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When Agatha awoke, it was to the sound of waves crashing against rocks, the press of a strong arm around her waist as it held her firmly, and the sensation of warmth on her fingers. Blinking her eyes open, it took a moment to realise that the warmth on her cold flesh was from the sun, tickling her fingers as the newly rising sun edged up over the horizon.

Fascinated Agatha wiggled her fingers, watching the light and shadows play across the sandy floor of the cave they had taken shelter in. The sea, which had been far out when they had climbed the sheer rockface, was now fully in and Agatha could smell the scent of it as it crashed on the rocks below. Above them in the shadows, a colony of bats roosted quite happily. They had followed the colony during the night, following the coastline, occasionally dipping down from the easy path, to navigate paths that it would be impossible for a human to follow.

They had reached the cave a few hours before dawn. Agatha had wanted to push on, there was another town a few miles away and they could arrange for Renfield to pick them up, but Dracula had insisted they rest. He claimed it was, so they had the time to come up with a proper plan, but Agatha knew he was exhausted, and just didn't want to show it. The amount of blood he had ingested at the Foundation, was nothing compared to what she had taken from him; combine that with their very physical escape, and his lack of Transylvanian soil to recuperate in…and well Dracula wasn't a god, despite what his ego might assert.

So, Agatha let him keep up the pretence. She didn't argue for once, merely curled up around him when they reached the little cave; allowing his exhaustion to cloud her mind and lull them both to sleep. Now however she couldn't sleep, her mind too alight with the excitement of scientific discovery.

The sun warmed her, it didn't burn, even after several minutes there was no difference. Her skin didn't start to sizzle, nor did she turn to dust. It was like having something her subconscious had been pondering suddenly confirmed. Amusing herself Agatha drew the shape of a cross in the sandy floor, staring down at the symbol that had dominated her life for so long. It didn't make her suddenly recoil in horror now she was a vampire.

Like pieces of a puzzle her mind was assembling a new picture, and Agatha could only curse her own vanity. Jonathan Harker had seen it before her, and like an idiot Agatha had shushed him, so ready to speed ahead and jump to conclusions that she had dismissed his observations as nothing. He was right, the quick students really did miss so much, whilst the slower ones had to pay attention. Mr Harker had told her how Dracula's bride hadn't feared the cross, Agatha had herself seen how Jonathan could walk in sunlight and not burn. All the clues had been there, but she had missed them, and Agatha cursed her blindness.

The only thing that soothed her wounded ego, was that she wasn't alone in her mistakes. She had been a fool to blindly believe what she had read, to the exclusion of the real evidence…Dracula had been a fool because he manufactured all these limitations for himself. Perhaps out of habits that became so engrained over all those years; habits that were reinforced by the beliefs of his victims over all those centuries, that he came to believe them truths himself.

How easy would it be to lose the truth, if there was no one there to check you?

How much of his own past did Dracula really remember?

Did he even remember being human at all?

Agatha had so many questions, but they could wait, they had an eternity to resolve them. The scientist in Agatha was excited by the possibility, so many assumptions she had to challenge, a whole new existence to explore.

Wiggling out of Dracula's iron grip wasn't easy but Agatha was determined, and she left behind her lab coat for him to snuggle into. It was almost adorable, if one forgot the fact that he was a stone-cold killer for a moment, he was a giant bear of a man and yet he was almost childlike in his honesty about what he wanted. He had tracked Harker into another country because he didn't want to be alone, because he wanted someone just like him. If Agatha left now, if she ran, she didn't doubt for one second that Dracula would pursue her until he caught her.

Yet despite that possessive singlemindedness, he didn't push Agatha, beyond the limits of what she was prepared to give him. He would ask, he would plead, even bargain, but he would not force. It was such a strange dichotomy of views, for a man who would kill without a second thought yet valued free will so very highly.

Shaking off that puzzle for later as well, Agatha inched her way to the cave entrance. Careful to keep out of sight Agatha propped her head on her hand and stared out at the horizon. The sun was breaking free of the sea, sending ribbons of light dancing across the water; it was like the whole world was glowing. And even though she had spent the last 123 years dreaming, even for Agatha it felt like being reborn into the world.

"Agatha…" Dracula's voice was rough, sleep still clung to it, and Agatha turned to watch him.

At first, he blinked his eyes, blindly staring for her, then when they found her they sharpened in terror.

"Agatha what are you doing…get away from there…"

"I'm perfectly safe." Agatha retorted smugly, savouring this moment of superiority, as she knew with him there would be few enough of them.

"No, the sun…"

"Is perfectly lovely." Agatha countered, lifting up one of her arms, waving it boldly through one of the sun beams, sighing as she felt it warm her skin. "See I'm fine…no sign of burning or turning to dust."

"But…but…I don't understand." Dracula shook his head, as though he was still somehow dreaming, and he couldn't quite shake it off.

"Trust me." Agatha cajoled, beckoning him to join her. "Its a lovely sunrise, your first for quite a long time, it would be a shame to miss it."

"I can't, I will burn." Dracula insisted, his mind racing to try and understand how the sun burnt him but not her.

