The night was calm, warmer. A thin sweater with a beige bear printed on a light blue background was enough to keep the body warm.

"Not hungry? Laura? Laura?" Perry called unsuccessfully.

"Look, it's Carmilla there!!!" Said LaF next to the blonde on the kitchen bench.

"Where?!" The journalist supported her hands on the table. "Wait, what was that?" Asked, massaging the almost deaf ear.

Perry and LaF laughed at the blonde's lack of attention, lost in thoughts about a girl than in the carrot soup on the plate - because food always was the greater interest for the girl.

"Who is that one?" Asked Danny, turning a plate of soup in front of the biologist at the table.

"It is the girl that the young Guto spoke the other day, Laura found her," Perry filled the woodcutter's plate in the fifth round.

"Yeah, they are in love with this girl, Guto keeps talking about her, and Laura keeps thinking about her," said LaF while take another spoonful. "Hey was she earlier in the store? Oh, it must have been her, look how she's not even paying attention, and she's kind of red."

"Laura, Laura?" The woodcutter failed to get the Galician's attention.

The innkeeper took care of her grandmother upstairs in the company of doctor LaF. Danny had spent a few more hours in the kitchen helping Laura with the dishes.

"Leave it, Danny," Said Laura, trying to reach the sink.

"No way, the water is too cold for hands like yours," Said Danny defending the sink as a basketball player.

"I'm not afraid of cold water," Insisted trying to pull the Amazon from the sink.

"Back off, you never win," Laughed Danny. Smaller and weaker. There was no way.

After the usual game at the sink, Danny accompanied Laura into the bedroom, stopping for a last conversation on the doorstep.

"So... see you tomorrow?" The questions were obvious, but the woodcutter enjoy hearing her friend.

"Of course," Said in response, but...

"Anything wrong, Laura?" Danny found the answer doubtful itself.

"No, nothing. Why?" Asked the blonde.

"Because usually, you respond with a smile and a poor joke," Reminded Danny.

"Poor joke? You think my jokes are bad?" How she dare insult her great jokes?!

"It wasn't what I meant, but you seem lost, or scattered. You didn't even eat. What wrong, Laura?" She held the journalist's arms. "You can tell me anything, what's the matter?" Their hands met, and the blonde opened the door behind her, taking two steps back.

"Nothing Danny, just some thoughts. It seems like a déjà vu. And Guto said," The Galician stared at the forest behind the redhead.

"Don't you tell me it's about Carmilla? Laura, nothing he says makes sense, nor do I believe it's true, otherwise we would remember, makes little sense just for him to remember, I bet this Carmilla must have been a little friend of his years ago," Said the owner of the mathematical logic of memory .

"You're right, but..."

"Go to sleep, rest your little head," The woodcutter was putting a lock behind Laura's ear. "Good night," Danny said goodbye with a kiss on the blonde's cheek.

"Good night Danny, see you tomorrow watch out for the bigfoot on the way back," Laughed closing the door with an effort to appear normal in the flow of a poor joke. Laura leaned her back on the inside of the door, slipping until sit on the floor. "Carmilla... who are you?"

Every day was like that:

With her father out of town, work decrease, and it wasn't even much on ordinary days, but Sherman Hollis insisted that the store only function with him there. His daughter, skilled with some needles and thread, only sewed - for her prank - if it depended on her father, the girl would live in a bubble.

She learned to be distracted by occupying the mind of the most diverse texts, several of them addressed to the world hubs, referring to the state of the world, the English Prime Minister Winston Churchill, the American President Roosevelt and, even Hitler, but these directed to the Fuhrer never reached the recipient.

After her work as an unofficial member of the League of Nations, Laura took care of the family business, fabrics and sewing, which cloth fit better, which linen or stitch held up tension. And of all the chores she liked most was to write, it was not aside from her nickname of unregistered journalist; she loved to discover a new foxhole, or a cave, mansions and remains of castles from the previous century - it was always a secret - not even Danny or her father knew about the walks - dye her hair with grease was one of the most used tricks to get out.

The morning walks were also great, but without a doubt those at nighttime were her favorite. In the moonlight, the clouds projected from her breath, the cold air filling her lungs, the humidity of the air, the muscles and the sweating pumping blood pulsating from adventures. She remembered her father's lines:

"My child, I told you to wait for me, I pick you up in the morning," he said worriedly, sure that anything could happen if he didn't take care of his daughter.

