With a desperate hand, Liz tried to reach the off switch on her radio alarm, while contemplating how to get revenge on her roommate for turning it up so loud. How Jessica had managed it from two hundred miles away at her parents' place, Liz had no idea, but it had to have been her. It was deafening.

Finally she found the button and was rewarded with blessed silence.

She flopped back onto the bed and refused to open her eyes for a while.

Liz was not a morning person.

Lying there with the duvet pulled up to her chin and only her arm and head poking out, she considered going back to sleep. It was Monday, but she didn't have to work until the evening. She'd promised to meet her best friend Nin for lunch, but she was sure she could fit in the shopping, cleaning up from the party the night before, and applying for the new job at the literary agency before then.

She was just slipping into a light doze when the radio blared again: she'd only managed to hit snooze.

This time the whole alarm clock slipped off the bedside table as she frantically tried to shut it up. It went thankfully quiet, but by that time she was hanging half off the side of the bed. Jessica was going to die when she got home and Liz had figured out how the prank had been pulled.

"Bollocks," she said to the empty room and pulled her dopey body into an upright position.

That was when she noticed the ache in her neck.

"Stupid pillow," she muttered to herself and made another mental note to buy a new one.

It was still dark outside as she padded her way to the bathroom. No one should have to get up when it was dark outside in her very well thought out opinion.

Luckily she knew her way around the bathroom virtually with her eyes closed, because she could rarely be bothered to open them far in the mornings. She did turn on the main light, but instantly turned it off again because it offended her vision. Instead she pulled the cord on the small light above the sink, which was a much more manageable dim yellow.

Then she went through the motions of her morning routine, staring blankly into the mirror for most of it as her brain ticked over at minimum revs. She might as well have kept her eyes shut for all she saw.

The brush point blank refused to go through her hair, so she grabbed a hair tie and pulled it back instead.

The only real thought going through her head was for the coffee maker. Those little pods were calling her name. She needed caffeine.

Making the decision to shower after she had cleaned the flat, she pulled on some old sweats and headed for the kitchen. It had been a wild party and she smiled as she remembered bits of it. Of course the living room was trashed. There were also three people sleeping in it.

Liz stepped over the prone bodies, not even bothering to ascertain which of her friends had passed out on the floor; she would deal with them later. Coffee was her only desire.

Someone had left the light above the hob on, so she went straight for the cupboard that held the caffeinated goodness. It was not the one that had the instant coffee, the tea or the cheapo pods she had accidentally bought that one time. In fact, to anyone opening it normally, it would look like it contained pasta and tins. Liz was no fool, she knew how to hide her caffeine stash.

Just the dark smell of coffee helped to bring her brain online more. She had the water reservoir filled, the pod in the machine and the mug under it in record time. Then with glee she pushed the on button and waited. It took a while to warm up, but then came the familiar noise of water being forced through coffee grounds, filling the kitchen with sound and the most wonderful aroma.

She heard groans from the living room.

As she took her first glorious sip of deep black heaven a memory flashed through her sleepy mind. It was something to do with drinking as well, but it skittered away under the bliss of a double espresso.

Liz drank the whole mug in under a minute. Then she popped another pod in the machine, changed the settings and set it going again. She would savour the second one and maybe have some toast too.

"Is that coffee?" she heard from behind her.

"Touch my mug and you die," she said without bothering to turn around.

"Wow, you're just a bundle of joy in the mornings, aren't you?"

She turned to find Pete standing in the doorway. He looked rumpled and barely awake.

"How long have you known me?" she asked.

"I refuse to say on account of you hurting me," Pete said.

It had been Liz's birthday the day before, hence the party, and she had refused to let anyone mention her age. There had been forfeits and everything.

"Didn't expect to see you before noon," Pete said, changing the subject. "Especially with the fine specimen you were sucking face with last night."

Liz frowned.

"What?"

"Don't tell me you were so caffeine deprived this morning that you left him buried under the duvet," Pete said with a laugh.

Liz tried to think. A vague memory filtered into her head, but it was very hazy. She didn't think she'd drunk that much the night before.

"Liz?" Pete asked, smile dimming somewhat.

"I woke up alone," she said, desperately trying to remember what had happened the previous night.

"You let him get away?" Pete sounded scandalized. "He was so pretty, and wow, those eyes. I told you, you should have let me have him instead."

