The grass was so green against my new clothes,
And I did cartwheels in your honor, dancing on tiptoes
My own secret ceremonials before the service began,
In the graveyard, doing handstands.

Only if for a Night – Florence and the Machine

Ileana couldn't believe her luck. Most people would never get outside their own town, let alone their country, and here she was arriving in London after having flown through Europe. Dracula hadn't gone back on his word, and once he showed her the flight plans and given her further instructions about what to do when she arrived in Britain, she was given the freedom to leave at her discretion.

With a small bag packed, Ileana departed from Castle Frankenstein the following evening, and for some time she kept glancing over her shoulder to see if she was being followed. Although Dracula seemed to have faith in her, it was difficult to comprehend that he was sending her out into Europe without an escort. However, once she was securely in the territories of Austria-Hungary, it was fairly clear that he had no intention of sending a bride out to monitor her activities. This task was hers and hers alone, and for the first time in a very long time, she could do it by herself with full confidence from her lover.

He had warned her not to stop in any of the large historical cities along the way, and Ileana knew that he would time the duration of her trip. There were times when he had gone out into Europe over the course of their relationship, and she knew Dracula had exact knowledge about how long it took to fly to different nations. Naturally, he was a more powerful vampire, which meant he could fly faster, but she was sure he took that into account.

His route was as followers: up through the Hungarian portion of the Empire, followed by a brief dip into strictly Austrian territory, and then across through Germany, followed closely by northern France. From there, she would cross the Channel over the course of one night, and then find a ground transport at the docks to take her to London. Dracula, of course, provided her with the funds to accomplish the task, along with hotel fares where she would rest during the days.

She knew she wasn't allowed to make any stops that weren't for sleeping the day away, but it was incredibly difficult to ignore some of the larger cities. Occasionally, when she knew she was safe from the prying eyes of onlookers, Ileana would perch on a tall building of monument, careful to conceal herself in the shadows, simply to watch the busy downtown lives of the European elite. Stage coaches, electric lights, exquisite clothing, and couples laughing happily as they strolled the streets… It was enough to bring her into a jealous stupor. To think back to her home, that remote castle in an insignificant village… Well, it was awful.

She knew she would return, and she would crawl into Dracula's arms because she did love him, and because he would end her comfortable existence if she did anything otherwise. However, as she soared across Europe and lingered in cities that commanded her attention, she knew she was going to be miserable when she finally returned to Castle Frankenstein. Ileana wondered if she performed well enough on this task, Dracula might indulge her occasionally and take her to some of these wonderful places. Their trip to Budapest, although fraught with lies and secrecy, was actually quite nice, and she hoped that one day they could do it again simply for the sake of seeing a new city. Dracula must have seen all of Europe by now, but Ileana was young in her immortality, and there was still so much more for her to experience.

Paris was especially hard to leave. She arrived there in good time, exhausted yet alert to her surroundings. She hovered just out of sight above the city and used her keen eyesight to take in the beauty of the downtown core. Naturally, it wasn't all splendor and glorious kingdoms to behold; there was extreme poverty across Europe that rivaled even the loveliest of opera houses and exquisite gardens. She spied on hardworking men and women almost as much as she did on the noble class, and she wasn't particularly sure what to make of it. As a vampire, she knew she would have to distance herself from the human race slowly; good times and bad were bound to fall on them in cycles, and while things may have seemed bleak now, she was sure there was still a light in their future.

Their future… What a depressing thought. It was no longer her future; Ileana had a different future than the rest of the people scattered about below her. In fifty years, half of the people she had seen would be dead or dying from old age, and yet she would remain the same, locked in her own world with Dracula, his brides, and potentially their children.

No, she couldn't let herself sink into those thoughts. There was so much splendour out there, so much more for her to see, and as she flew the length of the English Channel in the dead of night, nothing but starlight to guide her, she knew that this trip would be the start of something meaningful. She could do this, and she could do more tasks like this; Dracula would see her worth one day, a worth that wasn't simply measured in her ability to draw and place anatomy.

