Late the next evening they arrived at their next daytime shelter. This time it was a large farmhouse, complete with weed-filled gardens left abandoned when yet another family had left their home behind in search of a new and better life in the unexplored west. Claire sighed softly as they began taking a few belongings into the home before the sun rose once again, hindering their pace as usual. Though living their lives only at night was the new reality for them, and always would be now.

After the others had begun making the home theirs for the evening, Claire found herself alone with Baila once more, as neither of them seemed to be moving very quickly that night. Claire averted her eyes as they met Baila's while removing the last of the night’s necessities from the carriage.

“Miss Claire?” Baila’s voice interrupted a moment after Claire had moved to step around her.

“Yes, Baila?” she responded, trying to keep emotion out of her voice, and still not turning to look back at the young woman.

“I wanted to apologize again, for last evening,” she began softly. “I just…” she continued, though her voice was pained, “It’s just, I know Sean can’t give me his blood every night, but sometimes…” her voice trailed off. “It’s hard sometimes,” she finally decided on.

Claire sighed. She had a fairly good idea of what Baila’s intentions had been that night. Though she had been trying to deny them since. “It’s ok, Baila,” she finally managed. “You didn’t actually hurt anybody. And we know the addiction can be hard for you all,” she finished, attempting to comfort her. But her own feelings towards the girl still made it nigh impossible for Claire to make eye contact with her for more than the briefest of moments.

“I’d hate to think that I've upset you, though,” Baila added, struggling as much with her own words as Claire was.

“Me?” Claire asked with a tinge of disbelief, looking back toward the girl at last.

“You’re the one Sean cares about after all,” Baila nearly choked on the words, in spite of the truth to them. “And if I upset you, then….” she shook her head as she looked down. “It just terrifies me to think that I could do something that would upset him then too,” she finished in the same near whisper, already convinced that Sean was indeed upset with her.

Claire was caught a bit by the hurt in the girl’s voice, regardless of the fact that she hadn’t yet mentioned the previous evening to Sean. After a long pause, Claire finally spoke again, “What makes you think Sean is upset with you?” she asked, sure that she had been the only one giving the impression of upset, however involuntarily.

“Because,” Baila began as she looked down guiltily once more, before forcing herself onwards, “the alley wasn’t the first thing I tried,” she whispered.

“Tried?” was all Claire could respond with.

“To curb the craving,” Baila admitted in an even smaller voice, her tears close to surfacing.

Claire tried not to immediately jump to several possible conclusions before responding, “You didn’t actually hurt someone, did you?” she asked worriedly.

“Depends on how you mean,” was Baila’s response, whispered though it was.

“Did you actually physically harm someone, Baila?” Claire stated more firmly, unable to take her eyes off the girl now.

“No, not physically,” Baila said in the same quiet manner.

“Then, what did you do?” Claire returned with fear in her voice.

“I offered myself to him,” Baila admitted, painfully biting her lip, afraid to look up to see Claire’s reaction.

Claire tried to steel herself enough to continue in the face of the confession, “And now you think he’s upset at you, why?” she asked, trying to speak firmly, despite the shaking of her voice which belied any strength behind her words.

“He didn’t take the offer, Miss Claire,” Baila returned, forcing volume into her voice again. “He was afraid it would hurt you if he did,” she added more quietly once again, finally looking up at where Claire averted her eyes once more, falling into another long silence then.

Seeing that Baila still stood there, waiting on some kind of response, Claire had to ask, “Why are you telling me this, Baila?” she returned, her voice faltering as she spoke.

“I wanted you to know that I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to hurt you. That isn’t why I approached him, though I know that must be hard to believe,” she stated, reverting to a nearly inaudible whisper.

Another slight pause before Claire had to speak again, “How is telling me this, not meant to hurt me, Baila?” she asked with a sharpness to her tone.

“He didn’t take the offer though. He wouldn’t. Not without you knowing, anyway,” she then paused again. “And if that’s how he feels, then I’m not going to try and press him into feeling any differently. I don’t ever want to risk upsetting him, despite how hard this is for me, for the way I feel, all the time, now. That’s why I’m telling you. I wanted to assure you that I’m not going to try and make him hurt you, regardless of how hard this all is for me. It would still be harder to know I’ve hurt him in any way. And I know hurting you would hurt him,” she assured once more, before moving away again, having spoken about the subject as much as either of them could bear to right then.

Though Claire could not leave things as such and moved to follow her, “Baila.” Her voice stopped the girl before she reached the farmhouse door.

“Yes, ma’am?” Baila responded, afraid to look back at Claire.

“You’re still having the craving though. The craving that drove you to do the things you tried to do last night. Aren’t you?”

“I’m trying my hardest to fight it, ma’am,” she said softly, eyes still averted.

“It’s near impossible to fight for long though. Trust me, I know,” Claire paused only briefly. “And I know it’s even worse for the living,” Claire added to redirect herself from those memories. Though Baila simply continued looking downwards, not sure what else to say at that point, that she hadn’t already said. “I can try and help you though, Baila.” she finally finished, her volume dropping again.

