Disclaimer: I own nothing. Incredibly thankful beyond words for the world that Toby Whithouse has created and for the character of Hal that Damien Molony has brought to life. All mistakes are my own.

I still don't know what I'm doing but still having fun with it.

Thanks again Saemay for proofing. At least I know one person is reading this! :)

Chapter 4: Dancing with the one I love

Two days later Hal is waiting in her parlor. He'd exchanged civilities with her parents, but thankfully they had left him alone after a short while. It no longer surprises him how predictable people are; centuries of manipulation has taught him how to read them with ease. They are overjoyed their daughter has attracted the attention of a well endowed bachelor and are willing to overlook any eccentricities in hopes of a match. He understands their motivations, and is careful to not reveal any intentions that might be misconstrued. He really doesn't know what his intentions are. He lives moment to moment, not thinking or planning beyond his routines, beyond the coping mechanisms that help him live amongst the humans, pretending to be one of them. Sylvie is a distraction, a disruption to his careful order, though not a wholly unwelcome one.

Sitting, waiting is making him feel anxious. 'The devil finds mischief for idle hands to do.' He stands, looking around the room for something to occupy as he tries not to think of the dreams he's had of her since the - incident. In his dreams she is no longer staring up at him as one of his victims; instead he is plagued by inappropriate images and by feelings he should not feel, cannot allow himself to feel. He approaches the piano forte and gives out a little sigh of delight as he sees the deplorable state of the stored sheet music. He begins arranging it by genre, then composer and year, shaking his head disapprovingly at discovering a remarkably large amount of Scottish and Irish folk songs. Tastes these days are so unrefined. He vows to introduce Sylvie to proper music. Despite his distraction, memories of that night keep encroaching in. Christ, the silken warmth of her skin, the sweetness of her soft lips, the giddy intoxication of her scent -"

At last he hears the light tread of her descent and quickly forms a tidy stack, placing the pages back in the storage box. He turns as she comes in, a vision in a light flowery dress, a basket of some sort in her hands.

"Miss Arundel," he gives her a formal bow.

"Mr. Yorke," she curtsies back with a smile.

Hal begins, "Once again I must ask your forgiveness for my transgressions. I was not feeling myself and I fear I was under some undue influence. Regardless, my actions were inexcusable."

"Inexcusable is not the word I would use Hal," Sylvie says with a smirk.

"I honestly do not understand what happened. I assure you I don't normally act so... outrageously. I had something to drink that seems to have impaired my better judgement,"

"Impaired is also not the word I would use Hal."

Hal huffs exasperatedly, "Sylvie I'm trying to apologize here."

"Why Hal? Because you touched me? Actually touched me without flinching? Because you let me kiss you? Or because you kissed me back? None of that needs apologizing for," she stares at him daring him to say more.

Hal stares at back at her with pursed lips.

Sylvie urges him outside. "Come, I've taken the liberty of arranging a picnic basket for us. Shall we picnic today by the pond? It is such a lovely warm day and the wildflowers are positively wild right now." He takes her basket and as they walk out down the path she continues, "Hal. After you left the party I spoke with Mr. and Mrs. De La Villa."

"Who?" Hal says perplexed.

"The werewolf Federico and his wife Gemma."

Hal stops, frowning. "Sylvie, he is dangerous. I suppose I owe you an explanation as to what a werewolf is so that you understand, but it is not prudent to associate with him."

"Tis fine Hal, I heard it all from the werewolf's mouth. Plus, I mostly associated with his wife, whom I found very delightful. I can tell she and I will be great friends."

"Friends? Sylvie, this isn't a game. That man... " He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Sylvie, what he said, it is all true. I did all those things to him, to his friends. He wants me dead, and I can't say I blame him for it. However, he might use you to get to me."

"I am fairly certain I convinced him to give you a chance Hal. He was none too happy about it at first, but I invited them to come visit with me at a time that you are also here so that you can become better -"

"You did what? That is madness. Vampires and werewolves do not mix. We don't get along, we've been fighting for centuries!"

"Well he's recently moved here so it's either become friends or one or both of you end up dead, which Gemma and I decided is not an option. We will have our way on this!"

