Hey guys! This isn't my first fan fiction ever, but this is one of my favorite topics/genres. I haven't been on in a while, so forgive me if I'm rusty. Again, I love comments and suggestions, I welcome constructive criticism, but I hate flames, especially rude flames. If you don't like it, then don't read it, please. This is for fun anyway, and a good outlet for things and issues in my life. I hope you enjoy.

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Chapter One: Carfax Antiquities

Inara woke with a gasp, cold sweat coated her fair skin, and she struggled to catch her shaky breath. Her dreams lately were nightmares, something conceived in the deepest pit of Hell. Quickly, she blamed it on her new, strange surroundings. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she sat up in the antique, four poster bed, quickly she was on her feet stretching with a yawn.

The young woman had taken a week off of work to visit her mother's home, rather her recently deceased mother. According to the police, she had been mugged then hung and burned, they found her body still smoldering in the early hours of the morning. After that phone call, it took Inara only twenty hours to collect her things and fly from her work in Italy, to her mother's in London. Carfax Antiquities was now in her care, passed down from her grandfather, to her mother, and now to a reluctant Inara, who was inspecting a piece of furniture that dated back to the 1800s. She couldn't stay for long, her work wouldn't allow it, so when the papers were drawn up, she would put the shop up for sale, along with the antiques within.

Her fingers gently passed over an old photo of her mother, sitting next to and much older photo of her grandfather. She felt a pull on her heart as she picked up the photo. She looked exactly like her mother, fair white skin, dark brown curly hair, the only difference is that her mother posses chocolate brown eyes, while Inara's were pale blue. A painful look crossed her face as she looked down into her mother's eyes, "Why did you send me away, Mother? Why?"

A sharp knock at the door startled Inara out of her thoughts, almost causing her to drop the picture. The knocking continued, and after placing the photo down, the young woman opened the heavy oak door. Before her was an elderly man, seemingly bent over by the weight of ages. Even though his hair was silver, dotted with streaks of white, the look in his eyes hinted that he must have been handsome in his younger years. He looked up at her with a kind yet somber look, his eyes sparkling a little with the still vibrant life.

"Miss Van Helsing, my name is Simon, and I was a close friend of your mother and grandfather, God rest their souls. I am sorry for your loss..."

"Oh ... thank you..." Inara responded, caught off guard. This man was a friend of her mother's? He looked three times as old as she had been when she died. The old man must have been a close friend of her grandfathers, and then that relationship transfered to her mother.

"Do you need any help? I was an employee of your grandfather's, I could help adjust to running Carfax..."

"Oh no," Inara interrupted, shaking her head. "I'm planning to sell the place, not work here." Simon looked surprised, taking a step into her office, startling Inara.

"You have to take over the business."

"I'm sorry, I know you were friends with my family, but I can't just quit my other job..."

"You don't understand, you have to take over the business," the older man looked absolutely adamant about it.

"I can't, you can take it if you want to Simon, you know more about this place anyway."

"I'm too old to be running a business, and Carfax Antiquities must be run by a Van Helsing." Inara sighed, her opinion was not swayed by the old man's argument, after what her mother did, and her own job, there was no way she could successfully run the business.

"Listen, I only have a week off of work, then I have to be back in Rome," Inara tried to explain, turning to go back to the wooden desk. "Besides, I didn't even know my mother or grandfather. You're more of an owner than I am."

"You are your mother's daughter, her blood is in you, this place is in you. Sending you away was a hard decision for your mother, but it was for your own protection. Now, it is your destiny to look over this place."

"It's an antique shop. What's so dangerous here? All the weapons are kept behind bulletproof glass with locks, and we're in the better part of London." Inara had to take a deep breath to suppress the frustration bubbling within her. "Listen, I still have a week ... find your replacement owner by then."

"Inara...
"I said, no," Inara sat down angrily in the chair, her hand hitting the corner of the desk, causing her to yelp. Blood was running down her hand, coating her wrist and lower arm in the crimson liquid, who's source laid in a deep cut on her palm. "Fuck..." she cursed, holding her hand gently. Simon moved to her, a handkerchief in his hand, but before he could even hand the piece of cotton to Inara an alarm went off. It was quiet, just a pulsing red light with a small whirling sound, but the look on Simon's face caused Inara to worry all the more.

Alright, that's the first chapter, I already have the second and most of the third written so they should be up soon. I'll post the second tomorrow and the third by Saturday night at the latest. Comment, and enjoy :-)