Back within Integra's office, she and Seras remained in awkward silence. The only sound heard was the constant scratching of pen on paper as the older woman proceeded to sign documents. Seras cast a shifting gaze from her superior to the floor for several minutes.

This was starting to drive her absolutely nuts.

"So," Seras finally spoke. "Aunt Integra?"

Integra paused, looking up at her over wire framed glasses. "Yes, Seras? What is your point?" she inquired. Seras held her arms out to her sides inquisitively. "Aunt Integra?" she repeated.

"That is correct, Police Girl," her superior answered. Sera's baffled expression hadn't faltered, and she sighed, "I've already established her family and mine are close. She can call me whatever she wishes. Don't be daft."

Seras frowned, "That may be... I've just never seen someone act so... offhand before. I have to say, Sir. With due respect, it's a little unnerving." Integra sat back, inhaling sharply. "She is far away from home," she reminded her, "it will take her time to adjust." Seras chewed at the inside of her cheek. It had still made no sense to her.

"I don't expect you to fully understand. Customs are far different for her than it is for us."

"I see," was all Seras could muster. Integra proceeded to work diligently. "She has never been away from her mother," she added.

"Really?" Seras says, rather shocked. She suddenly felt a wave of guilt, "Are they close?" Her superior nodded. "That's nice..." The older woman set her pen down, then rested her chin onto her knuckles. "From my recollection, you were the same way. With your own mother," she mentioned. Seras' lips curved up slowly. "Yes, we were," she replied.

"Then I'd hope you'd be more open to show a little more empathy."

Seras scratched at her cheek nervously, "Of course..." She leaned against the door frame, crossing her legs at the ankles. "So, what is her story?" she asked, angling her head to the side.

"The girl has been suffering from a major case of insomnia," Integra informed, "I'm sure you have noticed the signs. She has nightmares, that have become more and more consistent since she's gotten older. She is here so we can investigate further as to why this is."

"Like some kind of sleep experiment?" Seras pressed.

"If you would like to call it that."

She squinted, suspicious, "Why would that have anything to do with us, though?" Integra closed her eyes a moment. "Because she's been having dreams about monsters, Seras."

Silence.

"Her mother has done everything in her power to keep her daughter out of the lime light as far as vampire hunting goes. She never wanted her to have any part of it and merely raise her to have a happy and normal life. Unfortunately, this method has been disrupted by these visions. All solutions to wipe out any evidence has been rendered futile. Therapy, medications, etcetera. So I had offered her sanctuary while I dive further to examine if there is some deeper meaning."

Seras' face twisted in perplexity. "How are you going to go about that?" she asked, a little baffled. Integra offered a smirk. "I have my ways," she replied. "the easiest way is to bring her to a relaxed state and open up her mind. Perhaps what she will describe will give us clues."

"So... You plan to conduct a form of hypnotism?" Seras was skeptical.

"Correct," Integra answered, "such practice was performed over a century ago. The first to succeed in this method was Doctor Abraham Van Helsing."

"Oh?" Seras responded, now curious, "what did he use it for exactly?" Her superior seemed lost in thought for a moment before answering, "he applied this strategy on Wilhemina Harker to track down the very vampire that had terrorized her."

The room became eerily quiet again. Seras' jaw began to drop. "That could only mean...-" she stammered. Integra interrupted, "yes, Seras. I am talking about your own Master, just the same." She then raised an eyebrow, "I'm quite surprised he has mentioned very little to you. The only fledgling he has left." The girl frowned, "unfortunately not. Apparently there are things Master likes to keep private. And I rather not push the issue. He's been rather... Quiet these days."

"It cannot be helped," Integra exhaled slowly, shoulders relaxing. "It proceeds to haunt him," she said under her breath. Though, she was aware the vampiress could still hear her.

"These nightmares," Seras initiated, "you believe a vampire could be the cause of this?" Her chest grew tight. "Another like... Master?" The older woman shook her head, "that, we don't know. It is either that, or perhaps these dreams are some sort of premonition. That is why this procedure will be important." She finally stood, rolling her head back and forth to release a rhythm of popping sounds from her vertebrae.

"None of that will come to fruition, yet. In the meantime, we will just have to make Marion feel welcome. Proceeding these practices will only fraction her mind and eventually traumatize her further."

