"Yeah. You can borrow my laptop."

Millie provides Judy with a slightly elderly Acer.

"Thanks."

Hey Facebook - her parents - ?

Not on Facebook.

Aaaaaaaaaa.  . . . Her?  Her, Judy Jenkins?  Any of her friends from school?  College?  . . . Sara?  Her parents?  - Mark Zuckerberg.

No no no no no yes.

. . . She returns the laptop.  She - isn't crying, but -

"Do you want a hug?" Millie murmurs.

"Yes please."

Millie sits down next to her and leans over to give her a hug.

Hug.  "Thanks.

I - 'm probably just being dramatic.  But like.  I kind of thought I was going to save my world.  And now I'm not there anymore and - I don't know if anyone else will - "

"Save it? What from?"

"Well.  I'm not evil but - I kind of think all the other vampires maybe are?"

"...all of them?"

"I - haven't met very many.  But.  . . . I guess I should probably tell you how I became a vampire now."  She takes a deep breath.  "A while back I was riding home from a party with some of my friends, and we got T-boned, and, uh, now I'm a cyborg," she starts, and leans forward to tug up the cuff of her jeans enough to expose a bit of roboankle.

"...huh, cyborg vampire."

"It's like a regular prosthetic; I just call it that to - make myself feel better.  But yeah I guess."

"Okay... so you lost a leg, and..."

"Yeah.  Uh, I guess I really could have left that part out; I'm maybe just stalling, sorry - for reasons sort of tangentially related to that, like a month later I got - attacked?"  Judy's voice is squeaky and strained, and she's started hugging herself -  "By this girl who I'd known since like preschool - and I probably would have died of it except I - madeherloveme - and she healed me and got herself back to sane, and then later I blackmailed her into making me a vampire too, because if that could happen once it could happen again, and I needed - steering power - and I was going to try and like - take over things and make sure it couldn't - " and then she's too shakey to say any more.

...Millie's sort of frowning at this point.

That's fine.  Judy's going to . . . curl up and flop on her side into the arm of the couch.  With a care to keeping her shoes off the upholstery; she's not a monster.

"How much blood do you need usually?" Millie asks after a while, puttering around in her kitchen.

. . . Talking is very hard but probably it's been long enough that she can manage - "About that much every few days - three or four - or a bit more every five or six.  It's not very exact."  She sounds a bit strangled but is basically comprehensible.

"Okay... well, you can stay here," Millie says decisively, "and I'll feed you, at least for now, okay?"

" - Thank you - that's really nice, I - I can spend magic on not needing regular food, if that's better?  Or maybe it would make more sense for - is there any obvious way for me to become obscenely rich, here, then I could just pay you back and not impose on you for very long - "

"You could go work at the hospital?"