A/N: I'm bored and people are "fatally" addicted to social media, sending me stickers and memes like 5-year-olds, having their souls ripped out with loser-maneuvers because they can't learn how to write a letter, even with children's' non-fiction material to explain how to do that... so… I'm going to bump this to the top. Ef it… (This chapter is after the birth of Sarah in the M-Rated version and I never rated this chapter M.)

Our Baby Sleeps, But We Do Not...

Upon the birth of my daughter, which I understand is a reincarnation of my long-lost and beloved sister, a formation of even more trembling stirred me into absolute and utter bliss, especially now that a once-enemy had helped bring her to us. However, no uncertainties made me wonder of our baby girl. Truly, I had been almost as far apart to her in age as a father might have been. I would now go through all I had gone through again when helping her with my own mother, Naomi Collins. And... would I be afraid of reliving this in strange astonishment? No. As all the things in the life that I craved through the centuries, I would welcome it. The bewilderment would be a pleasure.

When I ascended the steps after our midwife, Angelique, had left, and shut the door of Josette's... Our Room, I finally let the words fall from my lips, that which I was so afraid to let fall, "We... are all friends... now."

Maggie raised her head to face me from where she had tenderly stared at our child as she held her, looking toward me between that gentle, lost expression of the faux Josette of her kidnapping, and then with the grin of all that was Maggie Evans, forming into the widely smiling Josette Dupres, my beloved bride. And so, side-angling her head, she cherished these words, while my dear friend Willie Loomis made preparations to explain all that had gone on to our entourage in the main room of our home.

Further events moved along as could be expected. Each member of our estate was cautious when approaching to get a glimpse of her, but each wore a smile of delight. There was a Christening, a few speculations of this French custom to the wife's maiden name, which Maggie reclaimed, and had laden to our daughter's last; Dupres. I told those in my family at the main house that my only question to it was how the tradition came to be. I had no inquiry to its purpose. A mother's name, a daughter's name. It made sense. But I still wanted to tack on that middle one to Sarah I had pronounced to her before, "Makepeace", for she did.

Yes, we counted her tiny and splendid fingers and toes while sitting before the fire downstairs. The finery of her hair, the delicacy of her flesh was the joy of our existence. We touched Sarah fondly at all minutes and hours we were conscious, stroking her face, changing her under things, and fretting over her temperature to what we were dressing her in. We sat together, Maggie nursing Sarah as the tiniest of creatures I once remembered, and when she was tired of cradling her head to her bosom, I felt blessed to enact this for her.

I couldn't resist, in this gesture, cautious of my own grip, to anoint from the neck to the ear of my reborn Josette, kisses as tender as I held our child's head in my palm. And Maggie would inhale so beautifully in response, all bringing a stimulation to her system, feeding our child more easily than before.

My Maggie nearly choked in tears as she viewed our infant at her breast, "Pop tells me it wasn't always so simple with me. But I realize magic, and accepting the life of this type, would bring so much more than anyone could expect."

Wrapping my arm around the back of her shoulders, I had to question, "Why did you accept it, Margaret?"

"Oh," she shuddered in that laugh I knew so well, "after recognizing who I was, and all of me, all the questions plaguing me throughout this life, seeing I'd been taken from two other lives and I so young? Exploring the answers and finally having them to explore with all the time before us? Our lives are too rich in mysteries. And..." she looked up from our child's eyes and into mine, "I promised you our destinies were one. I knew you hadn't meant to hurt me. There had to be a way out as I'd been striving to discover. Why let go of all of that love we reached for in some far off longing toward the ordinary? You and I know, Barnabas, the ordinary doesn't really exist."

"No," I shook my head, "certainly not when it comes to you and I."

Our lips met and that journey of months side by side without our union surged within me to hope for it again. As her tongue slid to mine and our thoughts spoke to one another, I recognized her heart was yearning to explore that understanding with me once more. She desired me and our curiousity about each other returned. (We all know to lose ones curiousity of a lover is to lose much of the love shared together.)

Up the stairs we carefully went; all three of us.

We had situated the crib close enough to our bed so we could keep a watch on our lovely re-creation. As little Sarah lay therein, she was so like I remembered the first time when I held her in my arms as a young man.

Many are called a miracle, but for me she truly was. For so long my own mother had not brought up a child beyond myself. In that day Sarah finally arrived. I marvelled then and I marvel now. The eyes of an infant are so blue, a colour the oceans ought to be but so seldom are when one stares, except between the brilliant reflection of moonlight in the evening as we shared from the cliffs or at the windows from the top story of our dwelling.