"Husband, trust me, you will not burn. It is 93 million miles away it is not going to hurt you." Agatha argued logically, shifting from her perch to pad back into the shadows with him.

Taking a reluctant Dracula's hand Agatha drew his fingers into the sun's light, holding them there even when Dracula hissed, and cursed, and tried to pull away.

"Ignore what you mind is telling you feel and look with your eyes!" Agatha snapped, as Dracula almost turned feral in his attempt to get away.

A minute passed, then two, and there was no sign of his hand disintegrating in front of him. Even the feeling of his skin burning faded, until there was only the foreign prickling sensation, and warmth…warmth in his flesh again.

Confused and hopeful, Dracula allowed Agatha to slowly draw him into the light, his step was hesitant, his eyes blinked rapidly as he was almost blinded, but he was there surrounded by sunlight. Agatha's form stood before him, a corona of sunlight surrounded her, casting her finer features into shadow and Dracula fell to his knees in simple worship of this fire goddess who was his bride.

"Thank you….Thank you…" Dracula pressed kisses to their linked hands, reeling her in closer, and relishing her happy laugh.

"Don't thank me just yet." Agatha teased, shifting to the side, and revealing the sight she had been blocking. "Tell me what you see, is she as fine as in your memories?"

It wasn't the fiery red drenched orb of his memories, but as Dracula crawled closer to the cave edge, watching the sunrise in all this simple glory, he realised that his own recollections could never compare to this. He could only sit and wonder, his cheeks wet with tears.

"It's beautiful…Agatha look…it's so beautiful."

And it was…he was…like a penitent sinner on his knees begging for absolution…there bathed in the sunlight he had thought forever denied him, crying at the sheer beauty of it all; Agatha came to a realisation of her own. There was nothing in this whole wide world that moved her the way this strange wicked creature did.

Perhaps that meant she was truly damned. Agatha no longer cared, she wanted him, wanted him always. Just to share this moment with him, was the closest to God she had ever felt, and she wanted more…wanted to touch…to draw him in, make him a part of her now…always…

Her clothes slide off easily, and Agatha stepped back into the sunlight as naked as a new-born babe. The sunlight warming flesh that had never before felt its bounty. Stepping forward she ran her hands softly through Dracula's thick hair, before kneeling behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, her naked breasts pressed against the plains of his back. Resting her head against his, Agatha pressed a kiss to Dracula's wet cheek, then another, lapping up the tears that still clung to his skin.

Coming back into his body, Dracula felt her touch and her kiss; leaning into them at first, before twisting his neck to meet her kiss with his own. Hungry…she was so hungry and what was soft and chaste quickly escalated, Agatha's fingernails gripping in his hair, the undulating press of her body against his…the press of her very soft naked body.

Growling it didn't take much to swing her around, his strength lifting her with ease, and settling his bride in his lap. With no need to breath there was no need to break their kiss, and Dracula revelled in letting her take control. Smiling against her lips, as Agatha's hands mapped his body. She seemed to have a particular fascination for his chest and shoulders, if the way she massaged them was any indication.

Her own skin felt so soft under his hands. He kept his touch soft and light at first, skimming the length of her back, the round firmness of her buttocks, those long long legs that Dracula knew he would explore one day, preferably every inch with the flat of his tongue. Up over the swell of her rib cage, the lack of fat here a symptom of her years of deprivation in the convent, and Dracula relished the opportunity to put a little meat on those bones. He would have to hunt successfully for them both, as he doubted Agatha would ever have the stomach to take down her own kills.

Her breast fit neatly inside his large palm, small, they fit her delicate colt like frame, and Dracula kneaded one with skill, as his other hand dropped back to her grope her backside. Lifting her up he pressed their bodies together, relishing Agatha's moan as she slid over him.

"Tell me to stop…if you want this stop it has to be now." Dracula whispered into her mouth, relieved beyond measure, when Agatha's response was to glare at him, and shove her hand down inside his ridiculous cotton scrubs.

A novice she may be, but Agatha knew what it meant when a man moaned like that, and smiling toothily she squeezed him again for good measure.

"Fuck…" Dracula grunted, thrusting up into her palm, his own hand sliding between her thighs, fingers probing, his smile growing as he found his wife more than wet enough for him.

"This might sting a little at first…or so I've heard." Dracula teased, unable to resist baiting his virgin bride one last time, his hand guiding hers as she placed him at her entrance.

"I am hardly a fragile flower." Agatha snarked back, her blue eyes blown fully red with arousal, and she took it upon herself to lower herself down onto him…slowly…slowly a millimetre at a time.

"Agatha…" It was a whine at the back of his throat, like a monster on a very thin leash. Dracula held himself still, allowing her this time to control, to adjust to the newness of it all.

"Just do it…let go…I'll be fine." Agatha whispered, her promise like a prayer, her voice rising in worship as Dracula surged up to meet her.

Their bodies quickly learned best how to worship the other, cresting and surging like the waves below them, coming together in a dance as old as time. Their union blessed by the warm dappled light of a new day.

-/-