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This was not her bed, this was far nicer than her bed, was the first and second thought that ran through Agatha Van Helsing's brain. That she was alone, and fortunately still clothed, were the third and fourth.

Rolling on to her back, Agatha rubbed her palms against the sheets. They felt like the softest fabric, and the dark red colour, so dark they were almost black, meant the dye was just as expensive. So, someone who liked luxury, and had money, and who was she kidding, there was only one person whose bed this could be.

The only question that remained in Agatha's mind, was what the hell was she doing in it? Clothed, her sub conscious added, only for that thought to be mercilessly squashed.

Then the memories of helping Lucy began to resurface, everything after that was a blur. Like a dream she couldn't quite remember. Yet she felt safe and happy, and Agatha felt no need to rush from this decadently comfortable bed. No matter what had happened, or how she had ended up here, Agatha wasn't in any danger, of that she was certain.

Still she couldn't stay here. This wasn't her bed, and god knows how insufferable Dracula would be, if he came in and found her lazing about like this. What if he tried to join her? No, she was getting up now, definitely getting up now.

Pulling back the thick duvet, Agatha swung slightly shaking legs over the side of the bed. Her feet were bare, poking out of the bottom of her skinny jeans. The simple white T-shirt she was wearing, smelt less than fresh and was creased to high heaven. God knows how long she had been wearing it.

Still it was better this, than waking up in other clothes, and wondering who had put her into them. Or wondering if he had run his hands over her naked body, touched her breasts and fing…

Shaking that thought firmly away, Agatha could only wonder if she had suffered some sort of brain injury.

She was not the sort of woman, to lay around in a man's bed, fantasising about him taking advantage of her, she was most definitely not! That thought was stomped down on too, even if her brain seemed determined to protest, and supply one, or two images, of a rather ruggedly scruffy Dracula, with his mouth on her…

No not thinking about it…not thinking about it.

Definitely a brain injury.

Her feet held her weight, even if she did feel a little light headed. There were stairs in front of her, and two doors off to her right. Guessing one would be a bathroom, Agatha staggered in that direction. Relieved when her first guess was right, and the door opened onto an opulent bathroom. All marble and lacking any reflective surfaces.

Reaching the sink, Agatha switched on the water flow. Cupping the water to rinse out her mouth, which tasted like something had died it, before caving to the inevitable and borrowing Dracula's toothbrush. Then when her mouth almost felt normal again, she scrubbed the cold water over her skin. Relieved when that helped to wake her up properly.

It was then that she noticed the small pile of clothes folded up on the toilet seat, a pair of simple dark sweat pants, a lighter grey t-shirt and a matching zippy hoody. There was even a light grey lacy bra and brief set to match. So at least she would be coordinated, casual but elegantly so. A pair of towels had been laid out by the large walk in shower, along with some toiletries. Flipping the lid on the shower gel, Agatha breathed in the scent of jasmine and lilacs…lovely…and well a shower did seem like a good idea.

Stripping off her old clothes, she stepped into the shower, fumbling for the controls, and getting the settings right, after a little trial and error. Dracula had supplied her with shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, even body lotion, which was a definite step up, on the last time she had been his guest. The warm spray felt wonderful, and Agatha luxuriated in the natural rainfall setting; something far too fancy for her own far more modest apartment.

Agatha took her time, working the conditioner through her hair, and detangling the knots with her fingers the best she could. She was practically a prune, by the time she switched off the shower, but she felt more like herself. The towels were thick and fluffy, and Agatha amused herself by wondering if Dracula did his own laundry, or if he had it sent out; because either way, she needed to know what fabric softener was used on these towels.

Once her skin was patted dry, and her hair was wrapped in a towel turban, Agatha worked the lotion into her skin; paying particular attention to her elbows and knees, which were always too dry. It too smelt of jasmine and lilacs, and Agatha wondered if Dracula had brought it especially for her, or if he kept such things on hand for all of his 'overnight guests'. Pushing away the irritated feelings such thoughts engendered, Agatha dressed quickly, not surprised when everything was the right size.

"Stalker much…" Even the sweatpants were the right length.

A quick towel-dry of her hair, knowing that she couldn't put it off any longer, and feeling a familiar gnawing growing; Agatha re-entered the bedroom and made her way down the stairs. She had expected to find Dracula suited and booted, dominating the great room, with a ready insult on his lips. What she found was something quite different, and Agatha's stomach did a little flip, that had nothing to do with hunger.

His large bare feet propped up on the dining table was one thing, as was the unwaxed hair that fell a little onto his forehead. Even the sweatpants, and simple dark blue sweatshirt, were something Agatha could have dealt with; even Count Dracula had to have downtime clothes. The glasses and the rough beard however, which he rubbed as though still getting used to, whilst he studied one of a whole raft of papers…now that was sexy.

Blinking as that thought stubbornly stayed around, Agatha couldn't push that one away. Count Dracula was sexy as hell, he always had been, but looking like this, it was like someone had reached into her stomach and ripped out her ovaries.