I looked up watching my bride who had put forth so much effort to take my simple seed and with our enjoining create such a splendour of unification. How I love and adored my daughter and I had one woman to show this gratitude to: Margaret Josette Dupres.

Maggie smiled and tried to be dismissive but I would never let her. Her hand was on the crib and my hand crept upon her filled breast. She looked down, "That's hardly an area of pleasure for you and I alone any more, my dearest."

"And I won't argue," I smiled, observing the auburn brilliance of her eyes, "you are the wonder and resplendence of all that I wanted and all that I saw." I held her by the back of her arms above the elbows, "Do you have any idea what you've done for us and why I wanted you so desperately?"

"Yes," she finally admitted, "but it is as I told Victoria when we sat together all of those years ago. She wanted to help me and I told her that she did... by listening. And that is all that I have done Barnabas. I listened... as you have done... with me."

She accepted my kiss, but as I made good to advance further our little lady expressed the need of attention. We turned to the crib and my motherly bride stretched down her ivory hands, scooping to lift our little one into her arms, cradling her close. My fingers sweeping across Sarah's supple forehead. The apricot cream of her flesh ignited a desire in me to always keep her safe, and with the powers her mother and I possessed, we knew we could protect her throughout her entire life.

"Breathe and hush, my daughter," she murmured, "we are here. Your days will be filled with little pains but greater joys," and Maggie's eyes lifted to mine in assertion that I confirm her words. I caressed the top of Sarah's head in all adoration. I do uphold the words of my Josette re-born. No other two could locate my heart and give me the freedom in sensuality nor the romance I craved. The loves I aspired to, and the tender affection I had been dying to display was designed on these two beings alone.

Taking Maggie into my embrace, she held Sarah to my chest. I reached down and kissed the tender flesh of yet another renewed bliss into my life. My God, even the smell of Sarah was the same as I remembered. Light and fresh and sweet and I had little concern that my sister from one existence was now my own daughter in another. After the torment we had been through, and considering our difference in age, everything was corrected. Our father had been rather dismissive but I had never been. Yes, I was her father now. In a way, perhaps I always held that station in my feelings for her. Sarah's loss had been the downfall of my world. Our reclamation of her to this life brought us all back into oneness.

My child's tiny, infant cries were silenced in my kiss. Ladling her from my bride, I put her to rest in her small bed once more. Standing back up, Josette crept down her hand and reached into my silken robe, sliding about my skin with that same curiousity to probe my nerves and search for signs of interest. It had been quite some time since we'd joined and I had no small yearning for her. Holding her other hand and pressing it to my lips I jested with her, "In a hurry to bring us another child?"

"No," she returned, her face bearing that smile I knew century after century, "Now that we have her, the only birth I want to bring is that love we've shared for so long before."

"Are you not shy knowing she's in the room?" I teased.

"No," said my bride, "no, she'll be none the wiser. From what we've witnessed she is a very sound sleeper. Besides, there were those nights she grew within me... just as you did."

How my insides ached from these confessions. What love I never dreamed I deserved but longed for was here before me. Margarette had this method of expressing such things that are often heard with repugnance, but for us would tender all that was sacred in love. My bright beauty stood before me and as I reached up to caress her clavicle I found my fingers weaving beneath the delightful cloth in which she was draped. As the material folded back, her shoulders, so precious to me were revealed and as she untied the cloth belt at her waist it all fell away and she was naked before me once more.

"Didn't she have a nightgown on underneath?"

I thought this, and she answered my thoughts, "No. I was so busy nursing I ended up nodding off in my robe."

Next she fingered the strap at my own robe. I let my arms straiten so I could join her in this. The air from the hearth fire and candles began feeding what warmth my discarded clothing took away and I swung my head to inspect the door. A satin drift of her hand across my cheek brought me back toward her gaze, "It's locked, Barnabas. I already checked."

I inhaled sharply, crouched down quickly to catch her slim but voluptuous form in my arms and take her to our sanctuary; her bed. The linens were turned down, the toes of her feet slipping into the folds and I wondered if her own folds would be as welcoming to our union once more.

I stood before her as she was laid down, the edge of the blanket at her hip, and she stretched out her hand to invite me toward her, "Oh, yes," my Josette exhaled, "I'm well healed and our baby sleeps, as we shall not for a long while now."

