When Hal woke up, the first thing he did was look for Lena. This morning he found her at the window on the far side of his bed, looking out at the rain. "Good morning," he said.

She responded, "I hate rain." There was deep sorrow in her voice. "That's not true. I don't hate rain, but I do hate today."

He sat up in his bed and looked more closely at her. There were tears on her cheeks. "What's wrong?"

"Every day of the year is the birthday or death day of somebody I love," she replied. "That's what happens when you live long enough."

"Whose is it today?" He got out of bed and stood next to her as he spoke.

She looked at him for a moment, measuring him, deciding if she wanted to share this much of herself with him. She looked away, back into the grey of the morning. "My son. Birthday. He was human. He lived a human life. He had a human death. Long ago."

Hal was silent. It hadn't occurred to him that she would have a human family or human children.

"Sometimes I think I'll drown in the weight of the death I have seen." She continued staring out the window.

Hal was unsure of what to do. Neither version of himself handled sorrow well, and he knew that she wouldn't allow him to comfort her the way he wanted: to take her in his arms and kiss the tears from her face, kiss her until she forgot about rain and sorrow and thought only of him. He would…Hal slammed the door on his thoughts quickly, before the curse betrayed him. Amorous Hal was the last thing Lena needed right now.

Finally he said awkwardly, "Need a shoulder?"

"I'm not allowed to need a shoulder," she replied bitterly, "to lean on or cry on."

"I won't tell," he said as he moved between her and the window and gently drew her to him. Only when he felt her cheek and hair and tears and breath on his skin did he admit to himself that he wanted the contact more than she did. He breathed in the smell of soap and shampoo and her personal scent, sweeter than human, somehow, more intoxicating. His body hummed as contact with her caused changes within him at the cellular level. This was what had made him reckless and happy yesterday, although he had put it down to the flying and the chance to escape the house for a little while.

She stayed for a few seconds before pulling away and shaking herself as if she was trying to shake off a nightmare. She rubbed her hands over her face as she moved away from the window and from him. "The challenge for the day is to find something to do. I really need to dance. I need the twist or the jitterbug or the Charleston or something else ridiculous and silly and meaningless."

Hal looked so alarmed at the idea of being dragged into the jitterbug that she couldn't help laughing. "Okay Fangboy, take a breath. We'll find something else to occupy our time. Do you know where I could find a few demons to kill?"

"Wherever they make assembly instructions for IKEA furniture. Sadly, that would require a trip out in the rain. Perhaps we could just have breakfast and see what presents itself." Hal spoke lightly as he pulled on the clothes he had brought into the room the previous night. Clearly she wanted things back to normal, which for them meant no real closeness.

Lena moved to the wardrobe to dress as well, and for the first time she didn't stop to make sure he wasn't watching her change. He looked up from tying his shoes to see her night shirt slipping over her head. It revealed the graceful curves of her back like a rising curtain reveals an exquisite theatre set. He watched, fascinated and curious—would she have the marks of wings on her back?

"I feel your eyes on me," she said as she tossed the night shirt into the laundry hamper.

"You didn't say not to look." He turned away as he spoke and began to make his bed.

"I didn't think I had to. How many times do you have to hear, 'Don't jump off a cliff' before you no longer need the warning?" The last few words were muffled as she pulled on her day shirt, which only differed from her night shirt in its purpose. Lena lived in t-shirts.

"An incorrect analogy," Hal said, and when she turned to argue with him, Lena saw that he was telling the truth. His curse hadn't darkened and his eyes were clear of hunger. He chuckled at her surprised look. "I can, on occasion, appreciate beauty for its own sake, my lady."

Lena blushed and turned away to unseal the bedroom door and open it before quickly making her bed. Hal took her action as a sign that he could leave their room so he took first turn in the bathroom. He recognized that he had been given an opportunity for an escape attempt, but he had no interest in pursuing it. As he stared into the vanity mirror that hid his reflection, Hal realized that it would take a great deal to force him away from her. She was his new addiction.

# # #

What Lena found to occupy their time that day was moving Hal back into his own room. He suspected that Lena's decision had something to do with their closeness of the previous day and especially that morning, and he was right. She had felt his need when he drew her to him; she hadn't anticipated it, and she wasn't prepared to accept it. Civility was acceptable, even expected under the conditions in which they would be living. Cordiality, a certain level of comfort, even a casual friendship built on their growing familiarity were all acceptable.

