Part 2:

-/-

As usual it was raining.

Staring out of the tiny plane window, Count Dracula took in the familiar London landmarks. The sensation of flight still hadn't lost its novelty for him. Yet the tension in his stomach, had more to do with his destination, than any lingering nerves.

England.

In the last two years, Count Dracula had kept his visits to this island infrequent and brief. To anyone who dared to ask why he was 'home' so infrequently, Dracula would remark, why stay in one place when there was a whole world to explore. It was an explanation he almost believed himself. Besides it wasn't like he was a native of this land, his real home was slowly being restored, at eyewatering expense, after the destruction in the bombing campaigns of the last major war.

Still England was his clan's official base. It was here any of his turned kin were repatriated to, no matter where in the world he might have encountered them; and Dracula had no doubt there had been many. Despite some people's attempts to neuter him, Dracula had never really taken to the clinical feeding approach, and when certain incentives had been removed; well there was no longer any reason to give up something he so enjoyed.

Perhaps it was petty and part of him did wonder if she resented him for it...for them. All those pretty young things, Dracula had sent to swell their ranks; he had made certain to only pick the ripest fruits from around the world. His kin sent back here, for her to deal with. Another little cruelty of his, a little revenge, insisting on the reassignment of Agatha Van Helsing from the retrieval squad. Agatha might have scorned the idea of bearing his natural children, but Dracula could ensure she spent the last years of her conscripted service, teaching and mothering his turned kin.

Dracula might even look in on them, if the whim struck him. Not because he wanted to see her again after all this time, but to see her suffering; to see if the sentence he had handed down, in any way equalled the sentence she had imposed on him. For no matter where he ran, no matter the beauty he shared his bed with, or the fine meals he enjoyed; Agatha was still there in his dreams, haunting him by her very absence.

The plane touched down lightly on the runway, sidling quickly off to one of the smaller hangers for private aircraft. There was a black town car waiting on the tarmac, the driver exiting the vehicle the moment the aircraft came to stop. Opening one of the back doors for a familiar face…no not Frank…Mycroft, the adopted addition to his clan that had proved a wise investment.

Mycroft stood and opened a large black umbrella, walking over to the plane.

"Sir you are free to disembark." The pretty blonde stewardess, who had spent most of the trip over from Florence flirting with him, and then at his suggestion, spent an interesting half an hour over the channel on her knees, showing off her rather impressive oral abilities. She passed him his coat from the cupboard, before also slipping him a piece of paper.

"My number…just in case you were feeling lonely in town and fancied some company." She added with a bashful smile, that Dracula knew was probably well honed by now.

He doubted this was the first time, she had tried to hook a wealthy sugar daddy. Still she might be worth a bite later. If he hadn't still been stuffed from last night's party, he might have indulged in a little in-flight snack, and not just the entertainment. Still he was nothing if not a gentleman, and Dracula accepted the paper, with a roguish wink that caused her to colour for real this time.

Jogging off the plane, Dracula gratefully ducked under the umbrella that Mycroft extended to cover him.

"Good flight sir?"

"It had its compensations." Dracula answered with a glance back at the stewardess, who was still watching him; saucy minx might be worth calling after all.

"I have the papers you requested in the car, will you want to go straight to your apartment, or did you want to swing past headquarters?"

"Home Mycroft." Dracula commanded, as he settled into the car's leather interior, choosing to ignore Mycroft's resigned sigh, or the look the younger vampire shot him. Instead he buried his attention in the papers and the notes Mycroft supplied to accompany them.

In truth Mycroft could simply have sent the papers, the fact that he didn't, and was instead here in person, meant this was not all he wanted.

"What is it Mycroft, I can hear you frowning?"

"You know you are going to have to see her eventually."

Jaw clenching, as he resisted the urge to issue an immediate denial of that fact, Dracula chose not to respond at all. Hoping that Mycroft continued to show his usual good sense and drop the damn subject. He had made his position on everything, Agatha related, quite clear two years ago, as such Mycroft should know better, and yet the man was still pushing.