"Come on, dad, what are you afraid of? You think a bear will eat me?" The blonde laughed at the tailoring counter.

In the same week, Mr. Hollis brought a bag full of bear spray - he was a tough - but Laura understood. After all, she could also take a tower guarded by a dragon and a moat to keep him safe. Funny maybe, but Laura no longer remembered her mother's face, nor did her father talk about it, much pain probably, never married again - and it was not for lack of a party.

Her father at the time of the loss was still a handsome military owner of a great fortune and, by name, a lord, but became the biggest disgusting imbecile man, when some woman come after him, just to keep any stepmother away of his daughter. She did not blame him, as irritating as it was sometimes, yes or no to a new wife, new "mother", whatever the decision she would support, but she could understand his posture. The same missile hole in her chest had also opened a crater in her father's chest. This hole used to bother a lot, but over time, they learned together to leave it aside, without filling it, without trying, without denying it, just leaving it there in the corner, that's all.

Finally, after the monotonous days and the programmed laughter, Laura walked down the corridors to the showers downstairs, with the towel in her hands, the basket with the antibacterial soap and shampoo, the bunny robe made by herself, with rights the very long ears on the hood that put on six pounds of cuteness from the most silky towel for this type of clothing. She was always the last to shower, when everyone was asleep. She locked the bathroom door, went to the back shower, hung up her robe, and took the clothes out of her inner pockets.

Dark blue jeans, shirt in the same tone, a woolen blouse with a high collar and a zipper on the front, the patched gray cloak, a matching hat, and the jar of grease next to a comb. Minutes later, the false brunette was coming out of the small bathroom window against the mountain, crouched down and watched the surroundings without the sign of any person. Waited for the light in Perry's room to turn off and, running behind the small barn, ran from him to the forest hiding behind a tree. She checked to see if anyone had noticed it; nobody, so he ran to the road, where she went down happily to the city with the full moon kissing her face.

She stopped in an alley next to Punkt, looking at the metal staircase on the side, that girl. What was that earlier, that sensation, was so fast and her body was screaming through those arms, everything seemed to fit together, except her not remembering anything, nothing that Guto said, there was no sense, how would he say something like that?

Then, she appeared, falling down the stairs, then at the bedroom door, last at the tailoring shop behind the counter. Her eyes were full of desire, her chest was pumping something more than blood, and her mouth was so close. If it wasn't for LaF, who knows what could have happened, but she was thinking over letting herself go.

Who knows, maybe?

Finally she was facing the door to Carmilla's room, knocked four times, no answer, eight, twelve, nothing to open the door.

"Is she at the bar?" Hurried down the stairs, she dodged Kirsch by going up drunk with a girl even more drunk than him. Laura inspected the girl, making sure that wasn't Carmilla, Kirsch, drunk and distracted, didn't even notice the brunette in the gray cloak, even invited her to join them.

Ignoring the invitation, Laura entered the bar; being her size was great on those outings, as almost nobody noticed her. The drunks and sober men were fighting for arm wrestling, guess who was one contestant at the central table, the feisty Carmilla won one by one, nobody was a match for the girl's supernatural strength. She seemed to notice Laura, as she looked directly at her, but Laura hid behind a large man.

"Now she it's me girl!" Danny said, turning the back of the chair to the table when challenging the brunette.

"Danny?" Asked Laura, pushing the drunks, disbelieving the woodcutter there.

"Let's see then, how much will the bet be?" Laugh Carmilla crossing her feet on the table. "There is not enough to compete with me," She smiled and Laura shake with that smile.

"Yeah, you already smoothed everyone out here, so why don't you try that? Bet everything, I bet everything I have, and if you win, win at once," The woodcutter smiled with an unashamed gleam in her eyes. "Are you afraid?" Everyone helped by increasing the provocation. Of course, the brunette would not refuse the challenge.

"Do your worst, Diana!" Hit the elbow on the table.

"It's Danny, you won't forget that," The woodcutter tapped her elbow on the table, grabbing the opponent's hand.

"Ready?"