“Help me?” Baila said, finally turning back. “How?” she asked, confused by the offer in more ways than one.

Claire sighed again as she moved the snow around below her feet where the two still stood near the door of the home. “Sean suggested something on the night you joined us,” she began. “I sort of pushed it out of my head, though I knew I should have listened,” another shake of her head. “You can have a drink from me instead of always having to depend on his blood. It’ll quell the addiction, for at least a few nights,” she offered quietly.

“You would help me, like that?” Baila whispered back, not sure she had heard right.

“I’m not just helping you, Baila,” she assured, but said nothing more as she moved to unbutton the long velvet sleeve that hugged her pale wrist. It may have taken almost thirty-one years, but for once she was doing as Sean had originally suggested, after all.

Once inside, Claire silently moved up the stairs while Baila and the other servants then began moving about the home’s kitchen, preparing a more nourishing meal for them than the blood truly was. Upstairs, Sean was alone in the room chosen to spend their day. He was attempting to make a return to his writing, despite the trials the two had been dealing with since their deaths.

“What are you doing up here by yourself?” she asked him softly as she entered the bedroom, gently closing the door behind her.

“Well, Haven’s attempting to plan the rest of our journey, as it’s getting harder to find shelter while traveling in this manner, at this time of year. The servants are preparing their dinner I assume. And you weren’t up here. So who else would I have been with?” he asked softly as he tried to keep his attention on his writing, as hard as it was to keep his attention on anything but her, ever.

“Well, I’m up here now,” she told him as she moved towards him. Her voice seemed to take on a slightly sultry tone, which did well to fully distract him from his writing as he turned to look up at her approach, wondering if he had only imagined that tone in her voice.

“That you are,” Sean returned softly as she stepped closer to where he sat, still regarding her curiously.

“I’m interrupting your writing though,” she told him in the same moment as moving to run her fingers lightly down his arm.

“I somehow don’t mind,” he told her with a slight smile as his eyes followed her fingers.

Claire couldn’t help smiling at his response. She then bravely moved to take a seat upon her knees in front of him, almost mirroring Baila’s motions of the previous night. Sean swallowed slightly, still too distracted by her seeming mood to allow many thoughts beyond the present.

Without more words, Claire moved her fingers to begin undoing the buttons of his shirt. Sean’s smile solidified as he continued to watch her motions with interest. The previous night’s tension was all but forgotten as she began undressing him again, after what had seemed like the longest three months of his life. Or was it unlife?

The only awkward moment that did occur that night was when Sean found himself having to explain to her the thing that he had learned himself on the night of her embrace. He awkwardly informed her that it was now a matter of will that allowed their kind to make love as humans did, rather than the automatic physiological response that used to control such functions. She looked up at him, slightly perplexed by that explanation for her body's seeming lack of arousal despite her mental desire for him.

“You just have to will it, that’s all,” he offered his response to her unspoken question as she lay below him, not sure why he hadn’t yet penetrated her, as he himself seemed obviously ‘ready’ for the encounter.

“I have to will it?” she asked as he continued kissing her neck and breasts as he lay above her, having already anticipated, and placed his own body into the proper state, himself.

He couldn’t help chuckling against the swell of her breasts at her understandable confusion. He looked back up to her eyes and added, “Instead of it happening automatically, you just have to tell yourself you want it to happen, and the blood will make it so.”

“Blood?” she repeated, looking just as wary of his explanation, though she continued weaving her fingers lovingly through his now loose locks in spite of that confusion.

“It is the only liquid inside you now,” he told her softly, though still wore the smile as he placed another gentle kiss upon her breast.

“I’m not sure I really understand,” she returned worriedly.

“If I try to make love to you, right at this moment, I’ll most likely hurt you,” he attempted, then added, “You simply have to tell your body to react, and it will,” he said gently.

“But it’s not like I don’t want to… I don’t understand, Sean,” she replied sadly.

“You just need time to figure it out, that’s all,” he assured her as he placed a soft kiss over her lips instead.

“But Sean, I wanted to make love with you tonight. I honestly did---do!” she corrected with assurance. “Like you said, it’s been months.”

“Then we shall,” he returned as he moved his mouth back down towards her breasts. “Time is one thing we do have an abundance of after all,” he assured with another smile as he continued moving his lips downwards over her stomach, and lower.

When his lips and tongue reached their destination, Claire couldn’t help her gasp as he skillfully began tasting her, coaxing her into that pleasure he never had failed to give her on all their other intimate moments together. The feel of his mouth moving against her did easily cause that pleasure to make her truly want to feel him inside her once more. And that's when she found that trigger to make her blood to obey her will at last. Her blood finally rushed to those now awakened nerves as her body heated to his touch, making it obvious that she had successfully learned that lesson, and quickly.

Sean grinned as he licked her blood from his lips, now remembering yet another of the cryptic statements Haven had made at one point or another. But his mind did not linger long on anything but pleasing his lover as he moved back up to kiss her once more. Then he easily slid inside her once again; a place that he had truly missed being, despite all of the other worries or desires that usually permeated their now endless nights together.