"She's one hundred and twenty-five now, and you know what that means. Do you really intend to ignore this and hope it goes away?"

"I am trying to ignore you and that doesn't seem to be working." Dracula countered, before adding. "I am sure you have a proposal…"

"That is rather then point of the whole exercise." Mycroft quipped, only for the furious look Dracula shot him, to rather take the humour out of his pun. "Ahhh yes, bad taste, my apologies."

"Yes…and thusly it renders the whole ritual a complete waste of time and money…my money." Dracula added, not that he needed to really. Mycroft was more than aware, of who would have to foot the bill for everything, it was tradition after all. "You and I know, she has no interest in anything but burrowing herself with her books for the rest of eternity, and Scholars cannot marry…"

"They have also never inducted a female member." Mycroft pointed out. "And without significant pressure from an Elder, with influence, are unlikely to do so. Thusly rendering the whole point mute. Agatha needs to be presented, whether she receives a proposal of marriage this year it doesn't matter, there will be twenty-four more years before it even becomes an issue."

"Yes, and that is twenty-five years of fancy dresses and jewellery I will have to pay for."

"Do you really think that likely, given who we are talking about here. She is going to hate this just as much, if not more than you are. This year she has no choice but to take part, after that, since she has no interest in accepting a proposal, then it will only be one event a year."

"Yes, at which I will need to escort her…"

"Only until you marry yourself, then your wife can act as chaperone." Mycroft pointed out quite logically, and reasonably, only Dracula wasn't in the mood for either. "Speaking on that subject how are negotiations going?"

"Slowly." Dracula huffed. Other than Agatha Van Helsing, thinking about his own forays into the marriage market, was the subject most likely to give him a headache.

"Elder Pazzi still playing hardball?"

"As is his right. She is his natural child and there has been significant interest. The other main suitor is younger and Italian…"

"But not an Elder."

"But a favoured son from a larger, more influential clan, and the girl prefers him. Oh, she doesn't say as much, but it is obvious."

"Elder Pazzi doesn't sound to me, like a man who will moved much by such sentiments."

"No, he, isn't." Dracula added and that was all he had to say on the subject.

It wasn't something he would discuss with Mycroft, but even if he had decided love was no longer to be a consideration, when selecting the future mother of his children. Dracula did at least expect to be her preferred choice. Perhaps it was pride, or perhaps it was just foresight to avoid being cuckolded, but as the years passed and his clan grew, Dracula would only grow as a prize in the marriage market. As such he didn't need to settle, for being anyone's second choice. He wouldn't expect his wife to love him, but he did expect her to recognise the great honour, he was paying her, by marrying her.

Dracula would never again go through the shame, of having his proposal rejected. The next time he offered his hand, he would be certain of it being accepted first. Marriage was a long business after all, and for a vampire, that was a very long time indeed.

-/-

Agatha knew the moment she was going to lose the match.

That feeling had come over her again, causing her concentration to slip, as such she raised her guard too late and Agatha had to suffer the sting of her opponents Shinai as the edge caught her poorly positioned arm. It had been closely fought until that point, two points each and they were close to the end of the match, close to it finishing a draw.

Resisting the urge to curse her own stupidity, Agatha instead buried her resentment, and went through motions of sonkyo, paying appropriate honour to her opponent before heading to take off the heavy armour. Her hands were shaking, as she stripped off the thick gloves and her grilled helmet. One of the many advantages of being a vampire, was the lower body temperature, as such she did not sweat away inside the heavy leather armour, like a mortal would. Her throat protection went next, sometimes an all to uncomfortable reminder of the wimple, she used to wear, and could never don again.

"I thought I might find you here sis." A familiar teasing voice, cut into Agatha's mental tirade. "Nice look by the way."

"Thanks." Agatha wasn't in the mood to bother with niceties. Stuffing her kit back into her bag, before glancing up at her uninvited guest.

