Author's Note: Don't own Degrassi. But...JUST MARRIED! So happy. Happy happy happy. Happy happy. Happy. HAPPY! Of course it just happened to be the best person in the world, lucky me...so, y'know. Sorry this person's already taken. lolol SO HAPPY! :) :) :)

Favours

Saraiah yawned a mewing yawn as a corner of sunlight hit her face from the tiny library window. When she opened her eyes she, blinded by the shock of the light which was all the more intense due to her genetics, could barely see a thing. The room appeared red and orange, a reflection of the insides of her eyelids. But, turning on her cunning ears, she felt she must be alone in the room. No familiar pecks or cooes from her pigeon friends, no scratches from any of the other animals that frequented the mansion. And no other vampire breath. Just the occasional crackle from a long-since fizzled fire. And some muffled birds voices, but only from outside the window. She wondered for a moment if she could've dreamed it all. She could handle the part with Declan being dreamed, but a potential friendship with one Eli Crisanto could only be real in her mind if today was to be a happy day.

As she slid to a sitting position, she realized that her beloved curtains were draped gently over her chilled body, and she couldn't withhold a wide smile. Only a hand much more caring than Declan's, which had defaced this piece of her art, this piece of her heart, had placed them over her in the early dawn. And that hand had to belong to Eli.

But, she realized, blinking away the light shock and stepping lightly to the library door, she had done a terrible job at guarding her apparent kidnappee. She crossed her fingers that he hadn't fled, though something about the way he had left her made her figure that he was interested in getting to know her as she was him.

Having closed the library door quietly behind her and prepared herself to tiptoe down the first flight of curving stairs, Saraiah jumped when she turned to find a full-grown person standing before her.

"Whoa!" Eli cried, laughing and trying to steady the silver platter he was holding. But the tea that was on it had been sufficiently unbalanced that a steady tinkle of it was dripping on to the thick red carpet beneath their feet. "Sorry," he said sheepishly as he replaced the teapot to an upright position. "Tea and toast," he continued, nodding to the dampened platter. "I thought I'd return the favour."

Now it was Saraiah's turn to be sheepish. Had he figured out her ploy with the tea? She gulped. "Just leave the tea," she suggested. "It'll dry. Shall we return to the library?"

A grin playing at the side of his lips, Eli nodded. He balanced the tray on one hand and swung the door back open with the other.

"So what did you find in the kitchen?" Saraiah asked, trying to be non-chalant as she seated herself back on the sofa.

"Oh, some yummy choke-cherry jelly, the stone-ground bread of course...and an assortment of herbs, I suppose."

"Oh?" she asked. "So what did you choose for our tea?"

"Well I found this interesting herb labelled 'Jamaican Dogwood,' which I hadn't heard of before, and I almost put it in, but then when I smelled it I changed my mind. Just went with good old peppermint."

Saraiah tittered. "That stuff is pretty rancid," she agreed.

"Seemed very familiar..."

He was teasing her.

"I'm sorry, okay!" she cried out. But he wasn't upset, and they were both smiling.

"It put me right out, hey?" he observed, now pouring what was left of the peppermint tea into a mug. He put his lips around its edge, and nodded down, as if to demonstrate, "This, however, is safe for the both of us." After taking a wholesome sip, he passed her the same mug. In fact, she realized now, he had only brought one mug with him.

"It did," she admitted. "I was lucky you told me your name before you fell asleep, so I had something to work from when I hit the books. But...why didn't you leave? I fell asleep, too, and I didn't even have any tea. How pathetic an attempt at safeguarding your continued presence at this place."

He smirked. "Oh, I just assumed you had charmed the property so I couldn't leave. So I didn't stray beyond the gate."

Hm. Not a bad idea. Her mind had been so filled with questions, wonderings, plots, and romances the night before, she hadn't thought of such a thing. Maybe she would do it later. Or maybe just skip to a love brew; then he would never even think to leave her...

"I see. Well maybe I just assumed in the same vein that you would choose not to leave. You seemed impressed last night by the company, after all."

"Indeed." He took a nibble of the toast, leaving a bit of the jelly playfully on his lip.

Staring directly at the jelly, Saraiah pursued a line of questioning. But she believed, now, she did it purely as though they were on something of a date, and were getting to know each other; not, rather, as the interrogator and prison guard Declan had evidently intended her to be. "So, Eli Crisanto, might I ask, how did you end up with such a name...and by such a name I mean – an extinct one."

She was relieved that he answered her question in much the same way – now much more at ease – a date, yes, a romantic date, and not a date with the dastardly. "I did adopt the name," he replied earnestly, as though he knew she already suspected as much. "The flower has significant meaning to me." He flicked at the jelly with a pink tongue, revealing a hint of his fangs. Saraiah shivered.

"And..." She swallowed hard, trying to contain herself on this now mundane line of conversation in order to hide her growing attraction to this young man. "And...which of the many significant meanings is most significant to you, Eli Crisanto?"

"Saraiah Cross, if indeed you wish me to call you by such a name, and by such a name, I mean one which I believe you must be as horrified by as I am...Saraiah Cross, of the many significant meanings for the Chrysanthemum, that beautiful golden flower which just this morning I dared to notice blooming happily in your flower bed, the one that is most significant to me is that of nobility amongst otherwise deceitful and self-gratifying flowers – the proud ones, you understand. The roses, the birds of paradise, these are the ones that think much of themselves. Meanwhile, the humble golden flower hides in the shadows awaiting someone to accidentally stumble upon its blooming beauty. The Chrysanthemum is noble precisely because it is humble – because it knows the fragility and fleetingness of life, and because it permits love that is otherwise frowned-upon by those who are proud but surely crave such love themselves."

Saraiah's eyes had now floated up to meet his. "In other words," she said quietly, "you see all of the meanings woven together in the primary one of nobility. The death, the...forbidden love...they are all things known by your sweet golden flower. Not pursued, necessarily, but realized as the essence of life."

"Exactly!" His eyes were shining. "You're brilliant, Saraiah. I'm glad you understand me." As he said this, his hand was hovering just beside her cheek, brushing a thin piece of flyaway hair from her face. She felt herself breathing faster, hoping he might brush unknowingly against her cheek...

Yet he looked away when he realized the intensity of the moment he had created. The toast was suddenly once more the object of his attention.

"So..." Saraiah quickly covered. "How did you come to such a meaning as significant for yourself?"

He let his eyes find hers again. "Saraiah Cross, the man before you is nothing. Perhaps even less than you realize. I do not deny it, and I do not despise it. I simply wish to serve the beauty of another gentle spirit with what little I have so that she might have help in realizing her own beauty..."

She...Saraiah's heart leaped. And now pounded. Could he mean her? And if so, she now questioned, was this chemistry between them something he had foreseen? Perhaps he had known of her before...and perhaps he had wished to come here. Had he even produced an elaborate plan involving the ignorant Declan and his consort...and if so, was he a stalker, or for real, a potential lover? So many questions...

And so much pleasure, lighting up the room once more in a red shock as Saraiah found her lips against his, the tips of their tongues grazing, and the nibblings of fang to lip. He had wanted to return her favours...and now, she thought as blood jolted pleasurably through her veins, he was.