I do not own Van Helsing nor H.I.M, or the lyrics of "Its All Tears(Drown In This Love)".But I do own Shirra.

Karen Mouskeri was dead.

It was like a stake to Shirra's heart-not that it would kill her of course, but it hurt. Greatly.

Despite being a vampire, Shirra had emotions-and knew love.

She had returned to the Mouskeri residence and to her mother's side for a fortnight, watching her fight the scarlet fever burning her up. Mother had fought-oh how she had fought! But she died, nevertheless.

A few cruel servants suggested it was Shirra who had caused Karen to take a turn for the worse. She had shot them a death glare that shut them up at once.

She attended the funeral. It was a grand affair, what with roses and candles all around musicians playing Vivaldi's tunes-both ladies' favorite composer. She waited till all had left-and placed a white rose on the altar. With fascination as her father wept for her mother:-his life, part of his world...

She never knew men could cry-and she was never one to cry much really. Fo the first time in years, she no longer feared her father-and saw him for what he was: a man.

She held his hand until he had cried his fill.15 year old Matthais-so much like Father yet so much too like her-had wept along with his father. She simply held them, numb-not not hollow and void of emotions. Both men said to Hell with their stiff upper lips-and released their grief and pain.

As for Shirra...it would come-sooner or later.

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Shirra returned to Castle Dracula, stiff and somber. Of all the people she loved in her (after)life, she had loved her Mother the most. Now the only human she truly loved...was gone. Dracula had to look at her face to know that her mother was dead. He had stayed behind, thinking it best not to go. As much as it sounded cruel, he thought the pain and grief she had just experienced made her even lovelier.

"She is gone..."

Vladislaus held her as the dam broke and she wept into his shoulder. She was so full of emotions he had not experienced nor understood in over 400 years. Yet he did not envy her feeling the pain in her heart now. Funnily enough, both now had one more thing in common: Both had lost their mothers( See "The Earring" for more details).

I'm waiting for you to drown in

my love

So open your arms

I'm waiting for you to open your arms

And drown in this love

I'm waiting for you to drown in my love

So open your arms

I'm waiting for you to open your arms

And drown in this love

Placing her in a coffin and watched over her all night. Had he not promised her when she was a child that he would watch over her?

So many emotions, so many mysteries..all locked up in those ochre-Midnight pools, shielded by her eyelids now.

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Dracula-

I awoke to find her not in her casket. I had dozed off watching over her. Then I hear running water-she was probably taking a bath. The bathroom door swung open with the smell of soap and hot water-revealing her in a black silk bathrobe, her hair let down, resembling a black-brown veil. Her eyes were unreadable. We made eye contact. Then, it was broken before it could be registered. She left for her chambers. I notice there and then that the robe's clasp has fallen apart, revealing more than her never ending legs...

I watch her for a while-then I follow her in.

I grab her wrist, scaring her a little with my possessive grip. I regret that. Her robe slides to her shoulders, revealing her fair breasts, a screaming contrast to her dark hair partially shielding them from my eyes.

"Vladislaus..."

Open your arms and let me show you what love can be like

It's all tears and it will be 'til the end of your time

Come closer my love

Will you let me tear your hearth apart?

Now all hope is gone so drown in this love

I'm waiting for you to drown in my love

So open your arms

I'm waiting for you to open your arms

And drown in this love

I'm waiting for you to drown in my love

So open your arms

I'm waiting for you to open your arms

And drown in this love

I push her against the wall and wrap her legs round me before kissing her passionately. Her robe slides to the floor, forgotten as I break the skin of her lower lip-and suckle greedily at her blood.

She entwines her fingers round my hair and pulls me closer. I nuzzle her lily-white neck, leaving a scarlet trail (from her lips) down that creamy channel. And her shoulder...I bite down HARD with a growl, growling even louder as she unbuckles my pants, her fingers brushing past my organ.

Her other hand becomes claws –and she tears my shirt to shreds with one swipe. I hear her moans as I drink both marrow and blood from her shoulder. I must admit how sweet marrow is-but nothing can ever come close to that tangy, scarlet sustenance that flows through my love's veins. I then move on, to orally worship her soft, beautiful bosoms, nibbling and teasing the mounds of flesh. I revel in her whimpers.

She proceeds to bite my now-bare shoulder with equal intensity. I slide out of my pants the way a snake sheds his skin-and thrust in hard. I hear-and feel- her gasping, then crying out my name in estacsy. I smile, my head now in between those lovely bosoms.

So my love your laughter is finally turning into tears

And you're begging for more though the end is getting near

come closer my love

I'll violate you in the most sensual way... until you drown in this

Love

A long time ago, it was said some people made love after the death of a loved one to feel truly alive, to assure themselves Death had not taken them.

As I carry her to the bed, I ask if she feels better.

"In a way,"

she whispers.

Our lovemaking tonight was comparatively gentle compared to previous nights , but nevertheless, her grief has sapped much of her strength and our little lovemaking must have taken the cake, leaving her drained-both literally and figuratively- but happy. For now at least.

Before I pull the covers over us, she mouths,

"Thank you,"

before lying beside me, in my arms. I am not naïve. I know she will still mourn for some time. Grief cannot die that easily. But for now, I simply held my physically and emotionally drained fledgling as she refreshes herself with sleep-and enjoy the vestiges of our sex through memory.

I'm waiting for you to drown in my love

So open your arms

I'm waiting for you to open your arms

And drown in this love

I'm waiting for you to drown in my love

So open your arms

I'm waiting for you to open your arms

And drown in this love