"Well, what is it you wanted to tell me?" Topanga asked. They had gotten Cory's favorite booth at Chubbie's, the one farthest from the entrance yet closest to the counter. He figured the sentimentality of the location would ease the discussion.

"Well, it's Shawn," he started. A sudden motion caught his eye, and he glanced up to see Shawn standing near the counter. The sunglasses were off, and his oddly iridescent eyes watched him intently.

"Yes?" Topanga prodded, bringing back his attention.

"Shawn," he repeated, trying to figure out how to continue. "Do you believe in ghosts?" he asked her. That's normal enough, right?

"Ghosts?" she asked, surprised at the question. "Well, not as much as I used to… Why, has Shawn been haunted by a ghost?"

"You're not far off…" he said, trying to come up with something good to say. Perhaps some clever commentary gently easing in to the complicated concept that… "Shawn's a vampire," he blurted.

"What?" she laughed. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," he said, attempting to convey his truthfulness in his voice. "I am."

"And Shawn told you this?" she said incredulously, calming down a bit.

"He did," Cory agreed. "Then he showed me he didn't have a reflection."

"Oh, come on, Cory," she said, annoyance appearing on her features. "I know I used to be the weird hippie kid, but you can't possibly expect me to fall for something like this."

"Shawn?" Cory called out, looking for his friend's support. With a blur and a sudden shift of weight, Shawn appeared next to him on the bench, sipping a glass of Cola.

Topanga jumped in her seat. "Where did you come from?"

"From the trailer park," Shawn joked, winking at her, and drawing attention to his eyes.

"So, you want me to believe you're a vampire?" she asked, still looking annoyed.

"Well, yeah," Shawn said with a grin that exposed his fangs. "You still need convincing?" At Topanga's nod, he stretched his arm across the table, holding his hand out to her. "Feel my pulse."

Compliantly, she laid two fingers upon his wrist, only to pull back in alarm. Breathing heavily, she tensed and looked at him with wide eyes. "When did this happen?"

"Two nights ago," Shawn answered, his face darkening.

Cory wondered whether to mention Margaret, and remembered the errand he had sent Joey on. Did I do the right thing?

"Oh, Shawn," she comforted him, albeit nervously. "What did this?"

"My date," Shawn said simply. "She bit me."

"Oh God…" she said, understanding finally setting in. "So you, uh, drink blood?"

"No," Shawn said. "I refuse to, and it seems I can get by on this." He indicated the glass.

"Well, that's good," she said uncomfortably. "Who else knows about this?"

"It's just you and Cory, okay? Nobody else needs to know."

"What about your dad?" she pointed out. "Shawn, I know he'd want to hear about this."

"Look, I can't tell him. Can't we just leave it at that?"

"Shawn, we're your friends," Cory said. "Tell us what's wrong." Tell me, your best friend.

"…Okay," Shawn said finally. "Look, vampires in general don't want people to know about them. If I were to tell dad, I'd be putting him in danger."

"From Margaret?" asked Cory, beginning to worry about Joey.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Neither of you can tell anyone, okay? Promise you won't."

"We promise, Shawn," Cory said easily. Topanga, however, stayed quiet. "Don't we, honey?"

"I don't know, Shawn," she said, "This Margaret person sounds dangerous; we should get help."

"Help from who?" Shawn asked, sounding annoyed. "Who could help us with something like this?"

"What about your relatives?" she asked. "You're always getting help from them."

"No," Shawn shook his head. "Not even Uncle Jeffrey could handle something like this, and he has two life-sentences."

"Topanga," Cory began, "I don't think you're quite grasping the severity of the situation. Shawn has become an undead creature of ze night," he said in a bad Transylvanian accent.

Shawn rolled his eyes.

"My point," Topanga sighed, "Is that this is a little larger than the three of us are equipped to handle. We need help."

Shawn shook his head. "There is no help."

"Ooh, hold on," Cory interjected. He reached into his backpack and dug out an old hardbound book, on which was written in a flowing script: Legends of the Undead. "Maybe this could help?" He set it on the table.

"Cory, where'd you get this?" Topanga asked, while Shawn glanced at it with his usual lack of interest toward anything literary. She pulled it across the table and ruffled through it.

"From Feeny," he answered.

Shawn looked at him warily. "Cory, what did you tell him?"

"Nothing," he insisted. "I told him nothing. What, you think he'd believe something like this? No, I just… you know, said I had an interest in vampires… and he gave me a book."

"That's all you told him?" Shawn's face begged not to be betrayed.

"That's all," he stated, swiping his hand through the air to emphasize his words.

"Thank you, Cor," Shawn whispered. He carefully placed his hand on Cory's shoulder, exactly the place where he had lost control, and squeezed very gently. "I don't know how I could exist without you…"

Cory reached his hand up to his shoulder, brushing against Shawn's hand. "Hey, best friends, remember…" he muttered, looking at Shawn with a small smile.

"So…" They turned to see Topanga looking up at them from the book with a pointed expression. "…Do you two want to be left alone?" she finished, raising an eyebrow.

It took a beat for them to understand what she meant. When they did, they quickly snatched their hands away, and scooted a bit away from each other on the booth.

"No, we're good," Shawn said sheepishly. "So, anything useful in there?"

