There was an awful taste in her mouth, and Tara jumped up, realizing she'd passed out right on her papers. And she'd drooled on them. Great. Hopefully knowing the information would be enough, because she wasn't bringing the messed-up folder with now. Before she jumped into the shower, Tara yanked the last sheet in with her, dropping her clothes like a desperate stripper as she saw that she'd woken up ten minutes late.

Preparations.

1: Wash yourself in the morning.

Vampires have sensitive senses of smell and don't like strong odors. They can pick up other people's scents mixed with yours if you're mated.

Mated? They didn't even talk the same, wonderful. She was so going to say something wrong. Ignoring that, Tara did as she was told, scrubbing her skin raw and using a conservative amount of shampoo and body soap, making sure to wash it all off.

2: Don't wear your hair up, and cover your neck.

Directing attention to your throat can be distracting to the process of calmly interviewing with guests.

Got it. Don't look like a beverage. At work, she normally tied her hair up into a spikey half-bun half-ponytail, and she wasn't sure how she felt about having it hanging all over her shoulders. It was better than getting eaten, so she compromised by clipping it up behind her ears and fluffing it forward around the side of her neck. It wasn't in her to wear a turtle neck, so a collared shirt would have to be enough.

For today, she chose deep navy, hopefully not stereotyping too hard on the dark and dreary aspect of vampires. After all, she'd been seen as a blond for so long that she didn't want to do that to them, but she didn't know how sharp their eyesight was. If she wore white, they'd likely be able to trace her bra line through it. Tara's face heated as she imagined one of them looking her over, and it wasn't out of fear. Were they as romantic as the stories or was this about to be some gruesome horror movie?

Shit.

3: Eat, sleep, and remain calm.

Hunger is easily perceived by our kind and will trigger our own. You should be fed, well rested, and composed. If your pulse jumps for any reason, it is a trigger for us to notice you first. We need them focused on their interactions.

Tara tried to eat, she did, but it all fell back out as her stomach clenched. It was going to have to be coffee, and even evil monsters must break for lunch. Perhaps after working with it for a few hours, she would calm enough to stomach something. As to the last, she could do calm. Keeping herself ice cold in situations was trained into her after years on the job, and she would be a pinnacle of reporting for her network.

Then maybe she could get real stories. If she lived.

Ready to go, Tara grabbed her small bag that she used when she wasn't hauling her laptop, slid on her dress coat–the one that wasn't a checkered mess of a hoody on the inside and darkness on the outside. It was a nice ash-grey to match her navy but not make her appear too land of darkness. Caught in her routine, she forgot to not use her perfume and cursed as her finger pressed down onto the nozzle and it sprayed the side of her neck.

Shit shit shit. In an instant, she dropped all of her things, stripped her clothes off and did her best to wash it off. It was something she'd done every day for ages, a light spray on each side of her neck, under her hair, and some on her wrists to draw in clients that she interviewed alone. Not to seduce them into bed, of course, but just to smell appealing. By the time she was done scrubbing her throat off, she had less than a minute to reassemble herself and jump back into the car.

And now she was late.

Driving like a madman, she only slowed when she neared the block for the complex as they called it. They had ten such outposts set up around the city today, all inside of a reinforced building, past human security, mage security, and then they would meet with her and her vampire. As Tara skipped up to the door, she dropped her hands on her knees and had to catch her breath before she went in. With her heart this elevated, she'd likely just be breakfast and they'd find another reporter. The man at the door took one look at her and laughed.

Fuck you too buddy.

"You must be Tara," he said, his dark eyes twinkling in the light. They looked like they were navy and she wondered if she was seeing things. It eerily matched what she assumed was hair dye. "Your partner isn't here yet, so you can go through security and calm yourself at your leisure. Please," the man ushered her in and she avoided flipping him off as she passed his amused smile by.

The security was normal enough–just a bag check, metal detector, and seven hundred ghosts. Okay, maybe not that many, but specters roamed the halls willy-nilly and trailed just about everyone in the complex. All of these people had lost someone who refused to move on, and it ground into Tara just how grave the fight between vampires and mages had been. Avoiding eye contact with any ghosts, she made her way to a single woman who waited to welcome her.

The mage woman sat on a chair in a room empty of anything else but the seat opposite, which the woman ushered for Tara to take. The lady had super kind brown eyes, like a grade school teacher consoling children who'd left their parents for the first time sympathetic. Following her direction, Tara sat and the woman shuffled her legs over the other and pulled a piece of her brown hair back behind her ear. She had her hair up.

"I'm used to vampires staring at my neck," she said immediately, and Tara chewed on her lip. Maybe she'd glared. "If you aren't comfortable with that, it has a higher risk of raising your heart rate. We just ask your hair be down as a precaution."

"I'm sorry," Tara said with a sigh.

"If you're more comfortable with your hair up, that's fine." The woman smiled, and Tara let out a slow sigh. This lady seemed really nice, unlike her boss. "I'm here to give you a quick few notes and make sure you understand the process."

