Disclaimer: I don't own Van Helsing or Dracula, just April and the story. Nor do I own any books I mention in this.

"No… er… wait… Count!" April Leolius squeezed her eyes shut and fumed for a moment, frustrated at the cracking sound she had just heard.

"Oh… I apologize, Miss April. I shall take care of it."

"Thank…you… Count." She said between clenched teeth. It was only seven o'clock in the morning and while attempting to make breakfast, Count Dracula had only assisted in breaking three eggs, spilling all April's milk, and cutting her hand while trying to slice bread.

She turned around to face The Count, who was squatting on the wooden floor gingerly mopping up the raw egg with a cloth. "As much as I appreciate your assistance, Count, I think it would be better if I made breakfast and you… set the table-"

"Did I not set the table ten minutes ago after the second egg was broken?" He was incorrigible.

"Oh yes, how could I forget! Then, could you please… milk the cow? She's in the shed right behind the house. Just go down the stairs into the shop area and turn right. It's the second door against the wall. And bring a pail; they're near the table over there--"

"Miss April?" he asked slowly but in that smooth-sounding voice that made her shiver.

"Yes?" she asked, turning away from the countertop and wiping her hands on a cloth.

"It seems as though, if I am not mistaken, that my presence is a hindrance, rather than a help."

"Well, I will be honest with you." She walked up to him and took the eggy cloth, tossing it into the dish-basin. "You seem to be a bit clumsy in the kitchen. It is not that I don't enjoy your presence, Count. It is merely that I think your talents could be put to better use elsewhere." He smiled slightly and nodded as if in approval.

"Spoken well, Miss April. I shall return with your milk." He started to walk away, leaving April to smile at his back.

"Thank you." She called after him, but he had already gone down the creaking, wooden staircase to her bakery below. She turned and headed back to her cooking, though she wasn't concentrating on the eggs in front of her.

The night before had been sleepless. After her conversation and unexpected kiss with the Count, she had politely bid him goodnight and retired, though all the while knowing she would not sleep. It was his blasted kiss again, she'd thought. Though it had gone from her lips, it still burned in her mind and made her heart race and an uncomfortable speed. And it had been that way all through the night.

She'd tried to read one of her many books: Dante's Inferno, The Odyssey… even some ridiculous fairy tales about princesses, monsters, and dragons, but nothing had helped. Her mind would drift to the kiss, the conversation, the whole experience of awakening Count Dracula, and how he intended to save his soul. It seemed all too much for one person to ponder, but ponder it she did; she did until she gave herself a headache. And so she could not sleep. Nor could she stop wondering if the man staying only rooms away was having the same problem as she.

It seemed, though, that the Count had slept as soundly as death the night before. He had awoken at the crack of dawn, finally dressing in a long-sleeved white shirt and brown pants that she knew were hers from the way they only barely covered his knees and looked so tight that they must be cutting off circulation to something. It seemed that he had been going through her wardrobes and had finally found a somewhat suitable outfit. When he had finally come into her room to wake her, she had not only almost gagged herself trying not to laugh at his getup, but also noticed that he had unsuccessfully tried to tie up his long, shiny, black hair (which made her laugh harder). Fortunately, she fixed the mess of hair he had created on his own head with her best hairbrush and a short, black ribbon that you couldn't see because it blended in with his hair.

She laughed to herself while throwing the beaten eggs into a pan on the stove. Just the sight of his strange getup after a sleepless night of worrying had greatly cheered her. She recalled how messily he had tied up his hair. Half of it had been coming out of the band he'd used and it was extremely ratty with knots clearly visible. She couldn't seem to get his seemingly cool, dignified expression that he had worn with his ridiculous outfit out of her mind. Actually, she couldn't seem to get any of him out of her mind. She shook her head to try and chase the thoughts away.

Unfortunately though, as soon as she had resumed concentrating on her cooking and gotten his face out of her mind, he walked into the room, drenched in milk.

"Count, so you've milked--" she stopped short at the sight of him. He was completely drenched from the waist up in milk, yet he still managed to have a haughty look of utmost disgust and superciliousness upon his dripping face.

"I regret to inform you, that I was unsuccessful in milking that… beast." He spat, still serious and looking deadly.