"Sylvie, you really don't understand! How could you, you are so young, so naive, so human. The time you have lived is but a blink compared to what I've lived. The life you have lived is but a sigh compared to the life I've had. This werewolf and I are each cursed with something that is beyond any human emotion, something that is primal, visceral, biological. And we are trying to overcome it, trying to forget a past filled with horrors. Some of those horrors I inflicted on him, and while I'm truly sorry for it, there is nothing I can do to change it. This isn't some small slight easily forgiven."

"You are right Hal, I do not share the same perspective either of you have. But that does not mean I cannot understand it. I don't expect he will forgive you Hal and I didn't ask him to. I simply asked him to give you the same chance he wants at leading a normal life. He should empathize with that."

Hal is unconvinced, remembering with minute detail what happened that year he was in charge of the Spain contingent, what the werewolf experienced. But he doubts this wisp of a girl will listen to reason. She is so maddeningly opinionated. He looks around for a way to diplomatically change the subject. He is inspired by her terrier, who had been running next to her, bounding forward then coming back as they walked, but now sits at her feet waiting for them to continue. "Sylvie, why exactly is your terrier named after waterfowl?"

"Duckie?" She looks down fondly. "Ah, my brother named him Duck when we got him. On the first night father brought him to us as a pup he rolled round in mud and we were tasked with bathing him. He was as happy as can be; 'like a duck in water' Elliot said. And thus his name."

"I did not know you had a brother."

"Well, do you suppose you're the only one with secrets Hal? Besides, it's not like you asked." Sylvie looks off introspectively. "Elliot was my twin brother. He died when we were eleven."

"I'm sorry," Hal says genuinely.

Sylvie nods and starts their walking again down the dirt path toward the pond at the edge of her family's property. After a few minutes she begins again, her voice thick with emotion. "It's difficult to talk about him though I still think about him every day. It's difficult to explain what it's like to have a twin, your other half... and then to lose him. He was ill for several months and I refused to leave him." By now Sylvie's tears flow freely. "He was covered in bruises that had no explanation, he wouldn't eat, his eyes sunk in and his ribs started to show. He tried to be brave for mother and father but late at night when the two of us were alone and the nurse was dozing in her chair he would wake writhing in pain. I held him, rocking him and singing to him until he fell asleep again. Eventually even holding him was too much for him to bear and I lay at his side, just my fingers touching his. The night he died, I felt like the good part of my soul was ripped away. It took... a while... before I was a normal version of myself again."

She looks at Hal whose eyes are sad and moist, echoing her pain.

"Vampire, werewolf, human: we all experience suffering, it is unavoidable in life, something we can all empathize with. I found it easy to give in to the pain, to let it consume me. But with time and help from my grandmother I learned that it was worth fighting to move beyond it, that it was possible to find happiness again and to pursue the life I wanted." She wipes her tears and gives him a brave smile.

Hal acknowledges her smile with a small one of his own as they walk side by side.

When they reach their destination, Hal spreads a blanket for her under one of the Elm trees lining one side of the pond and they sit quietly, each lost in their own thoughts for a while having tea and biscuits. The day is warm, laden with the smell of the wildflowers dotting the landscape. The golden sun lending rich color to the landscape, the fluttering butterflies and the singing birds all fill Sylvie's heart with lightness and hope. Before long she leaps up excitedly, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Come now m'lord, lets dance you and I, shall we? You've always rebuffed me before but I think it's proper time we danced together." She tries to take his hands and pull him up but Hal quickly pulls away from her attempts. He rises gracefully.

"I don't dance." He says simply

"Surely you jest Hal." She says mirthfully. "You are a member of the landed gentry. It's in your job description, right along with making polite conversation, riding a horse, and playing at cards. You are quite the cunning conversationalist, you sit a horse as if you were born on one, and your card playing is precise. Though I suppose some shortcomings are only to be expected. Are you extremely bad at dancing and therefore do not wish to suffer the embarrassment? I will make a promise to not laugh, not too much at least." She grins playfully.

Hal gives a long suffering sigh. "I assure you, I have never been bad at anything in my life." One of her eyebrows lifts incredulously. "Dancing requires a level of... intimacy... that I do not feel is healthy, to either party."

"So, you don't want to touch me?" Sylvie teases with mock hurt and innocence.

"Sylvie we've been over this. How do I make you understand? It is as if my body is a cage, my whole being confined into minute movements. Exacting routines, measured moments, these are what I need to keep control, to keep sane, to resist the onslaught of temptation all around me. I cannot indulge in whims if I am to succeed in overcoming the beast inside of me. It is not a question of desire. Avoidance of as much contact as possible is merely one of the ways I manage my condition and maintain control."