What she had sensed in him that morning was too human, and too familiar, and completely unacceptable. Vampires only need blood, and there was no sense of the vampire in Hal's need for her that morning. And yet, as she accepted his comfort for those few seconds, she felt the curse reach out for her and press in on the bitterness and anger she still carried for him.

They were washing up the breakfast dishes when Lena said, "I think we can make it work, if we rearrange the rooms so our beds are just across the wall from each other."

The comment came out of nowhere, but Hal knew immediately what she was talking about. He was surprisingly unhappy with the idea of regaining his privacy.

She continued, "Maintaining proximity at night is the big thing, and that would do it. We spend the days together anyway, and it might be a good idea to see if we can be in separate rooms, at least for a little while, without putting you at risk. What do you think?"

"It would be good to have my own room again," he lied. "And you said when you came here that your goal was to allow us each some independence."

"We'll just have an open-door policy except when changing clothes," Lena said thoughtfully, still working her way through the idea. "I don't guess you'll freak out if I wander in and plop down on your bed while you're reading."

"I assure you, my lady, that I will never 'freak out' to find you on my bed." He used the banter that allowed him to say a portion of what he meant but kept him from being too honest with her.

She rolled her eyes, of course. "We just have to make sure that we stay close, otherwise we're wasting our time. We're making progress, Hal. We are weakening the power of the blood curse. I can see it."

"And I can feel it," he agreed. "I wasn't expecting it to happen so quickly, or at all, for that matter. From the stories I heard, I thought that proximity had to be maintained at all times. But you are right. I can be across the room from you with no difficulties, for a short time at least."

"Well there you go." Lena accepted his statement as proof that he was ready for the move and immediately began plotting it out. They studied each room and decided what could go where before starting in Hal's room. With his bed already out of the way, it was easier to rearrange his room first.

The move took all day because it required shifting large pieces of furniture, which in turn required hoovering the rugs in the places where the furniture had been sitting. In Lena's case she had to move the dressing table and decided to replace it altogether with a desk and chair she found in the attic. Work space was more valuable than a table in front of which to primp, especially since she didn't bother with makeup.

"I don't suppose Alex is available to assist?" Hal asked as they considered moving his wardrobe.

"Nope. She's spending the day with Angus," Lena replied.

"Angus?"

"One of the movers. They met when we did the haul-away."

"Oh, of course. Boisterous young chap. Quite fit, I believe Alex said at the time. I could characterize him as burly." Hal recalled the ghost, and Alex's interest in him.

"That's the one."

"I hope she enjoys herself," Hal said. "So, it's a date?"

"Alex considers it a date. In fact, she intends to find a way for them to have sex before the day is over. I fear she may be disappointed," Lena replied.

"Because ghosts can't have sex?" Hal said.

"No, we both know that's not true. Angus may prefer the companionship of men when it comes to that area," Lena said as she moved to one side of the wardrobe in preparation of moving it.

Hal studied her for a moment. "You checked up on him, didn't you? Alex is a grown woman, you know."

"And a young ghost, so yes, I had discreet inquiries made. Now come on, Fangboy, let's get cracking. This thing isn't going to move itself."

Hal moved reluctantly to the other side of the wardrobe. "In spite of your inquiries, I'd still wager that Alex can make a go of it with young Angus. The girl is determined to have sex."

"I'll take that bet," Lena said. "State your terms."

"Let me have a think on it," he replied with a smile. "I want to make it worth my while."

The bet ended up being a simple one—dinner of choice, prepared by the loser. Alex's expression when she returned to Honolulu Heights that evening told Hal that he would be cooking. Lena's I-told-you-so look didn't help his mood any. How the bloody hell was he going to pull off 'a rack of ribs, pit beans, and potato salad'? For that matter, what the bloody hell were they? Hal suspected he would be spending a long time with Google before he figured it all out.

Lena said good night to Hal at the door to his room. She looked him over carefully; the curse lay quietly over him.

"Do I need to lock you in tonight?"

"Would you sleep better knowing that I was confined?" He returned her question with his own.

"No. Would you?"

He gave it a moment's thought. "Possibly."

"Then I will. Good night, Hal," she said, and he replied as he closed the door between them.

He felt her touch it and sensed that it had been sealed. He realized that he was trapped. He hated being trapped, but it was for the best, and she could let him out at any time. Unless she simply chose not to. He had a moment's panic until he heard her voice from the other side of the door.

"I'm still here. Are you okay? I know you don't like being trapped."

"It just occurred to me, my lady, that I am at your mercy. What would happen if you chose not to open my door in the morning?" He just managed to sound calm.