Cory was thankful for the subject change as his girlfriend turned back to the book. "Well," she sighed, "There certainly is a hefty vampire section… I don't know if there's anything related…" She shifted through the pages. "I suppose we should first identify what kind of vampire Shawn is. Shawn, do… you eat flesh or just blood?"

"Just blood," Shawn answered immediately. He soon backtracked, "Well, I mean, I don't. But, there is the, uh, urge. No, I drink this." He raised his Cola and took a big sip.

"We can rule out Australian, then," Topanga mused to herself. "Can you separate your head from your body and fly about the countryside?"

Shawn just stared at her, incredulous.

"Not Japanese," she nodded, turning back.

"Hey, Topanga, couldn't he be Romanian?" Cory suggested, remembering something Feeny said earlier. "After all, that's where Dracula came from and all…"

"Let me look," she said, flipping through the book. "Okay, yeah, this looks good. Shawn, you have no reflection, right?"

"Right," he agreed with a note of sadness.

"Can you cross bodies of water?"

"We live in Philadelphia," Shawn pointed out. "Not much opportunity for that."

"Enter a house without the permission of an inhabitant?"

This made Shawn pause, and Cory remembered how he had waited outside the window last night until he got an express invitation.

"I'm…" Shawn grimaced. "…Not quite sure on that. But, no, I don't think so."

Topanga nodded. "Yeah, Romanian seems about right… Oh!" She closed the book. "…I'll try and look over it tonight, see if I see anything." She scooped the book up to her chest and, rising from the table, backed away toward the stairs.

"You're leaving?" Cory asked, confused. Beside him, Shawn simply followed her with his eyes.

"I've just got a lot of homework to catch up on," she babbled, continuing to back away. "I'll… see you guys later. Cory, you… look after Shawn." She hurried away.

"What was that all about?" Cory wondered aloud.

Shawn sighed, downing the rest of his soda in one gulp. "I'm sure she just read about our delightful hunter instincts. We're quite the murderous lot."

"Shawn, I know you're not a blood-sucker," Cory reassured him. "I'll talk to Topanga. She shouldn't act like that."

"Not her fault, Cor," Shawn muttered, almost too soft to be heard. "She should be scared…"

"Shawn, you're not a monster," Cory insisted. "You can resist. You just need some positive thinking." He waved his hand in the air, "Hey, Chubbie! Really, really rare steak for Foxy!"

"Hey, Chubbie!" Shawn called, standing up. "No! No steak necessary." He looked down at Cory, "Thanks for the thought, but I'm on a 'liquid diet.'" He rattled the ice cubes in his glass.

"More Cola, then?" Cory offered.

"No, that's not… It's getting late," Shawn changed the subject. "We should be getting back before your mom starts to worry about you."

"Since when do you care about my mom?" Cory smiled, knowing Shawn was just covering his own concern.

"I don't," he denied. "It's just… Now we know there are things to be scared of."

Cory swallowed. "Uh, yeah, but, are you still gonna stay in my room? Eric's gonna be home tonight."

Shawn paused. "I'll think of something. Just leave the window open."

"Hey, Foxy," Chubbie called as they were on their way out. "Your father called last night, said he's looking for ya."

"If he calls again, tell him I don't want to be found," Shawn called without turning around. "C'mon Cory…"

They emerged into twilight. Shawn blinked a bit, but refrained from putting his sunglasses back on. "Everything looks weird," he muttered. "Would prefer it darker."

They started walking. It was a normal route, but it was hard to feel at peace when Shawn was acting so edgy. He would pause every so often, and just stand there breathing. Cory wondered if Shawn needed to focus on breathing. Maybe this was his way of trying to capture a feeling of normalcy?

"Cory," Shawn whispered one such time, "I… think you should go on without me."

"What?" he asked, smiling like it was a joke. "What's the problem?"

"No problem," Shawn insisted, taking in a deep breath. "I just… really think you should go on your own."

"C'mon, Shawn," he sighed. "I know you're not a killer. You don't have to–" His sentence was sharply interrupted as Shawn immediately closed the distance between them and placed a finger against his lips.

"Cory," Shawn spoke intently, "I promise I'll meet you there, okay? But you need to go now. Please?"

"O…kay," Cory agreed. "I guess I'll see you."

"Later," Shawn nodded, his mind elsewhere.

Shawn watched as Cory ran off towards his house. He simply stood in place and waited. After a moment, he took another sniff. Sure enough, that sweet smell hadn't vanished with Cory.

"I know you're there," he said to the air, "Margaret."

Behind him, he heard a soft thud and turned to see his newest girlfriend. Unlike him, she had mastered her incredible speed and so moved forward with a silent grace, her long black hair trailing behind her.

"Who said I was hiding?" she asked with a small smile. She nodded in the direction Cory left, "Your pet?"

Shawn felt his hands clench into fists. "Stay away from him," he nearly growled.

Margaret's eyebrows went up, but she said nothing more on the subject. "I know what you're going through," she said instead. "You don't know how you should live. You feel torn between two worlds…"

"Shut up!" This time, he literally growled the words. "I'm sick of people trying to… You… you made me into a…" he broke off and turned his head to the side. Were he human, tears would have begun to flow from his eyes.

"Shawn," she began, but he cut her off.

"No, just leave me alone!" Leave us alone. He turned and leapt up onto the nearest rooftop, proceeding to put as much distance between them as he could without leaving the city. He needn't have bothered, for she never followed.