She landed on the docks initially, changing herself back into a normal human once more. However, she couldn't wander around in the robes she was accustomed to back in Transylvania, and was quickly forced to change into English attire behind a small shed. It was a fashionable green dress Dracula had ordered for her as a surprise, and she thought it looked quite fetching off with its fitted bodice and sleeves. From there, she moved through the docks, which were currently filled with scattered young folk debarking from their ships. Ileana offered to pay a driver handsomely to bring her all the way to London; she paid half when he accepted, and promised him that double the amount. Dracula gave her as much as she needed for some travels and her fare at the inn, but so far she hadn't paid for any of her hostels, preferring rather to sneak out in the night.

Now, where her lover had come up with such copious amounts of English money remained a mystery, but she wasn't about to bother him about it. If he had the money for her to spend, she was certainly going to spend every ounce of it before she left. When else would she have this opportunity to spend his money without him physically present? Her driver was quite pleasant, with expensive looking horses and a clean outfit. When he asked where she would like to stay, Ileana had no qualms with asking for something modern and expensive.

"Well," he had started, scratching at the back of his head while she threw her small bag in the back of the carriage, "the Langham's where I take a lot of the wealthier folk… Can't get more expensive than that!"

"Excellent," she had cooed, smiling as she slipped into the rear of the carriage and shutting the door behind.

That was the extent of their discussion, and she spent the remainder of her trip admiring the countryside of a nation she hadn't seen since she was a very young girl. It took them nearly six hours to arrive in the capital of the British Empire, and Ileana tipped the man almost three times the promised rate once he had unloaded her belongings – all one bag. London itself was a mess of people, horses, dogs, cats, and carriages, and the smells spoke to her in a way that nothing else could. Having only fed sparingly on her journey, she was eager to get out and enjoy the underbelly of the city. Unfortunately, it was quite early in the morning when she finally made it to her designated hotel, and since the sun was still rising early in the late summer, it made more sense to sleep for the day.

The Langham was quite established, and Ileana felt very posh indeed when she strolled in with her fancy dress, her small luggage, and confident stride. There was a room available, and she paid for it immediately, sure to show off her large coin purse to the attendant so that he would ensure she was given the best services possible. With her key in hand, she smiled a dashing smile and turned back, searching the floor for the stairwell.

"Wait," the attendant called, a little groggy still. He had been asleep behind the desk when she initially strolled up. "Why don't you take the lift?"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, you're in for a real treat, Miss," the man insisted as he smoothed down the front of his upscale uniform. He gestured toward a small door at the side of the grand main lobby, and Ileana immediately picked up on the sound of machinery and gears moving. "The Langham is the first and only hotel in England to have a hydraulic lift."

She squinted at the door, curious as to what lay behind it, and then watched the man rip the doors open and ask her to step inside. Ileana wasn't concerned for her life, as it wasn't as though he or the machine could kill her, and she moved with a great sense of inquisitiveness that she had always possessed. Once in and at the back of the very small room, she pressed herself against the wall as the attendant stepped inside and shut the doors behind him. There was a very dim light on the ceiling that kept the room illuminated, and she watched with avid fascination as he began pumping a long shaft that stuck out from the wall. Suddenly, the room shook, and Ileana feigned a loss of balance by clutching at the wall.

"Nothing to worry about, Miss!" the attendant told her as the room buckled. Ileana immediately felt a shift in gravity, and her eyes widened when she realized they were moving up. This was… incredible.

Amazing! The world was filled with such advances, such wonder, and Ileana was stuck in some ancient castle with an ancient man, condemned to draw anatomy or brew potions for the rest of her days.

"This is… incredible," Ileana told him, laughing a little when he managed to get the room to stop. "You called this a… hydraulic lift?"

"Yes, yes indeed," the man replied, wiping a bit of sweat off his forehead when he finally stopped and set about pushing the doors open. She noticed he blinked a little too hard when he spoke. "First of its kind… Really popular. Your room is the last door on the left. There are two water closets for your convenience nearby, and a bathroom three doors down from your room."

"Amazing," Ileana breathed as she stepped forward, and quickly lifted her leg when he told her to mind her step. Yes, she had to haul herself up to get out, but she was sure someone would one day figure out how to get the lift to stop perfectly in line with the floors of the building. Genius – absolute genius.