Lucy was dressed like she was going out, hair and makeup immaculate, a very cute sundress that hugged her curves, causing everyone to look, and a mischievous smile that said she knew it. Agatha by comparison, looked like she was either emerging from a war, or a very intense workout. Her fitted T-shirt and leggings, outlined her slender figure, and the musculature she had worked hard to attain. They could not have looked more like polar opposites.

"How did you slip out again?"

"Ahhh I can't be telling you all my secrets." Lucy's grin grew, as she grasped Agatha's elbow, and threaded their arms together; waiting for Agatha to grab her bag, before dragging her over to the door.

The pair of them heading out to the street, and along the pavement. It was rush hour traffic and so a cab was pointless, they could walk there just as quickly; and catching buses, or the tube, was a bad idea when it came to vampires. Lucy wasn't yet cleared for going out by herself, her instructors not convinced she had attained the sufficient control, when presented with even the faintest whiff of blood. Not that Lucy seemed to care, not about her instructors' opinions, nor the risk to the public from her rule breaking.

"Why not, I thought we were sisters and sisters tell each other everything." Agatha prompted.

"Because you're the goody two shoes sister, and you will ruin all my fun."

"When Captain Anderson finds out, you slipped out again, I am not going to cover for you Lucy. You are supposed to be in your classes."

"Of course you will. Besides with you in that outfit, I won't need to think up an excuse. Anderson will go all goo-goo eyes, forget to breathe, forget his own name, and certainly forget to ask me why I am with you."

Rolling her eyes at Lucy's theatrics, Agatha had to accept she was probably right. Her former deputy's crush on her, was somewhat of a joke among their newest kin. Agatha did her best to ignore it, mainly out of some attempt to preserve the poor man's dignity. It was bad enough that an injury, picked up in bad encounter, whilst on a raid whilst with Agatha's replacement, had pushed him out of the retrieval squad rotation; and although promoted, onto the far more menial guarding roster.

The other girls were not so kind, and Agatha observed something, akin to a pack mentality evolving amongst them; with Lucy as the obvious ring-leader, who seemed to enjoy taunting any male in the near vicinity. When none of them had been able to "appeal" to Captain Anderson and butter him up for special favours, it had almost become a sort of competition. Until they had realised the reason why, was his unrequited crush on their 'big sister'. They had never let him, or Agatha, forget it since.

"Plus." Lucy added with a smirk. "I'm not the only one skipping class, am I Agatha? Isn't this the time you are meant to be in your princess lessons?"

"I am going to kill, whoever let you all re-watch The Princess Diaries." Agatha muttered under her breath, but not low enough to pass by a vampire, and if it was possible Lucy's grin seemed to grow. "And they are not princess lessons…"

"Of course they are, you are being taught to dance, and sit, and speak like a lady." Lucy sniggered, and Agatha knew that all of the modern girls thought this whole thing was hilarious. If it wasn't her being forced to endure it, all for some archaic social ritual, that Agatha cared not a jot for, then she would probably find it just as amusing.

"I am already a lady." Agatha tutted. "I am just not what people would call a fashionable one."

"Sure you are, look at you, the height of fashion."

"Did you want anything specific, other than using me as a means of getting back into headquarters, without getting into trouble?" That was so obvious, Agatha knew Lucy wouldn't bother to deny it.

She was a strange girl. So much she really didn't seem to give a damn about, and Agatha knew it was driving her teachers to distraction. The trouble was, so many of the novice instructors, had been born and grown up in another world entirely, to the newborn vampires; it was like they were an alien species. Normally a new-born vampire would conform eventually, the isolation, and need to feel connected to this new world was a powerful motivator.

Things had only been different over the last two years. Where before, they would be lucky to recover two, maybe three, viable initiates a year. In the last two years, there had been twenty. All girls. All aged in their twenties. All beautiful, and all turned by the same vampire. Dracula was certainly having a good laugh at her expense, it was almost mocking. First forcing her to be put in overall charge of their clan's novices, but not given her a formal education role, that Agatha could achieved something with. All whilst refusing to allow her, to hold any other job, so she was stuck being Clan Dracula's House Mother, as one of the girls had labelled her. Secondly sending her wave after wave, of these perfect female specimens, as if to mock the very real inadequacies, Agatha had foolishly revealed to him…back then.