Sylvie's voice rises heatedly. "That's downright bullocks! You managed quite well touching me two days ago. I'm not sure about the control bit, but I am still alive. You say you're frightened of reverting to someone that is selfish, incapable of friendship and love, that is hell bent on destruction and death, but I have seen nothing but politeness and kindness from you. You say you are scared of hurting me, but we have been seeing each other for quite some time now and you've yet to attack me and rip my throat out. The other night you weren't even in full control of your faculties and yet you let me talk you out of attacking someone you consider an enemy. You are a good man and you deserve more than locking yourself away."

"Sylvie, I am many things, but I am not a good man."

"The man I know is good. The man I know wouldn't hurt me. The man I know was gentle with me when we kissed -"

"Yes that was a terrible faux pas and I shouldn't have taken advantage of your innocence in that manner."

"As I recall I kissed you first, so you have nothing to worry about taking advantage. Did you think the kiss was terrible? Because as first kisses go, I'd say it was just about perfect."

Hal raises his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, did you say first?"

"Yes I did. Why such an incredulous look? I am a lady and you just said you were taking advantage of my innocence. Or do you think so lowly of me? I'm beginning to wonder what sort of women you've had as friends in the past Hal."

Hal sighs in frustration. How can she turn his words around in circles back to the subject he's trying to avoid. He decides to steer the conversation to less precarious topics. "Sylvie, it has occurred to me that you never told me what this 'decision' of yours was."

"Oh, yes, that." Sylvie turns away from him to hide her somewhat guilty smile. She'd almost forgotten the silly test she had devised for him. But it would work just as well, if not better now. Turning back with a straight face she says, "Hal, I've made the decision to become a nun, to join a convent. "

Hal chokes out a laugh. "A nun? You? But you would be wasted as a nun!"

"Oh, wasted? Well I seem to be wasted right now. I can't even get a man to simply dance with me. I shall die unmarried, unwanted. At least as a nun my life could have purpose. "

Hal winces at his hasty words. "What I meant to say is your... exuberance... would be wasted."

"Well I'm sure certain persons would be happy to see some of my "exuberance" tamed a bit."

"Sylvie, stop being impetuous. We both know you would be miserable in a convent."

"Well I am not exactly unmiserable now."

"Sylvie that isn't exactly a word."

Sylvie narrows her eyes getting closer to him, bringing them back to the argument she wants to make. "Hal, when you look at me, what do you think of? Is your first thought, 'look at those juicy veins'? While we are conversing are you ignoring my words, hearing only my heartbeat? When we sit to eat are you only thinking 'I wonder how her blood tastes'? Do you see me as food?! Or do you see me for myself, as a person, a friend?"

Hal admits, "Of course I don't just see you as -" He winces at her choice of words, though not long ago it is precisely how he would have viewed her, "- a comestible. I value the times we have spent together, your friendship. And that is exactly what I wish to preserve."

"Best not forget Hal that I'm human and unlike you, I won't preserve forever."

Hal huffs in his Hal-like way. "Still, it's best to maintain a distance. Any relationship with you can only end with your heart being broken or worse with your death. The allure of the blood is always there." He turns away to gather up the picnic, dismissing the subject.

Sylvie is tired of forever skirting the issue. Looking off towards the water, she decides to take matters into her own hands.

Hal busies himself with packing everything back into the basket, trying not to think too much about their conversation. He hadn't been entirely truthful with her. Remembering their kiss brought on thoughts beyond friendship. But every human he'd ever been with in that sense had been dead long before morning arrived. Hell, very few humans he'd encountered ever lived long at all. As he finishes the tidying, he glances up in time to see something that knocks all thought out of his mind.

Sylvie is sitting on the ground with her skirts up around her knees. She'd removed her shoes and one stocking and was just going for the garter to unclasp the other one when she heard his astonished voice.

"Sylvie, what on earth are you doing?" His voice cracks.

She looks up at him as she continues reaching under the light skirt and petticoat to pull down on the edge of her stocking, revealing part of her thighs. "I've decided that since you will not dance with me I shall go for a swim instead. I am eager to engage in some sort of rigorous exercise."