She chuckled. "Hal, you are always at my mercy. Haven't you figured that out yet?"

"Still. This is different."

She unsealed the door and opened it. "Maybe a better idea is for us both to sleep with our doors ajar a bit, so we can check on each other if need be, without feeling like we are intruding."

"I am willing to try that alternative," he said, keeping the relief from his voice. He stood in the doorway of his room and watched her go to her own and close the door behind her. In a minute she re-opened it slightly, a sign that she had changed into her night clothes and no longer required privacy.

Hal did the same, closing his door as he was supposed to and re-opening it slightly when he was in the shorts that he had taken to wearing at night. As he settled into bed Hal heard the sound of music from the next room. Elgar, if he wasn't mistaken, the Enigma Variations. He heard the whispers of fabric and footsteps and knew she was dancing, like water in a stream or a feather on the breeze. She was dancing because she was alone.

# # #

They were finishing the washing up after lunch when Lena's tools arrived. They had two distinct reactions at the knock on the door. "Human." Hal immediately became alert for signs of his bloodlust returning.

"Tools!" Lena ran down the hall to the front door and paused to look back into the kitchen at Hal. When she saw him behind the counter, alert but calm, she flashed him a huge, warm smile. He was checking himself, a good step forward. The curse hadn't flared, another good step forward.

Hal thought he would slay dragons to keep himself in the warmth of her smile. Not that he believed in dragons, or in his ability to slay one before she beat him to it.

She quickly signed for the order and sent the delivery driver on her way. Within minutes the living room was strewn with an array of odd and terrifying equipment, most of which Hal had no idea how to use. Alex, who had appeared from her room in the attic when she heard the noise, clearly had some experience and quickly got battery packs charging for the cordless power tools. Her father, she explained, had been happy to have her help with home repair chores and the like.

After cutting the power to the two rooms they would be working in, the trio went to work pulling off the woodwork from around the doors and windows. Before they began Lena insisted on putting on a long-sleeved shirt over her ubiquitous t-shirt, and she wore leather work gloves and sturdy boots that had come with the tools.

Hal looked at her quizzically.

"Workplace accidents are no laughing matter," she said, "especially with a vampire in the room."

Of course, she was protecting Hal from the effects of her blood. Her thoughtfulness truly involved forethought and planning on her part.

Lena got a hammer and flat bar and started prying the trim boards off the walls. Hal watched for a minute before picking up a second set of the same type of tools and doing the same. Alex used ghost power to pop the nails out and drop them into an empty bucket. She stacked the boards in the hall for Tom to look at when he got home.

Lena worked quickly and expertly and moved with grace and precision that left Hal feeling like a clod as he tried to keep up. Construction had never been his area of interest, although circumstances had forced him into that type of labor from time to time. To make matters worse, the skills related to building had historically been man-territory and Hal now found himself working with two attractive women who knew more about what they were doing than he did.

Hal was ready for a break long before Lena stopped for tea. By the time Tom got home from work and came upstairs to investigate the noise, the two rooms were just about stripped out and ready for the real demolition to begin. Tom was thrilled with the new tools, of course, and required a piece-by-piece examination of them all, after which they fixed supper and were done for the day. Or so Hal thought.

"Hey Alex, you want to rent-a-ghost some plaster to the bin?" Lena asked as she picked up an 8-pound sledge hammer and a 6-pound wrecking bar. "I'm in the mood to tear something up."

"Fuck yeah!" Alex was right behind her up the stairs.

The two men looked at each other for a minute. "Well, shit," Hal said as he heaved himself up out of his comfortable spot on the sofa and trudged up the stairs.

"Reckon that leaves me for the washing up, then," Tom said, and he went to the kitchen to get started.

Hal got to the construction site in time to watch Lena swing the sledge at a wall and bury the heavy head of the hammer in the wallpaper-covered plaster. She wrenched it back out, pulling a chunk of the plaster and lathe wall with it. Plaster dust and horsehair flew and sifted through the air in the room, caught in the swirls of breeze that came in through the gaping window. They had removed the panes earlier in the day.

Hal quickly stepped into the room and shut the door behind him to keep the dust from escaping into the rest of the house as Lena swung again. "Yeah baby!" she yelled as she pulled off a large chunk of wall and sent it crashing to the floor. "You should try this, Hal. It's good for you!"

He took the sledge hammer from her hand. "If you insist," he said with a polite smile. It looked like dirty, messy work to him, but he'd give it a go, especially since bloodless destruction was the only type he was allowed these days.

