Present Night I: "Love truth, and pardon error." – Voltaire

Eve's incessant crying was starting to grate on the ears of everyone. It was old news that the baby had started teething, a lengthy and painful process for both her and the household. It was Annie's turn on the rota to watch over her, but despite her best attempts at calming Eve – holding out her finger for the baby to gnaw on, cradling her, bobbing her gently up and down in her arms – nothing would work.

'Please,' Annie begged in a desperate whisper, 'or the neighbours will think we're abusing you!' The stairs which led up to the attic room creaked. Maybe Tom or Hal had come to lend a helping hand, but the person who arrived was somewhat of a surprise to the ghost. Not only was it Elizabeth, but she had made a complete transition from the clean-cut image she had sported on arrival. Her hair had been washed and fastened up in a ponytail and she had now donned a pair of jogging bottoms and a shirt which was clearly too big.

'Anything I can do?' Elizabeth asked, wincing as Eve screamed yet again.

'Urm, no, I'm fine. Really. Everything is under control!'

The vampire entered the room, keeping close to the wall. Even at this distance the crucifixes hanging over Eve's crib were bringing on a headache. 'Honestly,' she said, 'I know a thing or two about babies.'

'Did you have children?' Annie asked curiously. 'Y'know...before...?' She made a sweeping hand gesture to indicate Elizabeth's entire form. She shook her head with a look akin to dejection.

'Even if I hadn't been turned, I doubt I would have had the chance to start a real family,' she looked around at the baby toys which had been piled up neatly on either side of the room (most likely by Annie). 'Mulatto girls were very valuable for...various means, if you catch my drift.' Annie didn't need an explanation. Eve was struggling and flailing about in her arms now. The ghost held her out to avoid being smacked across the face by Eve's small hands.

'I can't calm her down.'

'Let me try,' Elizabeth said, reaching out to take Eve. 'You have my word I will not do anything to abuse whatever trust you have in me.' Annie deliberated for a while, but eventually Eve's wailing made up her mind for her. She carefully passed the baby to the vampire, who automatically supported her head in one hand and wrapped the other underneath to cradle Eve's lower half.

Then, in a calming voice, Elizabeth began to sing:

"Swing low, sweet chariot,

Comin' for to carry me home..."

She continued in the same fashion, swaying Eve from side to side in time with the beat. She held her pinky finger out for the baby who, nibbled on it with her sore gums. Within no time, Eve had been lulled into sleep and curled up against the cold body of Elizabeth.

'Here,' she passed the baby back to Annie, who lay Eve down in her cot and pulled the blanket up over her. The women crept out of the room, before continuing their conversation. Annie pressed her index finger to her lips to indicate that they should keep their voices down.

'How did you do that?'Annie hissed excitedly, pulling the door to behind her. Elizabeth shrugged.

'It's something I remembered from when I was younger...about 300 years younger.'

Annie chuckled, while thanking Elizabeth for her help. The vampire smiled back. Never had she felt such warmth radiate of a ghost, in love and physical body temperature. It was wonderful to feel wanted – one of the few times she had been wanted in her long life. She was also grateful that her crucifix induced migraine was now gone.

'I better get back to watching her,' Annie said eventually. 'We always have someone keeping an eye over Eve, just in case.' Elizabeth nodded in complete understanding.

'I could sit with you if you like,' she offered, slipping her hands into the fleecy pockets of her trousers.

'Oh, no, no, no,' Annie waved her hands dismissively, with a look shock. 'I wouldn't want to keep you away from...whatever you were going to do!' Elizabeth was about to protest but Annie continued. 'Go and relax! Watch TV, or find a book. You're a guest. I wouldn't want you to become a temp babysitter while you're here!' The vampire saw no point in arguing with the ghost. It was obvious Annie had her exact way of doing things. (She hadn't failed to notice the extensive, colour co-ordinated rota on the Hawaii wall downstairs).

'I suppose a good book wouldn't go amiss.' This brought a pearly grin to Annie's face. She slipped round the door and vanished into the nursery. Elizabeth slowly made her way back downstairs, only just realising how natural it felt to hold a baby in her arms. And how alone she now was.

-x-

At precisely four minutes past nine, Hal set aside his final origami creation on the mantle piece in his room. He had managed six since nine o'clock, ranging from the simple crane to the more complex Kawasaki rose which he had just completed. He would have been able to complete many more if he hadn't been interrupted continually by Eve's bawling. As he admired his own work, he spaced them out evenly and precisely, to the millimetre. Once he was content with his work, Hal made his way over to the bookshelf. He scanned the uniformed collections for something to read for the next forty-five minutes. The works of John Clare jumped out at him; he was in the mood for some classical, British poetry.

The vampire settled himself on the sofa by the window and turned to the first page. His fingers worked through it delicately; it was a first edition and the pages would undoubtedly fall from their binding if he pulled them too hard. Eve's crying had now ceased, thankfully. He could read without disruption. Things always seemed to get in the way these days. Hal tried so hard to stick to his routine no matter what, but something always came up. How could it not when the "War Child" was being housed in the room upstairs.

He was partway through the book before there was a knock on the door. He wanted to ignore it. Ignore any interruption to his routine. But that would be impolite. He would not let his manners lapse.

'Come in,' he called out. As the handle was turned and the door pushed open, a voice in Hal's brain began to wish that it would not be Elizabeth. He couldn't smell her perfume, so it couldn't have been. But it was.

For a few seconds she just stared at him, her hands in the pockets of her less-than-feminine trousers. Hal glanced over the top of his book, his fingers beginning to clutch a bit too tightly at the pages.

