A/N Yeah, I know. I surprised myself, too.

Chapter Twenty One

When her words were met with a resounding silence, Agatha slowly unclasped her hands and placed them flat on the bed she was kneeling beside, using them to propel herself upright once more. In all her years of prayer she had never received an explicit response from above so there was no reason to take this most recent lack of feedback as disapproval but the silence was disappointing. It was, perhaps, prideful of her to believe that her calling to the church, coupled with her obsession with everything dark and evil, had been God's plan for her all along but she had succeeded where many others before her had failed: she had brought an end to Count Dracula's reign of terror. However, she was also sure that her methods of attaining that goal had been severely frowned upon and that marrying the best of the vampires would do little to absolve her sins. And it would most certainly not redeem Count Dracula in any way, shape or form.

Marriage was something that she'd never coveted, not as a young woman taking her vows or as a much older one embarking upon a sexual relationship for the first time. She'd assumed that Dracula, with his tendency to simply lay claim to others and a strong aversion towards the church, had no desire to marry either so his proposal had come as somewhat of a surprise. Pressing him on his motivations had confirmed her immediate suspicions that Dracula wanted to make her his but he had tempered that with the assertion that he was hers if she wanted him - and she did want him. She might never think of herself as his possession but she knew, deep in her heart and soul, that she could never belong to anyone else but Dracula. And he had given up so much to be with her that marrying him seemed the least she could do in return.

With one last glance in the mirror, satisfied with her appearance though perhaps not with her growing vanity, Agatha exited the bedroom and headed out into the apartment in search of her soon to be husband. The large windows, and top floor setting, offered fantastic views of a Budapest that was both oddly familiar and strangely new to her but today her eyes focussed completely on Dracula, stomach fluttering at the sight of the handsome, charming, well dressed beast she was about to marry. The sun, hanging low but exuberantly in the winter sky as if offering its approval, highlighted every glorious inch of him - even the smirk on his face that suggested he'd overheard every word of her prayer.

Dracula's smirk deepened when Agatha came to a sudden stop, folding her arms across her torso and mild annoyance sparkling in her eyes. He made no attempt to conceal his eavesdropping, "Is your God going to strike me down for stealing you away from him?"

"Perhaps," Agatha conceded, a thin line settling on her mouth though she did not think such an outcome was likely. Whilst she had not forsaken God, despite her circumstances, Dracula had his own cross to bear in that respect. However, he had agreed to marry in a church and they had found a quiet little place where the priest, with very little mental manipulation from Dracula, had agreed to officiate. If there was to be any kind of vengeance against either of them she felt almost certain that it would have already occurred.

Loosening her arms, she maintained her position at the opposite side of the room to Dracula. He was still grinning shamelessly at her, exuding confidence and amusement; she would find it exasperating if she didn't still find it all so exciting. "There's still time to change your mind if you're afraid; we can continue living in sin," she suggested, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"I'm willing to take the risk," he replied, grin remaining on his lips.

"Me too."

"Good," he murmured, taking a couple of steps forward and grinning once more when her arms fell away from her middle. When she was within arms reach the Count came to a stop and let his eyes roam down the length of Agatha's body and then slowly back up again before he finally spoke. "That means I'll be able to tell the whole world that you are my clever, beautiful, amazing wife," he proclaimed, his gaze resting on her eyes with as much warmth as his words had contained.

Such compliments were a regular occurrence yet Agatha still felt her cheeks redden slightly in response, unaccustomed as she was to being the centre of someone else's world. Not content to simply place her on a pedestal, Dracula also seemed determined to make her believe she belonged there; in his eyes, there was little she could not achieve. Of course, he had applied that belief to mastering the skills of the vampire, convinced that she could equal his own talents in that respect. However, she had turned down his offer to teach her how to transform into a wolf so that they could travel some of the way to Hungary as he himself had done all those years ago; the memory of him emerging from the body of a wolf was not a pleasant one - even if she had enjoyed squaring up with a delightfully dirty and naked Dracula afterwards.