I gestured for room, gazing in awe. Maggie moved to her right and she did so as I moved beneath the linens to lay beside her, arched myself over to greet her lips and feel the ribs beneath the grown womanhood she now possessed above. (This was to nurture our child and not me, I knew.) She inhaled as I massaged that area and I found myself tasting the flesh of her side closest to me. Coursing to reach her hip and then kissing her smoothness back upward again.

What I knew now I had always wanted to know. What I saw in the past, a future with Josette lifting concerns for myself and my family by being a part of it. It took longer, a stretch of unfathomable time to me then, but here we were 200 Years Away from when we first met, from the 18th century and into the 20th. We were together at last and the love I sought kept me sated, but led me to hunger for her again and again.

To touch her now, I was recalling so many shadowy but amourous mornings of comfort in a half-asleep state beside her. Maggie's back to my front, my knees bending below hers, and our arms coiling in as many softening affectionate arrays as there were visible stars above our heads when we had to feed on beasts in the dark nights. One of my most beloved positions; us on our right sides facing the firelight on her bed, my left arm under hers, our wrists across her bosom, her left folded inward, fingers entwined with my own below her chin. Her right arm was bent upward as she rested her cheek upon it, and along the pillows was my right hand woven around her own. There was a state of utter bliss I could fade into and out of from dream to consciousness fused by this marriage we both held so dear, both passionately desirous and sated by living in the existence of it.

I brought myself back to the present as I suckled on her ribs and she pleaded softly in excitement. How oddly lovely in this; the fire crackling and our baby cooed in a hum behind me. I turned and Maggie lifted herself as we looked over to the cradle. No stirring could we see, but a strange utter in a half-cough, half-laugh. Sarah was fine, and so fine as she was with us in our room as we were making love again in smaller ways.

Beading my fingers to my bride's ribs where I'd tasted her, what flight in empyrean splendour was to be ours once more? I had been cursed to the night alone. Now she and I were blessed in a vampirism of twilight and shade, a world in between and sharing so much more. Was Josette as hungry for me as I was for her? More so as she told me,

"I haven't fed in months, mon demón."

I stopped remembering those nights before, gently resting my hand on her breast, swollen with nourishment in her new motherhood. She let her hand find mine here, caressing my fingers approvingly as she did so.

"Youhave," she uttered, looking into my eyes.

"Yes," I answered, "On the docks again..."

"And you did again what you've done before," she smiled, "you didn't take an innocent. You protected one, didn't you, Barnabas?"

I had to question her with some reproach, "Is it so easy for you to say that, my dearest?"

"Of course," she nodded confidently, "that's what this new life is meant for us. To be better."

"But what of the man? Again I have killed, and felt a tremor of my old evil."

"And what would have happened to her if you hadn't intervened, mon demón? She would have been hurt. She was worth saving. He wasn't."

Her fingers stroked my wrist now and I watched in awe. There had been and would be so much tenderness in this soft berth of hers. I was losing my desire in these thoughts of morality, knowing it was three nights in a row I'd fed on such people as we were discussing now. Hardly a romantic conversation.

And, of course, Maggie heard my inner reflections.

Smiling, she looked up at me, "Don't be downcast, my Barnabas. You have something that I need."

Three nights in a row I'd fed on the cruel. But I kept feeling shame when the newspaper headlines attracted attention to it. Then only to be confused downstairs, as Maggie nursed our little one while reading in a tired evaluation, "I see. Looks like the gossips around believe these were treacherous deeds. You've done splendidly, my dear." Then she would sigh, dropping the paper, "It is sad that the world is filled with such rotten people, but after living here, dealing with so much deviltry, trying to find some way out of the disgust I felt in being helpless about it... if this is all that works...fine," and she stroked Sarah's head as our child drank from her breast, "I'll accept a gruesome answer rather than no answer at all."

And in this memory, Maggie watched me from her pillow as I relived it, laying below me, "Still the reluctant vampire, Barnabas? How long will it be before you accept this along with me?"

Her miraculous face, so smooth and warm, so self-assured as she'd always been in all three lives. Yes, that was from whence the confidence sprang; she'd lived three lives and was aware of them all.

"If what I've done can provide you with solace?" I wondered, hopefully.

Josette moved her hand and grasped my bare shoulder, "Allow me... your throat... my love. Allow me to feed freely on what you have to offer, and feel so much remorse over. I'll take that burden from you."

As I leaned in toward her I concluded, "As you so often do, my Josette."

All was still in the room until I gasped as she pierced my flesh once again, my grip on her breast from this agony brought a moan from her as she drank. The blood and the sorrow was coming out, it was all coming out. Three nights, three deaths, and one love allowed to have what she couldn't in nine months of pregnancy, holding out to keep our child from what we were, to keep her mortal if it was possible and it was.