The attendant smiled awkwardly as he struggled with getting the doors closed for a second time, and Ileana continued to watch until she could hear the lift arrive back at the ground floor. It would have been a little faster to take the staircase, as she was only two floors up, but it was still interesting, and she had probably made the man's night. Her smile was a permanent fixture as she marched down the dark corridor, and she paused only once to take stock of how many people were situated around her. Of all the rooms, she could detect about fifteen hearts beating, which meant the floor was full with multiple people in each room. It felt good to have this bit of anonymity; she wouldn't have to interact with them to feel like she was part of something bigger.

Tomorrow she would feed, she decided as she unlocked the door to her room and stepped in. She couldn't pluck anyone out from hotel, either staff or visitor, as she did not want to draw any unnecessary attention to herself. Besides, she was hungry enough to become a little careless, and even a simple human could trace a blood trail back to her if they looked hard enough. So, as she unpacked her few dresses in the wardrobe and changed into a night dress, she made plans to take a detour down some impoverish district before her meeting with Stark. It was there she would find her victim, her sustenance, and that was the blood Stark would draw in return for his little potion.

Before Ileana retired completely, her thick hair drawn up in a bun and a white night dress down to the floor, she made sure the very thick curtains were completely drawn. She locked the door and set a stool in front of it, and eyed the window warily for some time from her small bed. There were two layers of curtains, and she assumed it was for travelers who, like herself, arrived by ship or carriage in the dead of night after a long journey and really needed the sleep. However, she also recalled it rarely being sunny in England beyond the span of an hour or so, which meant she had nothing to fear. With that realization in mind, Ileana buried herself between the thin bedcover and shut her eyes; she didn't need to sleep, but it felt right to do so. It felt normal.

She forced herself to sleep the entire day, waking several times and groaning when she realized it wasn't time to rise yet. The vampire was eager to meet Stark, eager to engage an intellectual in a scientific discussion who wasn't some fraud in Romania. When it was finally an acceptable time to get up, Ileana sprang from beneath the sheets and twirled around the room. She still had roughly three hours to go before she was required to meet Stark at his London residence, but she figured it would give her time to feed and let it settle before she arrived.

So, she dressed in another frock typical of English fashion. Dracula seemed to have a knack for purchasing foreign garments whenever he left home, and somehow they always ended up as presents for Ileana. It wasn't that it bothered her, but she had a sinking suspicion that the other women in his life weren't treated to such gifts, and a part of her felt uncomfortable for taking that from them. However, the other part, that small girlish side to her that seldom surfaced, was excited to have a few pretty dresses to her name. This one required her to lace herself in to the bodice, but it was a brilliant blue that complimented her skin tone and had a wide skirt to enhance some sort of slenderness to her hips. If she could have seen her reflection in the dusty mirror hanging near the front door, she would have stood to admire herself. Apparently, hats were also in fashion, and after she managed to get her hair into some sort of basic updo, she situated the hat and pulled a small bit of lace over her face.

Now, it would have been impractical for her to want to dress like this all the time. The skirt was thick and cumbersome, the lace obscured her vision slightly, and the hat pinched at odd places. It wasn't a suitable garment for working in any kind of laboratory setting, which was why she knew that once she returned home to Transylvania, she would forgo fashion for comfort and practicality. Therefore, she ought to enjoy it while she could now.

Ileana wrenched the curtains back to gaze out at the busy streets below through her open window; she had thought it was busy when she arrived in the wee hours of the morning, but apparently London did not truly come to life until the late afternoon. As predicted, gray clouds hung across the city's landscape, though she could feel the heat of a morning sun radiating off the nearby buildings. Luckily she had slept soundly. As Ileana studied the city from her peak, she used her heightened sense of smell to detect the poverty line; that was where she needed to be. Ileana had to feed in a place where they wouldn't miss the ones she plucked out of obscurity.

London seemed to give her a sense of anonymity, one that she had never anticipated. A few people gave her looks when she walked by, but she assumed it was because of her splash of colour in the dreary setting. Otherwise, most rushed about their daily lives as though there was no one else in this world, and Ileana almost found it endearing. It was actually interesting to see people focused on themselves rather than on some overlord who held their lives in his hand. Was this the wave of the future? Would the common man step out into his own? Ileana was skeptical that this sort of determinism reached far beyond London, and the country folk were probably no different than the villagers who lived outside her castle. As much as this world changed with its hydraulic lifts and cures for the damages caused by a wolf's bite, so much of it would stay the same.