April, however, had erupted into an uncontrollable fit of giggles at the very sight of him, and had completely forgotten that he had probably wasted all her milk again. The Count was not at all pleased.

"You find this amusing, do you?" he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. She didn't exactly respond; rather, she nodded while wiping tears of laughter furiously away. Finally she spoke, feeling the need under his disgusted expression.

"I must say, you are quite a sight."

"It seems that every time I enter the room, you consider me 'quite a sight.'" He said in a very childish-sounding voice, as though he were pouting.

"I'm truly sorry, Count. I don't mean to insult you. Truthfully, the sight of you greatly cheers me." He looked a bit taken aback by her comment.

"Er… how so?" he asked hesitantly.

"Well, I've just been thinking a lot lately about things that I've done and regret, and I've been getting myself worried over things I can't change…. You're presence is a comfort at the very least. It feels good to laugh because for that moment, I completely forget my troubles."

"Then I am glad I am able to make you laugh." He said matter-of-factly, which startled her slightly at the ease with which he said the words. "Now, Miss April-" she held up her hand to stop him.

"Please… call me April." She said, smiling. "No more formalities."

"Alright. Then please call me Vlad."

"Agreed."

"Agreed."

They stood in awkward silence for a moment until Vlad finally spoke casually.

"April, why don't you and I go to the market? I don't think we'll be getting any milk from your cow today." She laughed at the bitterness in his voice when he mentioned her cow.

"I also think that we should buy some new clothes for you." She said with a smile while walking toward him. "They're hardly fit for a gentleman like yourself." She looked him up and down but couldn't get past the tightness of the pants without a slight giggle.

"Very well. These trousers are somewhat uncomfortable. I just didn't want to say anything to you…"

"Then I suggest we go! I'll get you a long traveling cloak to wear." A smile played along her red-painted lips as she made her way to her wardrobe. She could just imagine the looks on the villagers' faces if they saw Vlad outside wearing such improper clothing. She looked at the long cloak and decided it was suitable for his height. No one would be able to see his somewhat indecent attire under it, she thought.

After fetching it, as well as her own, and favourite shorter cloak, April set off toward the town with Vlad. Though the snow had stopped hours before, the sky was still an ominous sort of gray with heavy-looking clouds looming overhead and the sun nowhere to be seen. The wind had a certain chill to it; burning their faces and making them huddle close together. The snow on the ground was so deep that April even tripped twice, only to be caught by Vlad's powerful arms. After her second fall they decided just to link arms to somewhat simplify the matter, which suited April just fine.

Actually, it suited April a bit more than she'd like to admit. Upon entering the town, being seen strolling with a noble-looking gentleman, she received many an envious or simply curious stare. April did not appear much in the town, coming only when she needed to shop for a new book or supplies for her bakery. Although she still lived under the alias, Prudence, she was regarded with much distrust; after all, the villagers were all convinced that her "cousin" had been a suicidal witch. It wasn't the distrust that irked her though; it was all the rumours that were constantly spread about her and her supposed "cousin." It seemed the only thing that could ever brighten up the town of Transylvania was gossip, and there was nothing she despised more.

However, this particular, gray day was not unlike every other day in the town. Everyone was simply going about their normal business, but was as thirsty for gossip as a vampire is for blood after a long day's sleep. Unbeknown to April, the news of her arrival with the mysterious stranger was spreading like wildfire throughout the village. In fact, by the time she reached the shop where she intended to buy Vlad some new clothes, the news had spread to none other than Anthony, the creepy gravedigger that had seemed to be stalking her before.

"I think these will do fine… Prudence." Vlad said, using her alias while motioning to a pair of black pants that were on display in the window. Upon entering, she discovered that they were the cheapest pair in the shop.

"Surely, Vlad, you would prefer something better than these. They are the cheapest slacks in here." She walked over to another, more fashionable and warmer-looking pair that were also on display. "How about these?" She pointed to them. "And look, they come with a matching vest, belt, and top hat!" Before he could make an adequate answer, however, she skipped gleefully to the shopkeeper and asked him to bring them down for Vlad to try on. Vlad rolled his eyes in slight annoyance, but let out a defeated sigh. He now knew just how his companion had acquired so many dresses; it seemed she had a weakness for shopping.