Hal quickly learned that he enjoyed the raw force needed for full-scale demolition and that it was indeed good for him. He worked his way around the room with the sledge and Lena followed with the wrecking bar to pry the remaining plaster and lathe off the studs. Alex threw the small pieces out the window into the waiting bin below and rent-a-ghosted the bigger ones that wouldn't fit through the window.

Tom joined the fun as quickly as he could and brought a second sledge with him. Soon the walls were stripped and they turned their attention to the ceiling.

"Reckon we need a ladder," Tom said as they stood together on one side of the room, surveying their handiwork and considering the next step.

They brought in the stepladder and got to the serious business of taking down the ceiling safely. Tom stood on the ladder with the wrecking bar and peeled off pieces of plaster and lathe, while Alex attended to cleanup and occasionally levitated big pieces carefully to the floor. Lena moved to one wall of the room with a four-foot level and Hal followed, unsure of what she was planning.

"Look at the studs, Hal. There are nails in them where the lathes were nailed up before they plastered. I have to either replace the studs or pull all the nails. I'm not sure which to do. I thought I'd check them to see how straight they are. If they're in good shape, I can leave them. If not, I'll replace them."

He said truthfully, "I don't know why that matters." For some reason it didn't bother him to be honest with her when it was just the two of them; something in her manner made his façade of superiority unnecessary.

"We will be putting sound-deadening plasterboard up and it is of uniform thickness, so the wall will be wavy and lumpy if the studs aren't straight." She pointed at the uneven thickness of the plaster chunks on the floor. "A good plasterer can make an uneven wall smooth and straight, but there's no give with the stuff we'll be putting up. It's double-layered, one layer of concrete and one of plaster, with a membrane between. The studs have to be in good shape for it."

"So you're going to check the individual boards that are standing in each wall?"

"Yep, that's what we're going to do," she replied with a smile, making sure he heard the 'we.'

"Then could I suggest that we start with a wall that you don't intend to tear down?" Hal smirked as he pointed out that they were standing in front of the dividing wall between rooms, which was slated for removal.

Lena facepalmed, leather glove and all, as she realized her mistake. "Jesus, Hal, it's a good thing you're here." With that they moved to an exterior wall and began the process of marking studs for replacement. Hal was more than happy to helpand his heart skipped a bit faster after her comment. She had never suggested, even in an offhand manner, that she was glad to have him around.

Tom finished the ceiling teardown and went to shower and get ready for bed. He enjoyed working with his mates again, but he took his position at the Barry Grand very seriously and built the rest of his schedule around that. As hotel manager Tom spent a good part of every day at the hotel, and in truth he was there more than necessary, but Tom was beginning to feel like it was his place and he enjoyed it. He really enjoyed it when Alex came to visit him there; he didn't understand why Hal had always seemed annoyed by her when she popped in. Time spent with Alex was the best kind of time in Tom's mind.

Hal and Lena worked until it was their turn to wash up, which they did with much less fuss now, each waiting in turn outside the bathroom rather than in it. Alex decided to work a while longer—it was better than watching crap telly. She had the cleanup finished and nails pulled from all the studs by morning.

# # #

With the second room stripped to the studs and the wall between the two rooms torn out, Lena could see that she would have a decent-sized space for dancing. The Harrimans returned to Honolulu Heights with finished plans for the first steps of the renovation and the initial suggestions for modernizing the Barry Grand. The home reno was an immediate go, with a crew to begin work and materials slated for delivery the next morning.

The hotel proved to be more problematic, as Bill Harriman suggested that the best way to maximize its potential was to divide it into sections, one family-oriented and the other a more exclusive, boutique style. It was a very popular idea in the hotel and resort industry and one the Lena was already familiar with. Hotel 41 was a perfect example of the concept.

Tom didn't get the concept, and Hal was dubious that anyone would make the trip to Barry Island for the sake of a luxurious stay at a premium price when there were so many more interesting places to go. But Bill Harriman had done his research and presented the beauty of Wales and the possibility of the Barry Grand as an exclusive getaway destination in a very persuasive manner.

In the end Lena settled the discussion by deciding not to decide. They would begin the work in all areas except the one Bill had set aside as a possible separate entity. In the meantime, the housemates would investigate the concept of a boutique hotel and study Bill's presentation further.

