Historic Background: Slavery in the United States was abolished in 1865 after the Civil War.

England 1867 (March): "Anger is a signal, and one worth listening to." – Harriet Lerner

They had been arguing much more often, recently. Now they could definitely be classed as a couple. Their passion had subsided into routine, then to drudgery and now constant friction. Although, they didn't argue about most of the stereotypical things that human couples might bring up. Oh, no. They were vampires – centuries old – there were much more pressing issues to "discuss". The evenings were rowdy; not because of sexual activities any more. Now it was more often raised voices throwing insults and abuse.

There was one ongoing argument in particular.

She wanted to go back. Back to America. Slavery had been abolished in America for two years now. She was officially a free women in every country. And for some reason she felt an unrelenting need to return to the United States.

'I want to see it, Fergus,' she had said on many occasions.

'Why on God's Earth would you want to go back to the country where you were treated like pig shit?' He always raised his voice, even if she hadn't intended to start a fight. And, of course, she would not lose a fight to Fergus. Hal believed that his so-called friend sometimes forgot that he was younger in vampire years than his lover. But arrogance clouded his judgement and made him believe he could overpower her.

'Because it's my home,' she always retorted.

'Hardly,' the other vampire had scoffed on one particular occasion. This was when one of their larger arguments had commenced and all that pent up frustration finally ruptured.

'Do you think I am so inane that I don't remember how I was treated in my human life?' she growled, clenching her hands into tight balls, as if to punch him square in the jaw. 'It makes no bloody difference to me.'

Fergus responded quickly. 'So you would give up everything you have here to travel somewhere where no one will give a fuck about your existence? I think that makes you pretty "inane", don't you?' Fergus was only concerned for his own selfish ends. His true colours always came out when he was angry and he had offended her deeply. Her fangs snapped out and she gnashed them at him. Fergus reacted with the same action.

'Tell me then, Fergus,' his name was laced with spite, 'what exactly do I have here?' Before he could raise his voice, she answered her own question. 'I'll tell you what. A few fucks. Maybe a roof over my head. I would say that is quite a meaningless existence.'

'Be thankful I give you any attention at all,' Fergus snarled through a clenched jaw. His eyes were ablaze, as were hers. He would hit her. It looked like he was ready to hit her. She practically laughed in bitterness, although it was probably her final attempt at stopping any tears that might spill over.

'As I recall,' she spat, 'you are normally the one who is grateful that I give you the time of day!' Fergus had been caught out. She was right. But he would never admit that. 'Sweet Lord!' she let out a heavy breath. 'It's like I'm just a worthless whore to you.' Fergus' nostrils flared. His lips had formed a thin line.

'That is all you are.'