She faced far less hassle than she anticipated on the poorer streets of central London; her mind had concocted some grandiose image of men following her into an alley with dark intentions, and the righteous vampire would dismember them and remove them from society. However, after a full hour had passed, Ileana realized this was more of a fantasy than anything. Men drifted about, but only one had stopped to ask if she was lost, and she couldn't see any sort of foul intention behind his words. She surely stood out here, but it was just then that she spotted a trio of well-dressed women exiting an orphanage, and she realized she must have looked like some do-gooding socialite here to give charity.

Hmm. She could make that angle work, if necessary.

Eventually, Ileana found herself on a small street. It was narrow and the stones were uneven, but she decided that this was the poorest place she had found thus far. She knew there were most likely worse off places if she searched hard enough, but at this point the light was slowly fading, the clouds darkening, and she did not want to be late for Stark.

"Ma'am… You wouldn't happen to have a spare coin on you?"

Ileana paused, and then slowly turned to face the small female lurking in the doorway of a building. The stench coming off of her was horrendous, and Ileana did not need to look hard to spot the black under her fingernails, the circles under her eyes. She couldn't have been much older than Ileana, but there was a weathered look to her face, like the skin was too worn.

"Do you live here?" Ileana asked as she stalked toward the woman.

She gestured back to the building behind her, an eyebrow quirked, and the woman nodded. What a terrible shame. Ileana had never had much finery until Dracula walked into her life, but she had lived in considerable comfort all the same. No one ought to live here… No woman should suffer this sort of societal degradation while Ileana stayed easily in one of the city's best hotels.

The woman coughed noisily as Ileana approached, and she detected blood on her hands: sick and in poverty. It must have been a common sight in this city, and Ileana realized that she could provide this woman with the small mercy of death. There was no one around, no lurking faces in the curtained windows above, and Ileana could drain her quickly on her stoop. When she was finished, she could bring the body inside and make it look as though the sickness had finally taken her. It would be a small act of kindness, and it was bound to slack her bloodlust.

However, before she could say another word, the door opened just a crack behind the woman, and a small face poked out. If Ileana still needed to breathe, the air would have hitched in her throat; it was the splitting image of her Madalina. Small, blonde, innocent.

"Mama," the girl whispered, "can I have a sweet?"

"Not until dinner," the woman croaked, and the girl disappeared back inside, her face disappointed. Ileana blinked away her sadness hastily.

"Please-"

She allowed her coin purse to slide off her wrist at the woman's feet, and then turned away. If she needed more funds, she was sure Stark might have some spare coins somewhere for her to borrow. It had landed noisily, clearly full, and she turned back to see the woman staring at it as though it was infected with something.

"See a doctor," Ileana told her sharply, "and buy your girl better clothing."

The woman said nothing, but she quickly gathered up the coins and slipped inside, no doubt worried someone would see her with that vast amount of coinage on her person. Meanwhile, Ileana found a drifter and drained him to nothing four streets over, casually discarding of the carcass in a gutter.

Licking her fingers clean, her gloves tucked neatly under her arm, Ileana decided she could go to Stark's early at this point. She moved stealthily through side streets and alleys, stopping only once when a man pulled a gun on her. She had come round a corner sharply, and must have startled the tall fellow. Broad-shouldered, dark brown hair that waved down his neck, and a mask covering his mouth and nose, a brimmed had to cover his eyes. Any normal woman ought to have panicked, but Ileana simply stared at him, confused as to what his intentions were; did he plan to rob her?

"You walk softly," he told her. "These streets aren't safe, Miss."

"I'll be fine," Ileana said cautiously, nodding down to his pistol, "but perhaps you should lower your weapon and let me pass."

Because if he didn't, he wasn't going to be fine. He glanced down at the gun, and then lowered his arm, stepping to the side to let her through.

"There's something out here to tonight," he growled as she moved passed him. "Don't stay out long after dark."

"Monsters in the night?" she laughed airily, but he merely stared back in return. She dipped her head a little, gathered up her skirts like any normal woman would, and hurried along the corridor of houses. When she came to the end, she looked back, but he had vanished. That was a feat in itself, considering she had heightened senses, and she suddenly wondered if she had just met another sort of supernatural creature.

Once she found herself back on the main streets, surrounded by the noise of night life and horses, she realized she had left Stark's address in her coin purse. No matter; she had it memorized after a week of staring at that small sheet of parchment. North London. Second storey of a townhouse. Ask for Henry at the front door.