"I suppose," Seras said, biting into her cheek. Integra strolled up to the girl, holding her arm out. "Come, now, Police Girl," She mused, "It is almost time to eat. We must make preparations and then awaken our guest."


Meanwhile. After some time, Marion woke with a gasp, forehead beaded with sweat. She clutched at her chest with trembling fingers and looked around frantically with glazed eyes. The room continued to spin for a mere few seconds until her focus became more clear and relief came over her. The dim light of the lamp illuminated the cool colored walls, and nightfall had already arrived as the faint glow of the moon peeked through the panes of her arched window.

She sighed heavily and rubbed at her face, wiping away the tears that stained her cheeks. "Sononva bitch," she grumbled darkly, "not again..." Marion sniffled softly, then ripped the sheets off and groggily clamored out of bed. She dug into her bag until she found a green tinted module with a glass tank twisted into the top that was filled with a clear substance that had a fairly thick consistency. Marion lightly squeezed the button at the side, eyeing the amount of battery life that was left, the white light making her eyes water some.

"Good," she acknowledged. The young woman shuffled lazily to her window, opening it a crack and put the apparatus to her lips, pressing the button again and inhaling deeply. She held her breath a moment, allowing the nicotine to enter her blood stream before breathing out a thick vapor. The sweet smell of fruit candies was apparent.

Marion turned to the desk against the wall opposite of her bed, left from the door way and plopped herself onto the wooden chair that accompanied it, propping her bare legs onto the flat surface as she takes another drag. With one hand, she slides the elastic band from her braid and onto her wrist, combing her fingers through thick, dark hair as it fell in cascading waves.

She stared blankly at the forest green wallpaper, losing herself to her thoughts. All became still then, the silence was almost deafening. Her vision started to lose focus as if in a trance, however conscious enough that she felt an uncomfortable pit in her stomach. It was like there was another presence in the room other than her own. So imposing that it rendered her paralyzed and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Her fingers gripped the module a little tighter as she attempted to steady her breathing, heart beat pounding in her ears.

The room was spinning again, and a shadow had cast over the already faint lighting. Marion closed her eyes, trying to ignore the feeling of foreboding. Like a child tossing the overs over their head to avoid the boogeyman. A low rumble erupted from along the walls and floor boards, as if it was a sign that the house was alive. She could hear the whispering of her name in the air. And then she turned to look over her shoulder.

There was a knock at the door.

Seras opened the door a crack, the sudden action forcing Marion to jerk violently and nearly fall out of her seat.

"Miss Marion, Dinner is ready-"

The blonde poked her head through in alarm. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, "I am so sorry, Miss Marion! Are you alright?" Marion shifted her gaze to the other woman with a sigh. "Just Marion. And, yeah. I'm fine. I just lost my train of thought. Just woke up," she reassured her. Seras looked at her with forlorn. Marion waved her hand in dismissal, "Don't worry about it. Really. You said something about dinner?"

"Right! Uh. I was sent up here to notify you. Sir Integra requested for you to attend. Did you sleep well?"

She shrugged casually, "well enough. Tell her I'll be there. Just give me a few minutes to get dressed." Seras nodded rather timidly, then quietly shut the door.

Marion ruffled her hair with both hands, nails scratching at her scalp as she stretched the curvature of her back out. She grabbed a pair of black shorts and slipped it over her ample hips, allowing the cool air to hit her flesh. Gods, she hadn't anticipated the weather being so humid here. She briefly looked herself over in a full length mirror that stood freely in a corner closest to her bed. With a face, she smoothed her hands over her torso as she eyed her full figure.

"Whatever," she stated, "I'm not impressing anybody."

Marion ventured downstairs with bare feet, aimlessly searching as she made it to the bottom. Seras waited for her there, wrinkling her nose a little at her rather unusual attire. "Well. This way, then," she said, gesturing her hand towards a pathway toward the massive dining hall.

Integra sat patiently at the end of the elongated table, sipping at a cup of Earl Grey. She gazed at Marion, somewhat perplexed. Marion cleared her throat, averting her stare. "Uh," she managed, "sorry. I didn't have anything more appropriate to wear. I'm a little under dressed." Seras pulled a chair out for her in the corner closest to the older woman before flashing a smile and leaving.

"Nonsense," Integra answered, "you live in this house. You are free to dress as you wish." She coughed, then added, "well... within reason, of course."