"In there, you say?" Anthony the gravedigger asked the man working the produce cart on the side of the busy street.

"Yes sir. I am quite sure I saw Miss Prudence enter there with a tall, black-haired gentleman.

"Did he have his hair tied back?" Anthony inquired, just to be sure. The minute he'd heard about "Prudence" entering town with a tall, dark, and handsome (as the women told him) man at her side, Anthony had rushed toward the town's square in a jealous rage. It was no secret to everyone in Transylvania that Anthony fancied "Prudence."

"I think they look very fine indeed, Vlad!" April said to Vlad as they walked out of the clothing shop, her pockets exceedingly lighter. April had not only bought him the pants, belt, and hat set, but at least three others with the same general style but in different colours, along with five cotton shirts to match, new boots, and even a sleek, black, wooden cane.

They now walked down the street, heads held high, looking very stylish (Vlad had decided to wear one outfit out of the shop) and attracting more stares than what they had initially received. Vlad lowered the top hat so that it was blocking his face from view.

"Apr-- Prudence," he whispered to April, with whom he had linked arms with once again. "Why does it seem that the whole town is watching us?"

"Because they probably are."

"Pardon me?"

"Just keep going, keep your head down, and pretend that you don't notice them. They won't bother us, they'll just eavesdrop if they can, watch our every move until we leave, and then gossip about us later."

"How enjoyable."

"Indeed." April whispered back sarcastically. She couldn't wait to sell her bakery and leave Transylvania once and for all. That was what she had been focusing on before Vlad had come into her life, before she had become determined to resurrect him, before she had fallen in love with him… It seemed like lifetimes ago to her all of a sudden.

"I take it you don't come to town on a regular basis?"

"I try to avoid it."

For a few moments they walked in silence, until they were clear of the crowded town square and on the road that led to April's house. Suddenly Vlad turned to April, a somewhat anxious expression on his face.

"Apr-" he stopped when she shook her head. She said not to use her real name until they were safe inside her house. "…Prudence, I've been thinking."

"Whatever about?"

"About my fate. Try as I might, I simply cannot forgive myself for all the horrid, evil things I have done. I swear to never do such things again, but it does not feel nearly enough. I feel like I need to prove myself… if not only to myself, that I am worthy of salvation." She stopped walking and turned to face him, her face grim.

"Vlad, these are heavy thoughts…"

"Truly." He said, looking down.

"Why can you not forgive yourself?" She took his hand in hers. Slowly he looked up, the sad depths of his black eyes drowning her.

"Could you?" He said slowly, in an extremely sorrowful, yet chilling voice that made April shiver more than the snow on the ground or the icy wind. "You have not seen the full extent of what I've done. I have murdered hundreds, maybe thousands! I have drained their blood and laughed over their lifeless bodies. I have borne an undead army full of hate and lust for innocent blood… how could you ever forgive anyone for such atrocities!" he shouted, tearing his shaking hands away from April's grasp.

"Please, Vlad… not here, we're not entirely clear of the village. There could still be people about." She reached out and touched his arm gently, a pleading look in her eyes. He took a deep breath and composed himself once more.

"I apologize. It has just been weighing so heavily upon my mind."

"I understand. We can, of course, talk about it later. But think about this, Vlad. You say you cannot forgive yourself and that you feel that you need to make up for your atrocities? Well you have the rest of your life. You do not need to dwell on it right now; after all, you're not even used to being human yet." Her voice had returned to a whisper as they resumed walking.

"Perhaps."

"I think that when we get to my house, I should make some hot tea. I am truly chilled to the bone!" she smiled warmly at him, obviously feeling a change of subject was needed.

"Oh? Well perhaps I can help with that." He said in his smooth, deep voiced-accent while putting a strong arm around April's waist, pulling her close. She knew that if she had been looking in a mirror at that very moment, her face would be a bright shade of scarlet.

"So, was this how you managed to get those three beautiful brides?" she asked, still a bit embarrassed, but comfortable nonetheless.

"What can I say? The charisma comes naturally."

