Rita was exhausted. The strange nightmares she'd been having were taking their toll on her. She was becoming anxious in case Mrs Beauchamp saw fit to fire her for incompetence, but then if Mrs Beauchamp kept the inept Ben, she herself should have no problems.

"You okay?" asked Big Mac, the security man, kindly on his way out.

"Just tired, Mac."

"Aye, it's been a bit chaotic with the new mob moving in, but things'll settle down soon. Night, Rita."

As soon as Mac had left, she allowed herself the luxury of putting her head on her arms, just for five minutes.

She was in a Troika, cutting through the heavy snow, laughing over at a dark-haired woman. It was Connie Beauchamp.

Then the scene changed to that horrible incident where she was shot, the fear, the pain…

She awoke screaming.

"Hey, are you all right?"

The usually grumpy Dr Keogh was shaking her, gently but forcefully.

"I have to go home to my dog or she'll get fretful, but I heard your banshee act and wanted to check…"

"Dr Keogh. Please fetch me Connie Beauchamp. Then you can go to your dog."

Dylan ran off and arrived back with Connie.

"Off to Dervla!" he said hastily and was gone before anybody could query it.

"Who are you? And why am I having dreams about you?" Rita was sobbing.

Connie held her close, stroked her hair, and as Rita looked up at her with wet eyes, pulled her close and kissed her lips.

Then both women were sobbing in each other's arms.

"Stanzia… now I remember. But why-?"

"Forget questions for now, darling. We have work to do, unfortunately, but when this shift is done I'll take you home and explain everything to you."

She helped the shaking Rita to the rest room and tenderly bathed her face.

Meanwhile, in the Holby Novotel, Anton Meyer lounged on his king sized bed, and studied his notes. A nice little coven of them, living in a hospital with a convenient access to a blood bank.

He'd have every last one of them.

He telephoned the man who was probably the last vampire-hunting Van Helsing in Transylvania.

"Oh I will gladly come and join you, Anton. Shall we say at the end of next week? There are two things in this world I loathe… vampires and Hugh Jackman."

"Hugh Jackman?"

"Anton, did you SEE that bloody travesty of a film? Now everybody who meets me starts saying "Ooh you don't look like Hugh Jackman, do you?"

Anton, smirking, replaced the receiver.

Ethan asked for a meeting the next evening and told everybody that Anton Meyer was in the UK, possibly heading to Holby.

"Don't panic. It depends on what he thinks he knows and what he actually knows" replied Connie, somewhat cryptically.

"Well if your little blonde airhead finds out too much and spills the beans…"

"She's perfectly trustworthy, Ethan. She cares for me and would never do anything to cause my death."

Ethan got the implied message and snarled:

"Another abomination!"

Make that three, thought Ben, watching Dylan Keogh's backside moving delightfully as he strutted past the window.

"Oh just blow him a kiss, Benjie, why don't you?"

Ben looked shocked.

"You can TELL?" he asked, sincerely hoping he'd kept his feelings hidden.

"Three abominations in this place. Three!" screamed Ethan.

"Oh go and play with your Minions, Baby!" Ben smirked. Ben was very au fait with current media trends.

If the group had only known, it wasn't just Meyer and the non-Jackman fan that the Holby undead needed to worry about.

Robyn checked herself one more time in the mirror. She looked quite good and if things went well she'd get that gorgeous Caleb Knight's autograph too, maybe a kiss. She was pleasantly surprised to get the afternoon off although she had thrown in an extra shift the next day as a bargain.

Caleb was looking forward to the performance. He'd asked his grumpy little brother to smuggle in something to keep him going until he could next feed. Then, a quick gargle with mouthwash and who could tell?

Marsha Lindon, his co-star, wasn't feeling the same enthusiasm. It should be her name on the main board, not Caleb Knight's. She was as good as him any day! She'd take more rest but then that silly little Dawn Browne would have to go on and Marsha wasn't leaving any loopholes there.

Ugh, now that miserable little brother of Caleb's had arrived. She withdrew, nose in air, into the dressing room.

"Quick, hurry, I'm desparate!"

Ethan sighed.

"I couldn't get you any blood. Big Mac was doing a security check and wouldn't leave the blood bank unguarded."

"HELL, no! Ethan, I'll collapse before the end of the first act! I'll be bleating "Music of the Night!" HELP ME!"

"You'll just have to bite somebody, but not take it all, cover your tracks and erase their memory" said Ethan glibly as if committing near-murder happened every day for his brother.

"Look at this! Caleb Knight, Caleb Knight, Caleb Knight! Not a word about me and I'm playing Christine Daae! Damn reviewers!" screeched from a dressing room close by.

"I know just who", Cal grinned.

Ethan looked disgusted but resigned to the plan.