Author's Note:
Beware the late-night plot bunnies. Although this is more of a drabble than anything else. Something to keep my mind awake in between studying for this wretched exam.

Apologies, this story had a few formatting problems that I missed when I originally uploaded. They're fixed now.

Disclaimer:
There are no claims of ownership here! I'm just borrowing some characters so I can toy around with them for a bit. ;)


There's a Super Villain at my Dining Table
A fanfic by Pseudinymous

~ 1 ~
- A Oneshot -


"It's not very tender," Vlad remarked, a sour look spreading across his face. "How did you cook it?"

The younger Fenton sibling just shrugged, brandishing his spatula and retreating back into the kitchen. Vlad eyed him all the way, however Daniel apparently wasn't bothered by the inferior quality of the food he'd just cooked for the billionaire. The rest of the Fenton family seemed to be poking it with the same disinterest Vlad was; it wasn't just inferior when compared with professionally-prepared food, it was also inferior when compared with food cooked in an ectoplasm-powered microwave.

In turn, that meant that it was already worse than that poor animal the appliance had accidentally brought back to life. Even after it had begun to attack the diners who were attempting to eat it.

"So, Vlad..." Maddie began, attempting to make something that resembled a friendly conversation - the way she held her fork in his direction indicated a thinly-veiled threat, however. "What have you been doing with yourself, lately?"

Jazz tried not to cringe; this was evidently going to be an awkward dinner. Jack on the other hand seemed to be as oblivious as ever, as he slowly made a decision about which way was the best to attack his dinner. No one told him to do otherwise, as attacking food was sometimes a necessary in the Fenton family dinnertime ritual.

"So kind of you to ask, Maddie. I just acquired SRETSAM Industries this morning, if you were wondering about the spring in my step."

Maddie chewed the duck aggressively. She had been wondering, oh yes, but she hadn't been wondering in a happy way.

The conversation was hardly merry. Vlad attempted to cheer it up at every turn, but the only thing that ever helped keep it cheerful was Jack, and that just made Vlad even more annoyed than he had been before. Jazz stayed well out of it and left as soon as her share of the poor dishonoured bird was eaten, leaving him to have a staring contest with the love of his life and a painfully jovial conversation with the love of hers. Danny seemed to remain inside the kitchen.

The pain of this contrived situation lasted a good half an hour; and as much as Vlad tried, he had no hope of salvaging the situation. He didn't understand why Daniel had invited him over for dinner, or why his parents also seemed to be so insistent on it. Jack was excited about acquiring some technology from DALV, but it was hardly a conversation that needed to be held in the Fenton household.

If he had to be honest, he was just glad to see Maddie, even if she wasn't quite so glad to be seeing him. The woman had softened in the past ten minutes or so, however, probably after realising that he was restraining himself from making any obvious moves on her (or any obvious attempts to harm her husband). Perhaps this was the way to her heart?

… That wouldn't do, Vlad realised bitterly. You couldn't get into a married woman's heart by simply avoiding the truth about your intentions. Or could you? The protocols of romantic relations were always something that had confused him, although he'd never wanted to admit it.

Danny eventually ambled back out of the kitchen, carrying three bowls of ice-cream – apparently he'd predicted his sister's wish to leave, or at the very least had noticed her ascending the stairs to her room. Each bowl was set down carefully in front of them, and Danny disappeared into the kitchen again, without a word.

"Well, at least the ice-cream's better…" Maddie sighed, tasting it. "Even if it did come straight out of a tub."

Vlad slivered a slice off with his spoon, analysing it momentarily before testing it with his tongue. It was an odd taste for ice-cream – flavoured with something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. It didn't taste like shelf brands, but it was passable. "Has he been using you all as test subjects for his abysmal cooking skills?"

Maddie's voice was quite flat. "Sadly, yes," she mumbled. "He was just so eager to show that he could cook that duck for tonight, I couldn't say no. Oh, my poor sweetie…"

Vlad frowned, and shaved off some more ice-cream from the scoop. Something black poked through from the centre. He'd already eaten another mouthful before he noticed it, protruding from the mass of white dessert. It looked like a little crown. Vlad lowered an eyebrow, curiously. "What's this?" he asked. Maddie and Jack peered over curiously, staring at both him and the bowl, but neither said anything. They were so silent it was as if the breath had caught in their throats.

A spark of disgust shot through Vlad, as he began picking through the contaminated food with his spoon. Eventually he had excavated every last bit, and held up the figure curiously in front of his face. It was a chess piece – a black queen to be exact – and it had a mysterious little hatch on the bottom. Maddie and Jack had leaned in further without his notice, and he couldn't help his curiosity but open the chess piece up.

Inside was a piece of paper, which was smeared slightly by the ice-cream left over on the figure that had encased it. Vlad unrolled it, and squinted at the tiny, poorly-composed handwriting.

And then he stopped breathing, eyes wide.

'Checkmate, fruit-loop.'

The half-ghost suddenly became aware that he was glowing, and that both Fenton parents had ecto-guns trained squarely on him. He stuttered uselessly, that there was something in the ice-cream, or perhaps even something in the duck (it sure had tasted poorly enough), but the threatening barrels of ectoplasmic weaponry were still pressed against his chest.

How could he have not realised that he'd transformed? When had this happened? Regardless, his secret was out. There was nothing he could do about that – merely salvage the situation, or flee. Vlad tried to become invisible, and realised with a creeping horror that he couldn't. His appearance might have changed, but his powers were gone.

It was the duck. It had to have been something in the duck!

"We didn't believe him at first," Maddie began, coldly. "That you could be the Wisconsin Ghost."

Jack didn't say anything. He looked tortured, holding that gun up to who was (at least in his eyes) his best friend. Maddie, however, had no reservations.

"Perhaps you should come with us?" she suggested.

Vlad couldn't do anything to resist.


Author's Note:
… Well, that ended a bit more ominously than I was intending...