"Feeling better?" Dracula asked, pretending to focus on his paperwork, even as he watched Agatha over the edge.

Clearly his little tableau had gone over even better than planned. Agatha looked like he had punched her in the stomach, and if she fidgeted with the edge of her hoody anymore she was liable to rip it.

"Yes, thank you." Agatha replied politely, her annoyance growing when Dracula didn't even look up from his papers once. Was he already sick of having her around? Just how long had she been here? Long enough for him to grow that beard.

"There is blood on the side there…I didn't know what you would fancy, so I had Mycroft send over something…he at least has reasonable taste." Dracula added, deliberately keeping his tone low and almost bored.

"Thank you." Agatha repeated, inwardly cursing herself and her tongue, which today seemed wooden for some reason. She shuffled over to the sideboard, lifting the stopper of each decanter and giving each blood sample a sniff, finally finding one that appealed to her, and pouring herself a large glass.

Moving to take a chair in Dracula's line of sight, Agatha sat down quietly, now unsure if she wanted his attention or not. This was unfamiliar territory. Agatha had never been in Count Dracula's presence and not had his complete attention before. It was almost like she missed it…

"Something interesting?" Agatha asked before sipping at her breakfast.

"Hmmm." Dracula feigned, as though he hadn't heard her question, before reluctantly dragging his gaze up from the page to glance at her. "No just some paperwork Mycroft sent over, to help me get up to speed." Dracula lifted the papers up to hide his grin…this was just too much fun.

"Is there anything I could help with?"

"Oh, I thought you wanted to hand that all over to Mycroft, and get back to your real job?" Dracula scoffed, no longer able to pretend he was reading.

"Yes…Yes I do. And well only because I thought Mycroft would be better suited" Agatha answered, and it was the truth, she had never wanted to be his liaison, but Dracula had wanted it; just when had he changed his mind? And was it because of something she had done?

"What happened, why I am even here?" Agatha asked, desperate to redirect the conversation away from a topic she felt too uncertain of, on to one she very much wanted to discuss.

"You don't remember?" Dracula asked, frowning a little, as Agatha continued to stare at him blankly. This was concerning.

"I remember talking to Lucy, of staying with her, and then nothing…I don't remember anything after that."

"Yes well, it seems our newest recruit has some impressive mental abilities of her own. Lucy was using you like a battery, syphoning off your energy somehow. I am sure the doctors will find it all fascinating." Dracula remarked with a casually indifferent shrug. "You however will need to keep your distance."

"Yes, that explains why I feel so drained, but how did I end up here?"

"Well you had to go somewhere."

"But why here?"

"Why not here?" Dracula countered, setting the papers down and moving to pour himself a glass, keeping his back to her to restrain the urge to laugh…and failing…she was just so easy to win up. And denying Agatha the answers, to sate her unending curiosity, was the most fun he had had in days.

"You brought me here, you looked after me...Why?" Agatha began, her eyes narrowing, as she saw Dracula's shoulders move in a way that was not conducive to drinking.

Getting to her feet, Agatha edged around the table, catching a flicker of Dracula's smile before he tried to suppress it.

"Are you mocking me?" Agatha demanded, the touch paper of her temper lit; her annoyance only growing, as Dracula turned and didn't even try to hide his mirth from her.

"You think this is funny." Agatha growled, stepping forward and launching her balled fist at his stomach.

"Ouch…Agatha be a good sport." Dracula insisted, catching her wrist after her punch rebounded from his stomach. For once the exercise he had forced on himself doing some good, as she only connected with toned muscle, and not the dad paunch he had been developing.

Dracula lifted up the edge of his sweatshirt to reveal his slightly toned abs, and the long line of dark hair that disappeared under the drawstring waist of his sweatpants. "You could have left a bruise." Dracula complained, his dark eyes dancing as he watched Agatha's eyes linger on his stomach, and then drop down to follow the line of hair down to his low-lying waistband.

She really did like him furry.

"I should make you kiss it better." Dracula growled, all whilst rubbing little circles on her captured wrist with his thumb.

"You…you are such a pervert."

"No. I really am not. I am just man who knows what he wants, and right now, you on your knees kissing things better, sounds like a brilliant idea." Dracula teased.

"Or would you prefer it, if I kissed things better?" He asked, raising her captured hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles; only releasing her hand when Agatha pulled it free. "Such a spoil sport."

"You are being weird today, even for you." Agatha retorted, returning to her chair and her unfinished glass of blood. "Is this all a joke to you, my being so weak, being dependant on you?"

"No Agatha, I am merely flirting with you, I do that all the time, only you don't notice. So, I've decided to step up my game, and make it so obvious even you can't ignore it." Dracula retorted, retaking his own seat, leaning back indolently, and running his fingers through his un-styled hair.

There was something so very liberating, about being so delightfully dishabille in Agatha's company. That she clearly had no idea how to deal with it, well that was merely the icing on the cake.