"When you want, redhead," Carmilla smiled.

"HELP!!!" Someone shouted outside the joint. At the same second Danny won the vampire's hand, distracted by Laura's heart.

"Hurry!" Exclaimed the police commander picking up his hat from the counter. The three men in green uniforms ran out in search of panic outside.

"The train! The train!" They shouted, the guards on the motorbikes behind the fire engine skidding on the road.

The crowd of onlookers ran into the light behind the forest, Danny pocketed the profits in her backpack, before running to the lumberjack truck with Kirsch.

"Let's go Broo!!!" He said excitedly, turning the key.

"What is happening?!" Asked Danny.

Well, Carmilla was the goal of that escape, nothing was more exciting than a messy night that, a probable scoop. The blonde's curiosity dragged her out, following the crowd.

Laura slipped down the side of the truck, her face covered by the scarf, and when the engine started, she jumped into the bucket, a hole made her jump, but her foot slipped from the bumper, the speed increased, her fingers even slipped with the gloves. Danny couldn't hear her screaming, and it wouldn't be good for the woodcutter to know about her escape. She forced her hands tightly, but they slipped, another jump, she released one hand.

"Damn it, now it's the curve," She said to herself, there being the end to a good fall. "Oh damn it, that's it," She almost yelled.

When she felt her fingers drop from the truck, something grabbed her loose hand. Laura looked, it was Carmilla, but how? Her fingers betrayed her. The brunette leaned on the waist at the end and grabbed the other hand of the blonde, pulling awkwardly.

"I got you," Laura barely listened, terrified, just clung to the brunette inside the bucket. The road was smooth, without sharp curves, at least for now. "Slowly, one leg at a time," The blonde obeyed, while her waist moved kept her wrapped in the other's arms. Great, no sharp turns, but not without the holes to make Danny and Kirsch's head hit the ceiling and catapult the journalist over the vampire.

The fit of her mouths was perfect, were it not for the scarf in the front. For exactly five seconds they maintained accidental contact, until Laura cut the connection, but she found herself trapped by the arms around her waist.

"This pile of firewood is not so high, if you get up they will see us, so will be better, if we stay like these," Carmilla whispered in the blonde's ear. That was crazy, but something in the body, in the eyes, in the hug, in the breath and, even in the brunette's voice, made everything more insane and calm at the same time.

The journalist surrendered, relaxing her body by moving to the side.

"They will see us," Warned to the journalist.

"I will not get up, just relieve you of the weight," Said the blonde getting rid of the nice warm, but inconvenient hug. The vampire leaned against the pile of wood and called Laura with her index finger.

"You'll slip out there," She said, Laura could not deny, because another bump almost sent her throwing in the side.

"What are you doing here?" Asked Laura, laying her head on the vampire's shoulder.

"Wow, you're welcome," Said the brunette laughing.

"Quiet," Laura nudged her below the ribs. "Thanks for saving me, but now what are you doing here?"

"I came to get my money back, that was cheating, you distracted me," Carmilla gasped. "and you? What do you do here?"

"What? We don't even know each other,"

"Seriously, Cupcake? Are you going to throw that greasy hair at me and hope I believe your name is Petunia Dursley?" She laughed.

"Who is this?" She asked curiously.

The truck slowed down, ending the conversation that certainly reached the ears of the drivers.

"Crap," Carmilla noticed the unscheduled stop, because the other vehicles were moving at high speed, passing them. Laura only had time to notice the snow on the side of the road and the trees nearby. The truck stopped a few meters ahead with Danny and Kirsch checking the bucket. "Get ready to get a ride back as soon as they turn around."

"Yes," She replied behind the brunette. And noticed the sword tied to her back, the handle drawn from what looked like bat wings. The sheath worked to the end near the left hand holding her hand with. Before she could speak, she was being pulled towards the truck.

"You go first, I push you," Carmilla was pulling Laura forward.

Laura couldn't say how she jumped like that, but she was already inside. The engine started, she reached out and pulled Carmilla up; they were lying on firewood.

"Laura Hollster," She introduced herself by lowering the scarf with her index finger.

"Carmilla Skandratt," The brunette replied, returning the look with a cute smile.

The journalist blushed and ended up smiling back and realized that they were still holding hands.