In this one: Agatha is staying with Detective Stefan and is trying not to think of, well, other stimulating things.

It was late and raining when Agatha arrived at the inn, after many days of taking train rides (she had the schedules memorized by now). It was a small, dark building near Whitby.

Agatha opened the door to the entrance of the lobby but to her horror realized she could not physically go inside.

"Hello," said the innkeeper, now eyeing her strangely from the counter since the nun appeared to simply be standing at the door, refusing to come in.

"What are you doing out there? It's raining," he said. He saw that she looked to be struggling, eyeing the wooden floors before her.

"Hi, yes-can you invite me inside?"

"Well, the inn is open to everyone of course!"

"I—," Agatha was annoyed beyond belief. She couldn't step inside, needed him to directly tell her to do so.

"Would you please verbally invite me inside, as precisely as you could?"

"What's stopping you?"

She was shocked and annoyed at hearing the same words she had told Count Dracula once, though this was a much different situation.

"Oh for Christ's sake," she said under her breath, the pouring rain raining down on her. "I need you to verbally invite me inside, sir."

"Why?" he said, still standing by the counter.

"It is necessary. A rule we nuns abide by."

"A nun rule? How odd…"

Was he seriously this stubborn? For crying out loud, Agatha didn't know why it was so difficult to get the words out of him.

"Well that's quite strange. Why exactly do you need…"

He was cut off by a familiar voice, as Stefan made his way down the stairs.

"Sister Agatha. Why are you out in the rain? Come in," he said, seemingly surprised she was there.

That was easy.

"Thank goodness," she said, stepping inside. "Stefan, it's good to see you."

"It's good to see you as well, but what are you doing here?" he said as he took off his coat and placed it over her.

"I had to leave the convent. Due to the…issue that was encountered."

"Is everyone ok?"

"For now, yes."

"Well, don't worry, Agatha. We'll keep eachother safe."

"Danger? You're a nun," said the innkeeper, eavesdropping.

"Yes…" she said, brushing off the statement. "Do you have any room available? As isolated as possible."

"I'm afraid not," he said. "We just sold our last rooms. Your friend has the corner room here, it is isolated and one of our largest. If you really need a place to stay…"

"Agatha, of course you'll stay with me," Stefan said, looking back at the innkeeper. "It'll allow me to help you with your…dreaming problem."

"What dreaming problem?" asked the innkeeper.

"I get a lot of nightmares," stated Agatha.

"So, any letters for me?" said Stefan interjecting.

"None today."

"Thank you."

Once they unlocked the door to his room, which was more of a suite really, Agatha took out one of her Bibles from her luggage and started quickly removing the pages, surrounding the room with them.

"What are you doing?"

"Protecting. If he—if anything comes to me, it's staying in this room. And we must be ready to kill it."

"Agatha, if I could please say something I hope you wont take the wrong way—"

"What is it?" she said, still focused on her task.

"You might be acting a little…paranoid."

"Paranoid? No, Stefan, not paranoid. I am being cautious."

"I know you are taking precaution, but you seem overwrought. Maybe you should get some sleep."

"Actually, I plan to refrain from it as much as possible."

And she did. For many days she tried to refrain from sleep, and successfully so—for she now realized she needed much less of it than Stefan or any normal human would. Sleep seemed to her more of a luxury than a necessity. She wondered how much sleep Dracula really needed at all.

Agatha did her best to not to think of him. She felt that tugging in her mind nagging at her to be led to the Count. It was there, intense and insistent as ever. The want, need almost, to be lured in whether in dreams or outside of them. To see him, drink in his presence. A dangerous thing.

Days passed, maybe even weeks—And she could almost sense him reaching out to her, to torment her, no doubt. But fortunately, she was able to block him out more easily now and focus her attention other matter. His blood improved her in this matter. And to think that prior to it she even struggled with her surroundings. But some nights were tougher than others…

And today, although she was determined not to, she found it extremely difficult not to think of the vampire.

Agatha was sitting on the bed (fortunately there were two in the room, along with a sofa bed) reading a page from one of the books she had brought, trying to distract herself from her mad thoughts. The door unlocked, and Stefan walked inside with some things.

"I'm back some food for me, and well, drinks for you…" he said casually. He meant blood, of course. When did this become so casual, she wasn't sure. It was still absurd to her, even now, the drinking of blood she needed.

Blood was of course a necessity, but it not as enticing as it originally was. Maybe this was the Count's preference for live blood rubbing off on her. The thought scared her, but fortunately, she noted that she didn't often feel hungry. She sometimes even woke up feeling like she had just been fed, when she hadn't had any blood at all

"Oh, and I brought you something. It isn't even sold here in Europe yet," he laughed. "A friend in town managed to get me one. It will help you stay awake."

"What is it?" she said, looking up at him, as he set his bags down on a table.

He took out a small can of soda and opened it. The crisp sound of the can opening was a bit loud to her ears, and she smelled the strange odor immediately.

Stefan handed her the beverage and she started drinking it quickly. She scrunched up her nose. It was far too carbonated for her, but if it would keep her awake, she would drink it.

"It's very strong," she said. "Thank you."

"Of course," he said, "You know, you never told me what happened the night you left the convent."

"It isn't important. But I can assure you, the silver works," she smiled.