Lena could have simply overruled Tom and Hal, but in all honesty the hotel wasn't that important to her. Keeping equilibrium in the house was much closer to the top of her list, and besides, there was plenty of time to make the decision.

"I suppose you want as many supernaturals as possible on the crews?" Bill asked.

"The house, absolutely. The hotel, no," she replied. "Tom has a human staff in place that we'd like to keep employed, if possible, during the renovation, so human crews are fine. What do you think, Tom, any ideas about your people?"

"Well I was thinkin', what with crews working around the place all day, they're bound to get hungry an' aught," Tom replied. "Maybe we could keep the kitchen open, fix breakfast and lunch and maybe tea."

Hal looked at Tom, impressed by his forethought. "That's a good idea, Tom. The kitchen is one area of the hotel that's in good shape. Tradesmen usually have to provide their own meals, but I'm sure they would appreciate having that included in their contract."

Lena agreed. "I like that idea. Also, I'd like to use as much local labor as possible, but maybe the out-of-towners can stay in the section of the hotel that we're not sure what to do with?"

"I reckon we could take care of 'em," Tom said casually. He was certain that his people were up for the job.

Lena turned to Bill Harriman. "Just to be clear, Bill, Tom is the man on the ground for this job. All questions go to him. If he needs me, he can call me."

Bill nodded his head. "Understood." He turned to Tom and extended his hand. "I look forward to working with you." The two men shook hands. "Now, where can we go to look at a timeline and start planning?"

"We'll leave you to it," Lena said as she stood up from the dining room table. "Georgia, let's walk through the spaces you'll be working in. I want a better picture." The women headed for the kitchen with Georgia's set of blueprints.

Hal stayed at the table with Tom and Bill Harriman. "You don't mind if I listen in, do you?" he asked with a smile. "I have some interest in the Barry Grand." Hal was interested in the plans for the hotel renovation, but he was also curious to see how long he could be comfortable without Lena's presence. He didn't know if Bill Harriman would have the same effect on him and wanted the chance to find out.

Hal learned that all guests would be checked out of the hotel by the end of the week, that all furniture and accessories would be loaded onto trucks for shipment to an auction house, that Bill had several excellent craftsmen and foremen coming to supervise various aspects of the job, and that he, Hal, couldn't stand to be away from Lena for more than 15 minutes.

That's how long it took before he had to excuse himself and go upstairs where she and Georgia were studying the blueprints for the new bathroom.

Lena saw him coming down the hall. "What do you think?" she asked as she held out a mostly unrolled sheaf of large pages.

"I have no idea what I'm looking at," Hal confessed.

"Come here, then, we'll go over it," Lena said casually, and she stepped into the empty room with Hal close behind her. She sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor and spread out the blueprint and he sat next to her, close enough for their shoulders to touch.

"Here, hold this end, the thing wants to roll up," Lena said, and Hal did as he was told, brushing her hand as he set his own down on the paper. He needed her contact after their time apart.

She held the other end of the roll open and went through the plan, step-by-step, showing him where in the room everything would be and tangentially teaching him what the symbols on the paper meant as she went. She talked about the dimensions involved, and space between toilet, sink, and bathtub, and how Georgia had decided to add linen storage instead of a separate shower.

Georgia stood in the doorway of the empty room and watched as Hal and Lena sat shoulder-to-shoulder, heads together, and talked like friends. It was a far cry from her first trip to Honolulu Heights and she was struck by the contrast.

When she was certain that Hal understood the suggested layout of the room, Lena explained. "We need to agree on the plan before starting."

"And do you agree?" he asked.

"I do, yeah. I think it's a good plan. What about you?" Lena asked.

"Is there room for the bathtub to be larger?" he asked. "I've always had a penchant for a large, deep tub."

Lena waited for the arch look or the flick of the eyebrow to signify that Hal was suggesting a tub big enough for two, but he was completely straight-faced, so she took him seriously. She remembered that he had been around for the centuries during which bathing was frowned upon by the church and by proper society throughout Europe.

"I love modern technology," she said, again apparently at random.

Hal got the reference this time, however. "Hot and cold running water and a clean vessel to bathe in," he said.

"I'm with you. As big a tub as we can get in the room," Lena said. "Georgia?" she called over her shoulder, "what do you think?"

Georgia Harriman joined them and decided that there was room for a bigger tub, but there were no standard sizes that fit the larger dimension she had to work with.

"Special order it," Lena said. "Custom-made shouldn't take that much longer. Center-mount faucets," she added, strictly as a design element and not because it would be more comfortable for two people sharing a tub.