Taking a half step towards him, Agatha smiled warmly at the monster who had torn her world to pieces but was now helping her stitch it back together with the greatest of care and love. Raising one hand, she placed her palm against his chest, her fingers silently exploring the different textures of his new suit and shirt; it'd been a risk letting him wander the city alone but he had not disappointed with either his behaviour or choice of attire. "Only if you survive the ceremony," she grinned at him, tapping her fingers against his chest before withdrawing her hand.

Dracula grinned in response but ignored both her warning and the removal of her hand, continuing on as if she had not interrupted his speech at all, "And that you love me very, very much."

The move from summarising her one-sided conversation with God to quoting it back to her almost verbatim didn't annoy her as much as it perhaps should but that did not mean she could not tease him in return. "Do I?"

"Yes," he answered quickly. "Why else would you agree to marry me?"

"Perhaps I agreed to marry you because the alternative was allowing you to roam this Earth unattended for centuries to come; the ensuing carnage would be immeasurable. Marrying you is purely a selfless act on my part."

Unperturbed once again by her words, Dracula only smiled fondly at her, "That's my Agatha: always trying to save everyone."

"Indeed," she agreed, holding back a smirk of her own. After turning down his lesson on transformation she had begun to reconsider how best to utilise her vampiric skills; saving the souls of the undead was rewarding but it was small scale and somewhat risky, even during the wee hours of the morning. Now that she was practically immortal, had freedoms that had been previously denied to her simply because she was a woman, and lived in an age of scientific advancement there was so much more that she could achieve. So much more that Dracula could help her achieve because he had promised to do all that she asked. There was a discussion to be had about that subject - and how to deal with the still threatening Jonathan Harker Foundation - but now was not the time for that.

Giving into the urge to touch him she moved one hand back to Dracula's chest, smoothing out imaginary creases in his shirt with her fingers. Despite his certainty about her feelings for him he had wasted no time once she had agreed to marry him. A suggestion that he was worried she might change her mind had, surprisingly, been met with agreement though she believed his concern in that respect had been warranted; she had always vehemently protested against any form of marriage to him. And endearments - and declarations of love - had not flowed from her lips quite as easily or often as they had from his. "My love for you is simply a happy coincidence," she said softly, her hand resting above his heart.

Smiling widely at her confession, Dracula moved closer towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist. An attempt to kiss his bride to be was thwarted when Agatha's hand pressed quickly and firmly against his chest.

"Not until we're married," she warned with a teasing smile.

"It's a bit late to be worrying about your chastity, Agatha," Dracula persisted, sliding his hands down to her backside in an attempt to draw her body closer to his own.

Agatha grinned at his persistence but held firm. Physically he had all of the power but it had become increasingly obvious to her just how much he was willing to concede that power to her; he would cajole her, try to entice her, but never force her to do anything. It wasn't something that he was willing to do for anyone else and she could not deny that she enjoyed both having that power over him and being the only person to do so. "And it's a bit late to be starting something now. We'll have more time after the wedding when you'll be mine to do with as I please," she promised.

"For all eternity, my love," Dracula asserted lowly, not letting her forget that part of the wedding vows. When she nodded her assent to the addendum he finally loosened his grip on her, satisfied with her response.

Freed from his embrace, Agatha took a small step back though every inch of her immediately missed the closeness they'd just shared. Stopping him from kissing her may have been revenge for his eavesdropping but the time constraint still applied; some things deserved not to be rushed, after all, and that included their wedding. Dracula was still looking at her as if he disagreed with that sentiment - though he probably thought that the less time spent inside a church the better - so she attempted to refocus both of their thoughts, "Do you have the rings?"