Anthony the gravedigger stood, frozen, behind a tall evergreen tree. He had followed "Prudence" and her strange, dark companion all the way to the outskirts of the village. He fully intended to confront them, but he first wanted to watch them, to try and learn a little more about their relationship. Other than walking arm in arm, they displayed no behaviour that would signify that they were lovers. Anthony had still been suspicious though. The curious man with April had an odd look about him-- like he didn't exactly belong. His composure was that of a nobleman, but he looked as though he didn't exactly fit into his own skin. Whatever it was about this stranger, Anthony did not like it at all.

He especially did not like the stranger when he put his arm around "Prudence." He hadn't heard what they had been talking about, but it didn't seem to him like a conversation that was to end with them snuggling up to each other. However, blinded by jealousy, he didn't care in the least. All he cared about as he ran out from behind the evergreen was dislodging this man from "Prudence."

"So then, Vlad, I said to the customer who wanted to buy the wheat bread--- BLOODY HELL!" April screamed as she was physically torn from Vlad's arms. She was grabbed roughly around the waist and pulled to the ground.

"And who the hell do you think you are, sir!" Vlad boomed, pulling April swiftly up from the snow-covered ground into his arms.

"I am Anthony!" He did a melodramatic bow, taking off his top hat and then throwing it to the side. "Resident gravedigger of the town graveyard. May I ask who the hell you might be? A stranger, just showing up out of nowhere!"

"I am no stranger to this town--" he stopped, feeling April's elbow prod into his stomach. He suddenly remembered that he was supposedly dead.

"Oh? Do not try and lie yourself out of this! You seem quite a shifty fellow! There's something not right about you. I will not let Miss Prudence be taken advantage by some stranger!"

"Anthony, what is wrong with you? I am not being taken advantage of! I am simply not interested in you."

"Oh Prudence what has he done to you?" April rolled her eyes at Anthony's words.

"He has done nothing! I…I love him!" They all froze. April was astounded by her own words. Had she really said that? She felt her face burning. Vlad looked down at her; some sort of new recognition for her was dawning in his inky-black eyes. Why had she said that? Finally Anthony broke the silence.

"Mark my words! If you do not love me, Prudence, if I cannot have you, than no one else shall!" With that, Anthony turned and darted away down the road, looking about himself like a madman. It was not until he was out of sight that either Vlad or April decided to move.

Vlad released April, suddenly aware that he was still holding her close. April cleared her throat and looked at her boots.

"Well, we best be getting back." She said quickly.

"Indeed." Vlad said slowly. "Who exactly was that crazed man?"

"Just who he said he was: the town gravedigger. All the former gravediggers have either gone mad or met a nasty end. He seems to have taken the former."

"And he is love with you… because?"

"I do not know. When I was searching for a way to resurrect you, I went to him for information. He's known to know all sorts of queer things, you see. But anyway, he tried to ask me to go on a date with him, but I refused. Then I found him following me when I went to Valarious Manor. He is a strange man."

"Indeed." Vlad said again. "I do not think he is someone to be overlooked. You should take care to avoid him."

After that they walked in silence up to April's big, old house. April made them both hot tea, like she said she would, and they sat in front of the fire and talked until the sun began to set. It was not until the pot of tea was completely empty did their conversation with Anthony come up again.

"April, I have been meaning to ask you something. Do you love me? Or did you just say it to make Anthony leave…" April avoided his piercing gaze. Of course she loved him, but how could she just tell him? She didn't know if he felt the same way. Perhaps he fancied her, but loved?

She took a deep breath and set down her teacup. There was only one way to find out.

"Yes, Vlad. I love you. I didn't just say that to make Anthony go away. I would never say such a thing for so light a purpose."

"So that is the true reason you brought me back?"

"Yes."

"Because you loved me?"

"Yes."

"How could love a heartless vampire?"

"I do not know. It was not a shallow love, either. I felt connected to you. You saved my life, you were my 'knight in shining armour.' But it was almost an infatuation. Now, it is love. Now I know you as a person, and I can say it and mean it with all my heart. Now I truly love you."

Without a word, his teacup fell to the floor, and he swept her into his embrace. Her head against his breast, she could hear his steady heartbeat. Relaxing into his arms, she wrapped her arms around his middle. Suddenly, she felt a hot tear fall, stinging, onto her own cheek. Looking up in surprise, she saw a single, wet streak down his face, though his eyes were closed tightly.

"Vlad…" she whispered.

"April… I love you." She smiled, despite the tears coming from her own eyes.

To Be Continued