At the mention of eyes Liz's brain decided to use the caffeine she had already fed it and there was nothing vague about the new memory. Piercing blue eyes she definitely remembered; they had almost glowed.

"Coffee," she said, making grabby hands towards her mug.

Pete dutifully handed it to her. She took a large swig.

Slowly a face began to resolve in her head, an absolutely gorgeous face with a heart stopping smile.

"Oh boy," she said, "dammit, I should have chained him to the bed."

More things began to come back to her now and she smiled behind her coffee cup. Whoever had brought mystery man to the party had definitely brought her an extra birthday present. She had been too fast in blaming her pillow for the ache in her neck, because he'd been pretty obsessed with it. That was probably why she'd slept in an odd position.

"You should have shared, is what you should have done," Pete complained and grabbed the kettle to fill it with water.

"Not every man is gay, Pete," Liz pointed out.

"Yeah, well I was doing perfectly well until you made your second grand entrance," Pete complained. "I'll give you this one, but only because you were the birthday girl."

Liz took another sip of her coffee, rubbing her neck absently as she mused over the previous night's activities. She wasn't usually into one night stands, but mystery man had made every cell in her body light up like a firework display. How she had forgotten that, even temporarily, was beyond her.

"Do you know who brought him to the party?" she asked as she tried to recall everything she could.

Pete shook his head.

"I didn't see him come in."

"Dammit, I'm going to have to go through everyone to track him down."

"Not if I get there first," Pete said with a very much not innocent smile.

"He's my birthday present," Liz protested.

"It's not your birthday anymore," Pete replied.

"Why are we friends again?" Liz said and drank some more coffee.

"Because you love me," Pete said and pulled a mug and the tea bags out of the cupboard.

Liz narrowed her eyes, but that just made Pete smiled even more, so she gave up. She was hungry, and after the physical exertion she was now starting to remember more and more clearly, she deserved breakfast. Grabbing the bread from the back of the sideboard she walked over to the shiny new toaster Jessica had bought after destroying the last one with an ill-advised experiment involving a hotdog and two plastic forks. The new one was gleaming chrome and took four slices; it had been in the sale of something.

"Toast?" Liz asked as she popped in two slices for herself.

"Thanks," Pete replied with a nod.

The caffeine in her system was beginning to work, but, after putting in two more slices for Pete, Liz still stood there staring at the toaster waiting for it to pop up, rather than doing anything else. It was as she did that she began to realise something rather odd.

She could see Pete pottering around making his tea and she could see the rest of the kitchen in the shiny surface, but there was something missing from the cosy scene. Reaching out she touched the metal side, just to check it wasn't some weird optical illusion. Her fingers were right there, lightly resting on the side of the toaster, but, reflected back at her in the shiny chrome there was nothing.

"Pete," she said, not trusting her early morning brain, "come here."

"What?" Pete asked, only looking over as he poured water into his mug.

"Come here," she repeated.

With a long suffering sigh he put down the kettle and came over.

"What do you see?" she asked.

Pete frowned.

"It's too early for this shit," he said, shaking his head.

"Look at the toaster," she instructed, ignoring his protests.

Rolling his eyes, Pete did as he was told. It took a few seconds, but then the frown deepened and Pete leaned closer.

"How the hell?"

Liz's hand went to the side of her neck again.

"That's clever," Pete said, turning to her, "now how did you get Jessica to set that up."

Jessica was an engineer and a number one prankster. Liz didn't blame Pete for asking at all.

"Not a trick," she said.

"Very funny," Pete said and snorted a laugh, "so you don't have a reflection."

She nodded.

"Jokes over, Liz, I'm not falling for it."

"Still not a joke," Liz replied and pulled open the drawer.

She grabbed the large spoon that was reserved for special occasions and held it up next to her face. Pete started at it.

"You ... you ..."

"Really don't have a reflection," Liz said.

Pete didn't wait for permission, he pushed her head to one side and looked at her neck.

"Oh my god," he said and she winced, not sure why, "you have a scar."

"What kind of scar?"

"Go look in the mirror..."

Liz just gave him a look for that.

"Sorry," Pete apologised. "Two neat little round marks, about an inch apart."

Liz had many weaknesses, but failing to accept the reality of a situation that was staring her in the face was not one of them.

"I'm a vampire," she said. "Mystery man was a vampire and now so am I."

It was the only logical explanation.

"You're not thirsty are you?" Pete asked and Liz rolled her eyes.