Unfortunately, London was much larger than she anticipated, and the northern portion of it was almost too overwhelming for her. She was supposed to arrive at Stark's residence at seven that evening, and didn't actually find it until sometime well after eight. It certainly wasn't a good way to start, and as she stared up the large staircase that led to a rather expensive looking townhouse, she hoped he would not judge her scientific merit based on her tardiness.

Ileana nearly flew up the steps, not caring who saw her move with her vampiric speed, but came to an abrupt halt when she saw an envelope tacked to the front door. It had her name on it, and she ripped it off, glancing over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching for some sort of reaction. There was some level of discomfort as she dragged a letter from within, tossing the envelope aside. Her eyes skimmed it quickly, and she arched an eyebrow. Apparently, Stark had decided to spend the night in his lab, and had invited her to join him in a place where he assumed they would both feel more comfortable. For some reason, she hesitated. Now, there was no need for her to worry, and yet she did. This was a man who had claimed to cure lycanthropy; if he could master one supernatural beast, what was to say he couldn't tackle her?

Unfortunately, the location of the lab was down by the shipping docks, which meant she had to trek back across town. He had provided her with extensive directions at the bottom of his handwritten letter, and while she could have easily followed them through London's dark streets, Ileana opted to use her new gifts to get there a little faster. She darted down the stairs and hurried into an alleyway across the street, and in moments she was in the air, speeding away from the posh neighbourhood and into the cloudy sky. She wrinkled her nose as a fresh dusting of rainwater trickled across her skin, and she was sure that her dress would be spoiled when she arrived at her desired location.

The docks were brimming with people of all kinds, and Ileana had to circle the area several times before she could locate a spot that would have given her adequate cover. Eventually, she found a dark corner between a lower and higher building in which she could change from vampire beast to human. Once she did so, she slipped down the steep tilt of the rusted roof and fell nimbly to her feet. Her dress, as predicted, was damp, but not as bad as she had anticipated. She took a moment to dust off the dirt from the roof, wring out the skirt, and then readjust her hat. She didn't need to impress Stark visually, but she still wanted to look presentable enough.

Now, the letter dictated that she was to find the only large building made entirely out of brick, not wood, and knock thrice at the steel door on the west side. Honestly, these directions… She rolled her eyes a little as she hurried through the swarms of smelly sailors and travelers, ignoring the few that tried to engage her in conversation. She was already incredibly late, and she didn't need any further hindrance.

The only brick building she could locate was at the far end of the docks, and she scanned the entire area twice to be certain. She eventually located the steel door, and knocked the required amount of times, thinking this all very absurd. However, if she had taken anything from Dracula's stories of the man, he was something of an absurd character anyway; she ought to be prepared for anything.

A small slit in the door opened at eyelevel, and Ileana flinched back.

"Password?"

She frowned at the American accent that filtered through the small slit, and then leaned forward in an attempt to see him, "Stark?"

"Password."

"Oh, honestly-"

"Password."

She sighed noisily and then retrieved his letter, scanning it several times until she found a word that wasn't specifically labeled as a password, but had no relation to the rest of the document.

"Philadelphia," Ileana said clearly, eyebrows shooting up as the slit slammed closed.

There was a bit of rustling about somewhere inside, and Ileana waited with her hands on her hips. Really, she didn't have any right to be uppity with anyone, but who else was going to pay this specific warehouse a visit at this time of night?

The steel door finally slid to the side, granting her just enough space to fit through. Once inside the warehouse, the attendant shut the door quickly, and Ileana turned back with the expectation of greeting Henry Stark. However, the nearby candlelight illuminated a coloured man, and for a moment she was at a loss for words. She hadn't actually… seen a coloured man before, and never in such an expensive looking suit.

"Frederick Wilson, ma'am," he greeted, tipping his cap a little and producing what she assumed he thought to be a friendly smile; however, it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Sorry about the password, but we have to be careful in this day and age."

"O-Of course," Ileana said quickly, nodding her head a few times. "You can call me Ileana, if you'd like."

"Mr. Stark is waiting down in the lab," Wilson continued.