He raised his eyebrows and went to sit next to her.

"So it did, did it?"

"Yes."

"Well, you don't have to say anything more of it if you don't want to. You seem a bit overwrought again today…Are you hungry?…"

"No. Some days it is just more difficult than others to deal with the state of my, well, vampirism," she stated, raising her eyebrows.

"The bloodlust?"

"No—"

"The Count, you mean," he said, understanding her struggle. He had seen it before so many times.

She nodded, sipping some more of the soda before placing the can on the nightstand.

"I think I am doing rather well though, I'm proud to say," she smiled again.

"Good. Now, why don't I help you relax?"

She looked at him curiously, and he placed a hand on her cheek. He took the opportunity—Agatha noted the Detective was much bolder than most of the men she had met before-and kissed her on the lips softly.

"Wait," she said, pulling back a bit.

"What is it?"

"I came here as your friend. Nun or otherwise. If I can even call myself that anymore."

He chuckled.

"I understand…I'm alright with a friendship. But—"

"But what?" she said.

Agatha wasn't entirely opposed to the idea of kissing Stefan—she had experienced it before, been curious…but she did not want to lead him into thinking she was serious about something like this, when her mind was obviously not prepared for it, and she doubted his was. They were both far too obsessed with vampires, it seemed. Revenge. Haunted by the past. She understood him. But to her he was a friend, not a lover.

"It doesn't have to be personal," he said, his face still close to hers, giving her a moment to think over it.

"It just meant to unwind, relieve stress…We will only do what you wish, of course," he continued.

Again, his boldness. The fact that he would say that to her, friend or not, it was very forthright—especially to a nun. And he was kind, handsome. She had dreamed about him before.

She decided to lean in and kiss him now. It was not something she had done in a long time before she met him so she was slow, experimental.

As their kiss deepened he pulled her close by the waist and Agatha pushed him back on the mattress—as lightly as she could. But as she was still not used to the effect of her new strength, she had been too forceful and Stefan looked momentarily stunned.

"I'm sorry," she said, unable to contain a small chuckle from escaping her.

"It's alright," he smiled, as he pulled her close, Agatha lingering over him as she kissed him again. His hands ran over her sides.

This little exploration with the Detective would no doubt be added to her list of sins. And she had many. Agatha knew she had much to account for, and she still was haunted by her own guilt. Her guilt over having been to detrimental to her convent—twice—because of a certain vampire.

As she kissed Stefan her body felt the heat, the curiosity of continuing, and her logical thoughts became illogical. Taking her out of the moment. Agatha couldn't help thinking about the effects of Dracula's blood. She wondered what else could be achieved with it—and if it should even be studied at all. Why had the silver hurt him when no other blade could? Why was he intent on torturing her—on feeding from her Sisters?

And there was that of their bond. He hadn't been lying about that. There was something there, something that was both an advantage, and a disadvantage to her.

But to be thinking of the Count now…was foolish. Dangerous. She pulled back for a moment, looking at the Detective. Strong fingers ran over her legs as she kissed Stefan. He was intent on touching her more and more, but she barely registered the moment, her mind seemingly racing with mad thoughts all over again. Was this what it was like for the Count as well? Did he grow to think this quickly, maybe all at once, and learn to take hold of his own thoughts? She could only think of Dracula, especially when Stefan moved down to kiss her on her neck. She could almost feel—or rather see—the vampire she was so close to now somewhere in the confines of her mind. Stefan's hands and mouth on her now reminding her of the vampire, making her wonder what it would feel like to kiss him, to be so very close in every way.

"Oh no," she said, under her breath. This was ridiculous.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," she nodded, kissing him again as he held her.

There was the pain of negligence, physical pain even, of denying this connection she had formed with the vampire, when she could almost sense him. And now was the most inopportune to me to be thinking about such things. She was not about to let Dracula in, to give him a glimpse of her, to give in to this bond again.

Stefan continued to kiss her eagerly, and his lips began to move lower to her chest. Somehow now she was thinking even more illogically, her thoughts beginning to quickly separate themselves from the present moment. More thoughts of her enemy, stimulating her current actions. It was disturbing. She wasn't going to do this—and Stefan didn't deserve this at all.

"Ok. No, that's enough," she said mostly to herself, though she harshly pushed Stefan back on the mattress again and quickly realized it. "I apologize—I didn't mean to be so rough," she said.

"Agatha," he laughed. "It's alright. Are you ok?"

"No, nothing wrong with you. It's just me. My mind is not at its most logical at the moment."

"I just need to stop," she said as she moved off him, and sat up again on the bed. It was so abrupt that Stefan was confused.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Is it someone else?" He sat up and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Someone else? NO, I'm a nun, as you know" she said as she stood up, though she certainly hadn't been acting like one.

"I know, it was only…I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't. I just...I don't feel like myself," she said, taking the can of soda again and drinking more. "You've been nothing but good to me," she said.

She really was thankful she had come to know him here in England.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Coffee would be nice, actually," she smiled.

"…Along with the soda?" he said, a bit surprised.

"I'll have both. I want to ensure I don't sleep tonight," she stated.

"I understand," he smiled softly, squeezing her shoulder. "I'll bring you some fresh coffee from downstairs."

Agatha didn't sleep that day, or the day after.