"Isn't it enough to just want to see my big sis? You never have any time for me anymore, first all the others turning up, and now all your extra lessons. I miss you, ok?" Lucy pouted, causing Agatha's suspicions to double.

"Not with you it isn't."

"Harsh!"

"But True!" Agatha countered, unable to resist smiling though. Lucy was not someone anyone could stay mad at for long. "Just tell me you weren't off meeting that boy again."

"If by that boy, you mean Dr Seward, yes I was."

"Lucy!"

"What he already knew about vampires, it's not like I told him, and he's not been involved with the Harker Foundation, since your little niece popped her clogs..."

"That is not the point."

"Then what is? Cause no one can seem to give me a decent reason why not. Plus, I needed a good shag, the pickings back at headquarters are decidedly urghhh Mycrofty."

"You had best hope our brother does not catch you still using that. You remember the lecture he gave you last time?"

"Urghh yes, the bloody windbag; and he is not our brother, not properly." Lucy added the last part bitterly, that probably had more to do with Mycroft's highhandedness, rather than any genuine prejudice to adoption; or at least Agatha hoped so.

With Dracula absent, and Mycroft on the cusp of attaining adulthood. Agatha often caught him trying to impose his will on their clan, as though he were the acting Elder. He rarely tried it with her, other than his arranging of her debutant lessons, without so much as a consultation with her. Yet Agatha had seen him try, and more worryingly, fail with the younger members of their clan. They were headstrong, and opinionated, and female; three things Mycroft had little personal experience of dealing with on mass.

He also lacked the blood connection, and Agatha couldn't help but wonder, what was taking Dracula so damn long? He had agreed to adopt Mycroft into the clan, the younger man was doing much of the heavy political lifting already; all so Dracula, could swan off around the world, turning which ever young bit off fluff caught his eye. Not that she was bitter…ok she was bitter…and hurt…and regretful…and relieved…and so many conflicting feelings, when she thought about the Count.

"Hey sis, are you ok?" Lucy may have been a little self-obsessed, but she wasn't stupid, and with the skin to skin connection it was impossible to ignore, the sudden whirlwind of emotions that had unsettled Agatha.

"I'm fine."

"Sis, you're the one, who told me never to lie to an empath."

Stopping suddenly, so they could duck out of the flow of busy commuters, Agatha pulled them into a little alley way. Her carefully constructed mask cracking slightly, as she forced herself to confront, and admit, what the nagging feeling in her gut was telling her. The feeling, that was only getting stronger, and had been for the last hour or so.

"It's Dracula." Agatha admitted, even saying his name aloud, caused her heart to clench in her chest.

Frowning Lucy studied her carefully, her annoyance with their Elder clear. "What has that jerk done now?"

Sighing, Agatha wondered if it would help, to admit it out loud to someone else, or if it might make it worse? Yet there was no denying the truth, that this wasn't the first time she had felt this, and each time had corresponded, with a brief visit, she had only heard about later.

"He's here, or he will be very soon. I can feel it. Count Dracula is back in London, and I'm afraid this time, he might be back to stay."

And worst of all, Agatha couldn't lie, even to herself. That as much as the idea of Dracula being back worried her, she craved to see him, to hear his voice, to touch him, even if briefly. It had taken losing him entirely, to force Agatha to accept the truth; she loved Count Dracula. Even knowing what a rotten bastard he was, even knowing she had been right to reject his awful proposal; she still loved him. And it broke her heart, knowing he was out there in the world, not feeling the same way about her. Yet out in the world was one thing, here on her doorstep was something very different. It was inevitable now; Agatha would see Count Dracula again, and soon, and certainly before she was ready to.

-/-