The red head observed the meal laid out in front of them. A small, roasted bird with sauteed brussels seasoned with garlic and lemon, parmesan roasted on top, and finally pan seared potatoes, salted and peppered, garnished with rosemary. The scent made her mouth water.

"A rather simple meal. I hope you don't mind," Integra told her. Marion shook her head, offering a genuine and modest smile. "I like simplicity," she said, "this actually reminds me of home." The older woman nodded, "I'm glad to hear that."

The meal went by with little conversation. Marion politely pushed the plate away from her, leaving only the carcass of the bird behind. "So, uh," she started, "Where is... Uh, what was her name?"

"Seras?" Integra asked. She nodded. "She has already had her meal," the woman answered, "She won't be accompanying us anytime soon. Which is for the best, for what we must discuss."

"She's a vampire. Isn't she?" the question caught Integra almost off guard. She easily composed herself. "Yes," she told her, truthfully, "your intuition is sharp. Your mother has also told me that you've taken up courses on Cryptozoology and the Occult as well?"

Marion scoffed, "she was so adamant that I didn't. I guess you can call me curious. For the longest time she wouldn't confirm that any of your stories were true. As I got older I started asking so many questions on the subject, she eventually caved and told me everything. I can honestly say I wasn't surprised."

"How is she, by the way?"

She paused, "she's... Doing well. She seemed like she was on edge lately." Marion drummed her fingers onto the polished wood awkwardly, "I don't think she was too keen on me being here. But, of course, she would never admit that." Integra smiled, "I know that all too well. But, she has your best interest at heart."

Marion leaned back. "You still look exhausted," Integra pointed out, "the last time I had visited, she has also brought to my attention that you've been having nightmares again." The red head groaned, "she told you, huh?" She could feel her eye pierce through her very being. "Yeah. Well, they haven't gotten any better," Marion muttered.

"My guess is I've been so absorbed on vampire lore that it's finally gotten to my head. It's almost like a form of PTSD or something."

"And what made you so interested?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. There's something that draws me to it. Something nagging in the back of my head to dive deeper. Or, maybe it was the tales you would always share. I wanted to know more. It's like there's something calling out to me."

Integra furrowed her eyebrows in concern, "I.. See."

"But, I'm not a vampire hunter. So, I couldn't really know more than I do even if I wanted to. My mom has kept me in the dark for so long now I don't even know where to begin. Or, if I could even handle it," she said with disappointment laced in her tone. Marion sneered a little, "How sad is that? Twenty five years old and I still have mommy practically monitoring what I do."

"She has her reasons," Integra intervened. "Sure," Marion agreed, "it's not like she has me holding her hand at all times. For some reason, it's hard for her to let go on this particular subject. Hell, I don't even know if I would have even taken up on the idea if I were actually given the choice. I thought the nightmares were bad enough already."

The platinum blonde rubbed at her chin thoughtfully with the length of her index finger. "Perhaps," she mentioned, "we would only know if you were actually thrown into the situation." Marion squinted at her, suspicious. "What are you saying, Aunt Integra?" she asked. Integra reached into her pocket to retrieve one of the Cubans she's been saving after the meal. "I'm saying," she said, prepping the cigar between her lips and lighting the match, "when the time presents itself, perhaps I could have you tag along one of our missions. It could most likely cure you of your curiosity, I would only assume."

"Like a ride along?" Marion questioned. Integra nodded, "Precisely."

She took a long hit, then leaned forward into her elbows on the table. "Of course," she reserved, "things have been lackluster, as of late. With Prince Charles taking up the throne after his mother, he's ordered the British Military to take up arms whilst making a spectacle of things. My hunch is, he's doing it more for the funding to supply his troops. We're only left the scraps."

"Wow, what an asshole."

Integra chuckled, "very bold of you to say. I like that. And, I would have to agree." She surveyed Marion's expression. "So, what is your answer?" Marion looked at her with uncertainty, "I don't really know. Wouldn't that compromise what you are trying to achieve to bring some civilian to a monster hunt?"

"I've considered it. And I'm sure despite sheltering you, your mother has taught you some sort of survival skills."

Well, she was right about that. Marion chewed at her lip rings intently as she tried to think about this rationally, rather than impulse. Yet, something inside of her screamed. It took everything in her to cease herself from trembling at the idea. Whether it was fear or pure excitement, she didn't know. It was an odd feeling.

"I'll do it."