Hal's eyes widen as they wander up her shapely legs before he can rip his stare away. "Sylvie, this is highly improper."

"Oh I've swum here many a time." She says cheekily.

"You know perfectly well I mean your state of undress."

Sylvie stands and reaches back to undo her buttons. "Well I can't very well swim in all this. I'm liable to sink and I have some serious doubts if you would come rescue me considering your aversion to touching me when you are not inebriated. Besides, you've already said you think I'm too wanton for a convent. I may as well prove you right."

Hal turns back to retort but is caught off guard as he sees her bodice is loose and she's reaching to slide the shoulder of her dress off.

"Sylvie stop!"

She takes in his distressed, scandalized look and she supposes she should feel scandalized herself, but instead is gratified to see that he isn't looking away. "Well Hal, I shall make you a deal. I will consider turning back from the swim if you'll dance with me after all. Which will it be?"

Hal gives her a pained look before closing his eyes with a prolonged sigh. He could just leave, could disappear from her life altogether. Why is it so hard to decide on that path? Making up his mind with a nod, he opens his eyes and says through clenched teeth, "Will you please redress first?"

Smiling in triumph Sylvie says innocently, "Hal would you help me with the buttons? It is terribly difficult to undo them and near impossible to button them up."

She turns for him and with some trepidation he approaches her. He concentrates on his trembling fingers grasping each button individually rather than look at the thin fabric of her undergarments and the porcelain skin of her neck.

Sylvie can barely feel his fingers as they slowly hook the two halves of her dress back together, but the thought of it fills her with nervous excitement. When she no longer feels the gentle tugs she turns to share a questioning look with him. He awkwardly extends his hands and she grasps them gently, curbing her enthusiasm. She starts humming a tune and begins the steps of one of her favorite lively reels. They start slow though it is obvious Hal does know how to dance. They twirl in a circle, clap, come together, step apart, twirl around and continue in a simple variation of the complicated dance. When she adds some foot work which he matches lithely, Sylvie laughs in delight and is rewarded with a smirk. Elated, her humming is punctuated by giggles as they go through the steps faster and faster, twirling until she is breathless.

As he dances something in Hal thaws and he feels a barrier coming down. It feels good to let go of the tightness in his muscles, to shake free of the tension and enjoy the moment, something he doesn't permit himself often. Watching her enjoyment, listening to her musical laughter warms him, fills him with pleasure and hope. They twirl faster and faster until she can barely keep her tune and he can't help but smile at her abandon. When she finally loses her balance, knocking him down and collapsing on top of him, his first thought is to pull away, tensing for the proximity. But she continues to laugh, a feeling that reverberates through him, and he is gratified to feel he has control over the thirst. He can't help a laugh of his own. He feels her body against him, warm, inviting and he wants to give in.

Sylvie looks down at him, happy to see him laughing. She puts her hand on his face, marveling at actually touching him. She rubs her palm on his whiskery cheek, lets her finger trail across his lower lip, biting her own in restraint at pushing him too far. When she has her breath back she looks directly into his lovely eyes and says gently. "Let's be happy together Hal. Let me help you. Let me set you free of your cage."

He'd destroyed and killed everyone he had ever cared for, but this feels different. He feels a friendship, a love, unlike any he'd felt for any human or even vampire before. He doesn't want to leave her, he doesn't want to give up on the possibility of living a normal human life with her. Perhaps she is right. Perhaps this time, with her, he can finally win.

The scene of Hal and Sylvie dancing, and Hal admitting to himself that he's fallen in love with her, was inspired by Peter Gabriel's version of the song "My Body is a Cage". My absolute favorite fan made Hal video is set to it and if you haven't seen it you should. It's on YT titled: hal yorke | my body is a cage. The song is cut off at a certain point in that video, but if you listen to the end of the whole song - that's where my story title comes from.

Also, in my head canon, Wicked Game by Chris Isaac is Sylvie and Hal's song. ;)

I am trying to stick with period correct details in this story. Music and dancing were primary forms of entertainment during the Regency Period. Sheet music was expensive, often loaned out to be copied in notebooks, and one of the signs of wealth was your collection. Also, the popular music at this point in the story was largely folk songs and the dance was English or Scottish Country dancing, with lively, elaborate steps usually involving large groups that interweave together. The Waltz that many people associate with the period was introduced a little later.