"Shoot," Tara said, and the woman chuckled, adjusting her glasses. With casual work clothes, a nice pair of navy dress pants and a white blouse, this woman looked so comfortable.

While the girl pulled out a paper list of things to say, Tara couldn't help but wrap her hair up into her normal ponytail before rolling it into a loose bun and pulling hair through to spike it. Tara has done it so many times, she didn't need a mirror. It did make Tara feel more at home and relax her to all of this.

"I can see you're worried, and I understand," the woman said. "The idea of vampires is frightening at best when you write it down on paper. They do drink blood, but they don't go up in flames under sunlight, so don't worry about that. We don't have windows in the meeting rooms anyway for security anyway. That being said, we only chose vampires who have expert control of their reflexes and urges, the kind that could lean over you if you were bleeding and help you over losing their composure and drinking you instead."

"Got it," Tara said shakily. "Not alcoholics."

The woman tittered, and Tara wondered if she'd ever been that dainty. "Yes. Also, the vampire house we are working with is known as the Fleurs. Vampires in a house all share a last name and normally a disposition. The Fleurs have long strived to integrate their people with humans, and as such, they are used to our concerns and misunderstandings. They are very mild, so you needn't worry about anyone getting angry with you. They are more likely to retreat from you and give you space if they are worried about the way you are acting."

"Well that's a bit of a relief," Tara had to admit. At least she wouldn't be chopped liver.

"Not all vampires are like that, which is why the Fleurs are heading the human-vampire relations. Just like humans, some vampires are good-hearted and others scum. The ones that are working with society are all highly intelligent and from well-reputed families who won't harm you, but not all of them know human etiquette as well as others. If they cross any boundaries, just politely let them know. They won't be doing it on purpose."

"I understand that," Tara said. "I know a lot about working with people from different countries, so I can just consider them like foreign representatives. It shouldn't be a problem."

"At its core, it seems that easy, but there is a reason we chose human delegates who are used to putting on a face. I know you might not have been willing to take this job, but we will make it as pleasant as possible. I don't know Jesse personally–the man you are working with today–but I've been told he is on the quieter side.

"Even so, any vampire will get frustrated if you treat them like a pariah. They are people, were human at one time, and they have feelings just like you. Everyone is a bit uncomfortable, but we just ask that you have an open mind and remain calm. Can you handle that?"

"I can," Tara said with a smile, but her expression dipped. She'd spent all night and morning thinking about how they were blood-sucking monsters, and this woman made her feel guilty. It was a good thing that this door guard was here or she might have gone in with the wrong attitude.

They were just people.

The woman said it like she'd expected her to think otherwise, and she hadn't been wrong. It also hadn't crossed Tara's mind that this man might be an uncomfortable as she was. All she'd thought was that he'd be some haughty, human-eating, thing. Being petted and interrogated all day was certainly less pleasant than her sitting next to him and being calm.

"I'm glad you understand," the woman said with her serene smile, hopping up and directing her forward through the hall ahead. "It's essential that this is facilitated by humans who are also learning so that those who see us don't think we're tainting anything with our own agendas. We chose well-known news stations, some big and others small, but all who were reputed for objective reporting."

"I gathered that," Tara kept up the pleasant conversation as they arrived in the small room.

It was quaint with a two tiered desk set off to the back and no windows, as the woman had said. The left half was up about a foot higher than the right, and both had chairs of varying heights to accommodate. The area in front gave about ten feet between the door and the chairs so people who came in could hesitantly approach, and whoever was seated at the desk would have their backs only a few feet from the wall. There was a door at the entrance and to the right out the back. Save the black desk, it was all very white.

"I have to leave, but Jesse should be here in a few minutes," the woman said, heading over to the back door and turning on a light. "Back here are clipboards, pens, sign-in sheets, and surveys. Also facilities for the bathroom, break room, and such. Feel free to explore at your leisure at lunch time, but if you could bring out the supplies beforehand, that would be best. Sign in at the start, survey to take when they leave. Be strict on the five minutes with two in between people."

"I got it," Tara said as she calmed to the familiar room of office supplies. It was just like her desk at work, cluttered with neatly arranged things but one sneeze away from being a disaster zone. The smell of ink from a laser printer wafted to her nose as she approached, and she fingered the surveys.

When Tara turned around the woman was gone, and she groaned. Damn she was fast. Well, time to get started. She grabbed the clip board with the sign in and a cup graciously stuffed with pens. It didn't take more than five minutes in any office to learn that interactions with anyone ate pens. Goblins, pen-eating goblins.

She looked at the stack of surveys and considered if she could fit them on top. Well, if they had a person in every five minutes with two minute intervals between, that meant seven minutes a person, which ended up about eight people an hour. These packets were fat and fifty or so of them added some volume, but she hated taking two trips. Tossing them on, she had to balance the cup of pens on top and lean it into the crook of her chest as she headed out.

Walking was all okay until she stepped over the threshold, realized it was an inch higher, and stubbed her toe before stumbling. Ice touched her hands and steadied her before she threw everything on the floor, and Tara lifted her gaze to pair of light blue eyes that put her own to shame.

Word Count: 2304