He gestured toward an iron railing, and Ileana noted the stairwell that sunk down into the floor. She assumed this was a custom-built warehouse, or one that had been refurbished to Stark's specifications. It certainly didn't have the damp quality that she would have expected. Wilson took a seat on a small chair in front of the door, and she watched him light a pipe; clearly there was nothing left to say between them. She then turned and hurried down the staircase, her skirt tight in her hand as she descended down almost two levels beneath the Earth.

Ileana heard the lab long before she saw it, but when she finally stepped into a well-lit expansive room, her jaw actually fell open. There was more machinery in here than she had ever seen in her entire life. A quick sweep with her eyes found her recognizing maybe three or four pieces of equipment, and the rest were a total mystery to her. An excitement welled up within her, one greater than she had ever felt thus far, and she wanted nothing more than to dive headfirst into the fray and test every single piece of equipment in front of her.

However, she knew she had an assignment. She knew there was a purpose to her being here, and instead she contained herself, seeking out the man she was supposed to meet instead. Before she spotted Henry, she spied a woman hunched over several test tubes: focused, blonde, petite. Ileana stepped forward, forcing the heels of her shoe to echo a little more than necessary, and the woman quickly glanced up at the intrusion. However, instead of a panic, she smiled warmly, and then poked at something by her feet. Moments later, a man stood up with a mask covering his face, dressed in a white lab coat that would have made her uncle proud.

He pulled the mask off, tossing it on a nearby table, and then beamed, "Ileana! I'm so glad you finally made it… Sorry about the sudden change in address…"

"Oh, it isn't a problem," Ileana remarked, trying her best to remain cool and superior. She was, after all, the only immortal in this room. "I apologize for my tardiness."

"You're late?" Stark inquired. He ran a hand through his messy black hair as he glanced at a large clock nearby, and then shrugged, "Ah, so you are! I hadn't even noticed."

How did one notice anything with all these toys scattered around? Ileana clasped her hands together behind her back to keep from touching anything prematurely.

"This is my assistant, Claudine," he introduced, gesturing to the woman. Ileana smiled slightly, and the woman dipped her head. "She's French."

"Ah."

"Give us some time, would you?" he said to the blonde. They then exchanged a brief kiss, a peck, and the woman disappeared through a door somewhere near the far right corner of the lab. "Guessing you met Wilson too, huh? He's a real peach."

She could detect a very faint English accent, but it seemed quite watered down and battered by whatever sort of dialect they had in America. This was also the first time she had ever spoken to an American – as far as she could remember, anyway – and Ileana quickly decided they sounded like less educated Englishmen.

"Why don't you have a seat?" he asked as he produced a small stool. He placed it next to a table, and then patted it lightly, "We can get the formalities over with… Your husband told you what I wanted for payment?"

"He isn't my husband," Ileana remarked briskly, watching him as he darted around to several other tables. He was a bit of a mess; there were jars of substances, test tubes of various colours, and a variety of hand tools littered across almost every table without a semblance of order. "You require vampire blood."

"Intellectual curiosity," he told her. "Could you remove your glove and roll up your sleeve? Either arm is fine…"

She slipped off her left glove and placed it on the table, and then rolled up her tight sleeve as far as it would go. He seemed so keen, so eager to get started; she might have worn a mask of aloofness, but if she had a heart, it would have been beating just as fast as his was right now.

"Excellent," he muttered under his breath. As he wrapped a piece of rope tightly around her forearm, Ileana studied him quickly: tall, lean, face covered with short stubble. He was handsome, to be sure, and there was no wonder that his female assistant allowed him to kiss her. Perhaps their relationship was similar to that of hers and Dracula's, but hopefully without the heartache and death.

"Have you met many vampires?" she asked when he produced a long, thin piece of plastic tubing.

"Actually, you're the second," he replied as he pulled a smaller stool over with his foot. He then sat down in front of her, grabbed a scalpel, and cut a gash into her arm. His dark eyes flickered up as though to gauge her reaction, but she simply stared back down at him.

"It will take a lot more than that to hurt me," Ileana told him quietly, though she did wince a little at the sensation of the tubing being pushed into her arm. It wasn't that it really hurt, but it certainly didn't feel comfortable. She watched him place his thumb over the wound, and then insert the other end of the tube into a large plastic bowl. Was she meant to fill the entire thing?

Moments later, a steady stream of red liquid poured through the tube, and her ears strained to listen to it drip out into the bowl.