'Have you got a moment?' she finally asked, stepping over the threshold. Her eyes swept across the room. Her brow arched as she realised just how organised everything was. 'You really do have an obsession with order,' she muttered.

'Did you want something?' Hal asked, still seated and still holding his book. Maybe she would take the hint and leave him alone. That was all he wanted. Well, not completely. He still remembered the final day she was in his company all those years ago.

'I wanted to talk with you.' She sighed. 'Properly talk with you.' Hal swallowed hard. There was nowhere to hide now. She was encroaching on his territory. Elizabeth stepped forward cautiously, shutting the door behind her. 'Are you going to keep hiding behind that book or are we going to behave like adults?'

'Fine.' Hal rose from his seat, closing the book as he stood up. He replaced it on the shelf and then turned back to Elizabeth. 'What did you want to talk about?' The bed was now between them. Her face had changed to complete disbelief.

'Bloody hell, Hal! Anything!' she exclaimed exasperatedly. 'I haven't seen you for 145 years and so far you've hidden away or tried to embarrass me in front of your friends!' Hal remained calm. He refused to start an argument which would attract attention. Confrontation without raised voices would be a challenge with Elizabeth. He too was dying to demand answers. Even now he was struggling to control himself.

'All right then,' he began, his voice a complete contrast to hers, 'should we work chronologically?' His serenity surprised her and she too relaxed. Hal walked to the chest at the end of his bed. He was desperate to keep his distance.

'It's not the case that I want to know everything you've done. According to Annie some pretty traumatic things had happened over the past few years...' As she spoke she spotted the framed picture on the mantelpiece of an elderly, black man. That must have been Leo.

'Annie likes to exaggerate.'

'That may be so, but my point still stands,' Elizabeth countered. 'I don't need explanations. But you pretending that everything has just gone away is doing my head in! I want to know how you are. If you're all right.'

Hal huffed. 'Why would you care?'

Because it has always been the question at the back of my mind, she thought. Her voice, however, said something completely different. 'I just think that...honesty is the best policy.'

'Honesty?' his voice rose louder than he had wanted it to. Hal restrained himself. 'If honesty is going to be the foundation of this conversation then I think you need to assess yourself first.' What a nerve she had pretending that she was more truthful than him. Elizabeth had fallen silent. Her shoulders sagged. Her eyes turned to the floor. Then her fingers moved to stroke her necklace. She had found it so easy to question him, but had now shied away like a timid rabbit.

'Go on...' She glanced at him under her curtain of lashes. 'Ask away. You're dying to.'

'Why come back?' he queried without hesitation. 'After so long, what was the point? And don't say it was just for Fergus.'

'I thought that would have been obvious.'

'Answer the question.'

Her bottom lip trembled. 'I was having a moment of insecurity.' Hal's gaze faltered, as he struggled to process that simple sentence. She realised she had caught him off guard. 'You never realised? For all those years?' She laughed quietly. 'Christ, you're blind.' Elizabeth strolled over to the mantelpiece, admiring the origami structures which were lined up. 'You thought Fergus and I cared about each other?'

'You were very convincing...' Hal admitted.

'But only using each other.'

So, Hal had been right. Their feelings had not been authentic, but he had been too envious to really take time to realise that. He looked across the room. Elizabeth had picked up the rose and was running her index finger along the hard edges of the paper. Hal flinched at the image of her damaging his work, but he knew her hands were too delicate to do that (unless she was angry of course).

She had become confident once more. She had control of the ball, as it were. 'I'm willing to explain...If that's what you want.'

'Why were you using him?' Hal didn't care much about the other side of the story. Fergus was dead. He didn't matter. She did. 'What on earth could that vampire possibly have given you?' Elizabeth carefully placed the rose back in its original place; edging it back into the exact spot Hal had previously positioned it. She was clearly aware of his OCD level of precision.

'I suppose you could say he was a safeguard.' Her necklace shone in the unnatural light of the bulb above her; as did the angles of her shoulder blades and jaw. She looked troubled; her brow creased and her teeth nipping at her bottom lip. 'Do you have any idea what being born into slavery does to you? You're an object. A possession. No one cares if you live or die. They'll be more concerned about the money they wasted paying for you.'

The realisation quickly dawned on the older vampire. 'So you found someone who did want you?'

'Exactly,' a forlorn smile tweaked at the edge of Elizabeth's lips. Then she let out a sigh of relief. It was as if she had been waiting to disclose that information with him for years. 'Does that answer everything for you?' Hal nodded, realising that the pity he could never she her before was suddenly bringing a lump to his throat. Strangely the tension in the air between them lightened.

'Wait...There is one more.' The direction of his line of sight gave away what he was about to say. 'Why do you still wear that necklace?'

'Habit, I suppose.' Elizabeth shrugged. 'I just can't seem to get rid of it.'

'You should.' It sounded like he was giving her an instruction. Hal folded his arms across his chest. He was turning on the defensive and she hadn't even spoken. He was anticipating what she might say. She spoke just as he had that thought.

'Let's just say, this is my emotional baggage,' she explained, holding the silver pendant up by the chain. 'You of all people should know that doesn't just go away.'

Hal moved to counter her point instantly. 'I don't let mine rule me. I manage it.' The smile Elizabeth exhibited now was much more pleasant. She looked Hal up and down with an agreeable nod.

'I prefer you now, than I ever did 145 years back. You're much more polite.' Hal felt a numbed sense of pride. 'Not that you weren't before,' her voice was distant and Elizabeth rubbed a thoughtful finger along the back of her right hand. 'Now,' her voice became candid once more, 'tell me why you came down to the cellar in 1855.'

A/N: Once again thank you to all those who have put this on their story alert/ reviewed! And I would love to hear other reader's opinions! I do hope you continue to enjoy it :3