What surge in this giving as Josette drank from me, I focused on my own heart, concentrating on what she took and what I'd always wanted to give her; nourishment. Take from me, my love, be fed again. If my suffering allows you any joy, I'll suffer an eternity for you.

Hot liquid was flushing into her system, quantities I'd taken were hers now, another part of my being reaching her inner depths. Josette finally released herself. She inhaled while I exhaled and looking down at her blood soaked fangs, she was glowing, thriving. My heart was relieved of the guilt I'd felt, to watch her brightness shimmer in the firelight.

"Can I have the rest of you now, my husband?"

Could she? Always...

Caressing my throat, she watched as her wounds on me closed and healed, and as they did my passion re-ignited for her from deep within my chest to my vitals. I throbbed in my heart and below, stretching my hand to her inner thigh, massaging there and held her head in my other palm to bring her closer, to taste the inner flesh of her mouth, still with residuals of the blood that once flowed through me. A strange elation we perceived to be unified in so many ways.

In the sharing of blood we were combined, in the union of love we'd experienced our flesh, our minds spoke, our souls were united in the desire of so many conditions to what life meant to us: harmony, courage, destiny, serenity and the need for each other. We were now, we were our history, our future and both being a part of the occupant in the cradle beside us, a further symbol of our identity. Maggie, as Josette and more than Josette. Clutching at her thigh, her moan vibrated along my lips as I kissed her and drew her in stronger. A mist formed at my eyes as I pulled away and we both began to say, "thank you", but it trailed off and we were caught in a soft laugh together.

"What were you thanking me for?" I queried.

"For your love and our child," she gleamed pleasantly, "what were you thanking me for?"

The hand that was on her thigh reached up to hold her face.

"It was the same from me, my love," and I kissing, "my beautiful," kissing her again, "Josette," and again, "Kitty," and again, "Maggie Evans.

Gazing down upon her, watching as she closed her eyes and an expression of peace spread over her. I asked her why.

"Can you not feel it, mon demón? There's no need to look, just listen."

The connection was almost instant, the tiny sounds of relaxed breathing, and knowledge of unconsciousness. I smiled at my bride, "She sleeps, she dreams."

"Yes," Maggie beamed softly, the firelight from the candles and hearth flickering over her chestnut tresses along our pillows, "we won't be interrupted, will we? Neither the two of us nor she."

"Not at all," I agreed, in the softest of tones, and rested on my left as she turned to face me more, stroking me along my hip and chest, "but what fascinates me, is feeling, as a father now, so much gratitude, so much mystery. I become lost between my wonder at her and my desire for you. Such different forms of adoration and longing in the same room..." I let my fingers drift up her stomach, through to her collar and down to her wrist as she shivered at my touch, our hands clasping between our thighs. I leaned my face to slide about hers, "I can hear you, Josette. You're feeling this, too, aren't you?"

Her nose, lips and breath were slipping along my own, creating a tingling around my ears and reaching down my neck and throughout parts of my back. Smelling a bouquet of Josette in all her parts, and now a little laced throughout the room was the scent of our renewal and creation. And I could sense those feelings from her that I'd pondered; being lost between our love in carnality and our love in that which we begat.

My grip took her around the shoulder blade to wield her in a kiss. And as we engaged deeply to the flesh inside each other, I felt her hand at my back. Forming the words between our minds, "And so our love grows farther, richer, more intense, more complex."

Maggie pursued me physically and thought back, "All you had desired centuries ago, weren't you? What would happiness be like? It isn't simple, is it, Barnabas?"

Our tongues coiled in and our lips parted. I uttered, "No. Not simple, Josette. Never a goal to have conquered. A mystery to sweetly drift through. A journey that might never end. Even the half days we wake to, the nights we walk in, the mundane concerns of property and material possessions... all balance the yearning to be here with you, over... and over again. When two people find each other, how can the love fade?"

My pulsating darling grinned, "Hmm... a lot can distract people... when they have something we don't require."

"And what is that?"

"Electricity."

My brown eyed beauty was making a joke, but I knew what she meant. Distractions, machines. The candles burned steadily and the fire's glow flickered about us.

"What would we need with electricity..." I explained, "when we can make... our own?"

A/N: For those who heard the audio rough draft of this, I'm just gonna say it again, "Isn't that hot sh*t?" Thanks to Osheen Nevoy for both agreeing with that, helping me so much with the rough draft and giving the classic Bill Malloy nod of, "Ayup!"