"I've got to say this up front," Stark said suddenly. "I was really excited to meet. I am still. It's… It's a real honour to be sitting with you."

She marveled at his open expression of enthusiasm, and shrugged, "Well, I'm sure when you meet more vampires, the novelty will fade."

"Oh," he said quickly, "no, no, no. I'm excited to meet you… Ileana Frankenstein. I've read your uncle's books extensively."

She blinked back her surprise; that wasn't what she had been expecting at all. Ileana licked her lips, "You read his books?"

"All three of them," he told her proudly, his eyes heady with excitement. "I mean, they were quick reads… nothing too weighty, but they were ground-breaking. His theories on vivisection, body reconstruction, the… the ability to bring something back to life once it has already died…. It was so refreshing. Claudine actually mailed them to me several years ago."

"Is she a scientist?" Ileana inquired, glancing over her shoulder as though she expected the woman to still be standing in the corner where she was last seen.

Stark nodded, adjusting himself into a slightly more comfortable position, "Works for the French government… I like to hire her out contractually. Technically she isn't a government employee, so they can't really put up a fuss when I steal her for a few weeks while I'm here."

"Why's that?"

"Well, women in government push papers and take dictation," Stark told her seriously. "People don't seem to understand that intelligence isn't dependant on a… well, a certain male appendage."

Ileana snorted despite her attempt to remain cool, which made Stark grin, "Their loss is my gain. One day she might get recognition for her work… For now, she gets to work with me. This isn't hurting you, is it?"

"Sorry?" Ileana said, mostly because she was still thinking about the fact that a man appreciated female scientists. She glanced down at her arm and then shook her head, "No, no, it's fine."

"Good," he told her, leaning closer to examine the tubing. "I'm interested in seeing if there're any noticeable differences in the blood types…"

She pursed her lips, and immediately felt terrible for squashing his excitement, but she suddenly felt as though she couldn't let him waste his time on this. They were too alike.

"It's not vampire blood," Ileana told him softly. He glanced up and she shook her head, "We don't really have blood… The blood we feed on is stored, and it depletes just as any other nutrition does. I don't… quite know why."

She expected him to yank the tube out and commence on some sort of rant about Dracula tricking him, but he did nothing of the sort. Instead, he looked down at the bowl at his feet, and then back to her.

"If it's all the same to you," he started, "I'd like to keep going… I'm sure I can find some differences. After all, if it's like our nutrition, you must digest it somehow."

Ileana blinked, and then slouched a little in her chair as she sunk into thought, "That… makes sense."

"Besides, if there're no changes, then my theory is proven incorrect," Stark continued, "but that's what science is all about… Sometimes we're right, and sometimes we're horribly wrong. That's where the fun is, don't you think?"

"Yes," Ileana breathed.

The utter joy she felt at finding a like soul, a kindred spirit, was so overwhelming that she thought she might weep. Instead, she let her features soften, and she smiled kindly at him when their eyes met once more.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

You all know by now how sorry I am for the length between updates for this story, but I'm sure you're also aware it's my favourite. I put about five of my unfinished stories on hiatus recently, and yet this one remains active – I adore it, and I've worked out the basics of three sequels. So. We'll be working on this sucker for a long time.

As I was writing this chapter, I had a pretty big worry that Ileana was turning into a Mary-Sue. I know she's not really, but I think it's all the perfections and abilities that vampires have that got me stuck in that train of thought. Hence the appearance of Claudine – Ileana isn't the only secret female scientist working out there, which was an exciting realization to both of us. If Ileana ever does start to drift into the Mary-Sue territory, please speak up. I think it's easy to do with female vampire characters, and I don't want it to happen to her.

Frederick Wilson is my fictional relative (not quite sure how far back) of Sam Wilson, who becomes the Falcon in the Marvel universe, and works alongside Captain America. Fun tidbit for people who are interested in my nerdy side.

I'm currently on vacation, and my plan was to update all my active stories once. This was fourth in line, and I've got one more to go. I liked the way this chapter felt, and Ileana and Stark make me happy in their dorky interactions, so I'm pumped to work on the next chapter.

Much love to all my readers, reviewers, adders to lists, and everything else. I really, really appreciate it!

PS: Longest chapter for this story thus far. Exciting!