"Of course," he practically scoffed, having taken the task of sourcing their wedding bands very seriously. "I also have a wedding gift for you," he added on with a smile, smoothly producing a box from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

It wasn't unprecedented for him to surprise her with a gift and she had grown quite fond of his thoughtfulness; every book, each item of clothing and the frequent bouquets of flowers had been considerately chosen by Dracula and she had eagerly accepted them. The box in his hand was square and small, and distinctly from a jewellers, but larger than one that would house a ring and her curiosity was instantly piqued. Gingerly taking the box from him she opened it slowly, prolonging the anticipation until a familiar insignia finally greeted her. "It's your ring," she said softly, her gaze shifting from the dragon to its owner.

"I had the jeweller refashion it into a pendant for you," the now previous owner explained, his eyes carefully scanning Agatha's features for any signs of displeasure. When she remained silent for longer than he had anticipated, Dracula prompted her for a response, "Do you not like it?"

"I do," Agatha whispered, unintentionally uttering the words that she would need in an hour or so. Her eyes dropped back down to the gift and she traced her thumb over the design that had become so intimately familiar to her over the last few months. It had been missing for a few weeks now but when she had questioned Dracula over its absence from his hand he had asserted that the only band he needed on his finger was the one that signified their marriage. She had been touched by the sentiment - she still was - but now she was completely floored by his gesture. "But it's your family ring," she offered, her eyes raising back to his.

Dracula smiled at her fondly once again, "You are my family now, Agatha."

"And you are a sentimental old fool," she replied but her voice was warm and betrayed just how deeply the deed had moved her.

"No," he began but with a small smile. "I'm your sentimental old fool."

"For all eternity," she agreed, echoing his earlier words and moved towards him, intending to seal the deal with a kiss.

Dracula took a step backward and held out his hand in a gesture that made Agatha stop. "Not until we're married," he grinned at her.

Having her own words used against her wasn't unusual or unwarranted; all was fair in love and war, after all, but that didn't mean she wouldn't retaliate. Taking the pendant out of its box she discarded the latter before placing the former in Dracula's still outstretched hand. Before he could verbalise a response to the action she turned away from him, sweeping up her long hair into one hand - she had given up trying to restrain her locks by other means because those other means had a habit of disappearing - and exposed her nape to him. He loved the slope of her neck; over a century ago he had returned to the same spot again and again to drink her blood but these days he took even more pleasure in trailing kisses over every spot his lips could reach.

Dracula fiddled with the clasp of the necklace in his hands as his eyes savoured the view in front of him, Agatha angling her neck slightly to one side in an invitation for more than just his hands. Once the chain was unclasped, he took his sweet time in placing it around her neck, one hand reaching around her throat whilst the other snaked between her hair filled grasp and her shoulder. When he had secured the chain he made sure to brush the backs of his fingers against the skin on the back of her neck and when that failed to rouse a response from Agatha he began, rather unnecessarily, to smooth out the necklace, his fingertips following its path to her throat and then lower.

Her breath hitched, quite unnecessarily and rather traitorously, as one finger of Dracula's hand slid off the pendant and onto her chest. He immediately retracted his hand at the noise and she groaned inwardly at both of their actions. She did not need to turn around to know that there was currently a smug grin on his face. "I have a gift for you, too," she casually admitted as she let her hair fall back down around her shoulders.

He waited for her to turn back towards him before he responded, "Oh?"

"But I'm afraid you'll have to wait until later to unwrap it," she explained nonchalantly, her eyes glancing down, past the pendant that now adorned her chest and onto her dress. Dracula wasn't the only one who had made good use of their time apart in Budapest. Marrying where they had first met was not as romantic as it appeared; it had been a bloodbath, after all, but it did seem strangely fitting for them. However, she had avoided returning to St. Mary's, preferring instead to explore the city and had come across a ladies boutique that, along with a suitable dress in which to marry, had quite the selection of undergarments. She was ruining the surprise but his reaction was worth it.

Dracula's eyes wandered up and down the length of her body once more but this time there was more heat in his gaze. "We should make haste, Agatha," he said lowly, his eyes on hers once more as he took her hand in his and began tugging her towards the door.