"Why on earth would you want to flirt with me?" Agatha asked, and her genuine disbelief, almost made Dracula regret his teasing…almost…

"Because my obtuse little Dutch girl, I like you. I've always liked you. I don't routinely kidnap nuns and take them on vacation with me; nor do I claim them for my wife in front of partial strangers."

"Yes, but that was before…" Agatha insisted, clutching onto strings, and the edge of the table.

It was like she had woken up on the other side of the looking glass. Nothing in this world made sense.

"Before?"

"Before you knew there were others like us. I mean now, you could have your pick of some of the most beautiful women in the world, and you honestly expect me to believe that you would pick me?"

"Not yet it would seem." Dracula replied softly, his head tilting to one side as he studied her. "You really do have low self-esteem if you cannot see what I see Agatha."

"I'm not young…"

"Neither am I!" Dracula retorted with a bark of laughter. "Why would I be interested in a child?"

"Youthful, I'm not youthful and I am not beautiful."

"Who says so?" Dracula countered, getting to his feet and stalking her slowly. "I think you are…"

Then when Agatha glared at him he added. "Fine in the classical sense, perhaps you are not a great beauty; I happen to think you are gorgeous."

"You clearly need stronger glasses."

"And you need to stop listening to those negative voices in your head. I like you Agatha Van Helsing, just as you are, and I would like it if we could spend time together, getting to know one another…romantically. There that should be blunt enough even for you, even it does rather sap the romance out of it."

"You…you…" Agatha spluttered as Dracula leant over her, his hand cupping her face, tilting her chin up.

"I am going to kiss you now, if you have very strong objections, I suggest you say so…" Dracula paused, waiting for the inevitable objection, but clearly Agatha was torn…her sub conscious was right, she clearly did want his kisses.

Leaning down he pressed their lips together, gently at first so as not to crowd her and make her panic. A slow brush of his lips against her, then a little more pressure as he captured her plump bottom lip between his own and tugged on it lightly. Dracula hadn't exactly expected Agatha to melt, but he had expected her to do something more than sit there rigidly.

Pulling away Dracula eyed her warily, uncertain if she was about to punch him again or run away. Yet Agatha did nether, she simply sat there, her eyes a little glazed over.

"I'm sorry…what just happened." Agatha finally found her voice, staring up into Dracula's amused dark gaze. "Did you just…"

"Kiss you? Yes, I did. And I'd like to repeat the experience if you wouldn't mind. As clearly my technique needs some work; since you didn't even recognise what was happening."

"oh…Ok…" Agatha muttered her answer, suddenly shy for some reason, as Dracula pulled her up out of her chair.

Without any shoes on, she was a good six inches shorter than him, and it felt a little like he was swooping down on her. This time his lips were pressed firmly against hers, before Agatha could process he was moving. It was her first proper kiss, and Agatha found herself swaying a little, as Dracula's tongue slipped inside her parted lips and began to flick against her own most distractedly.

Reaching for anything to hold on to, first his shoulder, then Agatha sank her fingers into that thick soft hair of his. Her touching him, seemingly giving him permission to do that same, and one of his strong hands was soon cradling her neck; as he tilted back her head to grant him deeper access to her mouth. His other was running down her spine, before slipping up under the edge of her hoody and t-shirt to settle on the bare skin of her lower back.

It was too much, and Agatha could feel the swoon rising up, from her unsteady feet to her spinning head. Even as she sagged like a dead weight in his arms, Agatha felt the mortification growing. She pressed her face into his chest, hiding her awkwardness.

"Better…I still haven't lost it entirely." Dracula quipped in her ear, savouring the press of her body against his own. "Though to avoid potential injury, might I suggest a relocation?"

"I am not falling into bed with you after one kiss." Agatha's voice was muffled by his sweatshirt, but it was resolute.

"Two kisses, and need I remind you, you have spent the last week in bed with me already." Dracula corrected, feeling her huff against his chest. "If not the bed, might I suggest the chaise. I feel I am still dreadfully out of practice."

Lifting her head, Agatha was surprised to find his gaze warm and gentle, and not in the least mocking. "Well I did say, I would do whatever I could, to help you reintegrate into our society."

"How very selfless of you Agatha Van Helsing." Dracula replied with a smile, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, before he led them over to the chaise. The initial awkwardness of how to arrange themselves, only overcome when Agatha seemed to make up her mind about something, and in a momentous act of bravery, pushed him down only to straddle him a moment later.

"That's my girl; I knew you couldn't resist me forever."

"Oh, shut up bragging and kiss me." Agatha demanded, leaning down and pressing her own lips against his; before he could come back with some smart-alec reply.

Deciding on this occasion losing the argument was a small price to play. Dracula threaded his hands into her long damp hair, tugging her mouth just where he wanted it to go. Resolving that in the future, he would be prepared to lose many more arguments to her, providing they always ended like this.

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