Xander Vs. Dracula -- Not Really
by Rob Morris
OCTOBER 23RD, 2000
After all the grief the vampire-king had put him through a month or so back, all Xander could focus on was a very odd set of thoughts.
"Dawn."
Now, had Dracula charmed the not-so little little girl, as he had Buffy and Joyce? Or had he shooed her away in tears, calling her 'not yet a woman'?
"You'd think I'd remember something like that. Dork."
He was certain the super-suave Dracula remembered each and every detail of the life and times of every target he'd even considered going after.
"Yah. He was even a warrior prince, before he was a super-vamp. A rich jock of yore."
A park bench in broad daylight away from prying eyes or ears, seemed a safe place for Xander to sulk in solitude. But a voice broke his reverie--as he really expected anyway, being Xander and all.
"Heh! Young man, he was *never* all that cool, and he still isn't! Oh, I could tell you stories..."
The older man in front of Xander was pale, though not quite vamp-pale, and wore a tuxedo that made him look like a walking penguin.
"Uh, sir? What--kind-of stories, exactly, could you tell me about Count Dracula?"
The man smiled a genuine smile, and not a demon-genuine smile, either. He looked like a real friend. He sat down.
"Well, Xander--and yes, I know who you are--let me first start out by apologizing for that no-good brother of mine! Imagine, a Dracula, starting up with the Slayer! Hmpht! We're not even demon-based Wamphiri. Oh, boy. And Lacroix thinks he has trouble with his family? Please!"
Xander tried to take all this in. This was, after all, his very first ever Catskills-sounding vampire.
"Count Dracula--the one we met here--is your brother?"
'Dracula' nodded.
"Yeah, he's my baby brother, Voivoide Radu. Me, I'm Vladimir Dracula, Bishop-Prince in that area of the world."
Xander shook his finger.
"How are there two Draculas--and doesn't that still make you Vlad The Impaler?"
'Dracula' pshawed at Xander with his hand.
"Oh, come now. Everybody--who was ANYbody impaled in those days. It was the thing to do. If you didn't impale your dead enemies on spears—their relatives got insulted."
Xander hoped he was catching on.
"Because they wondered why their kin wasn't good enough for your spears?"
Again, that affable smile.
"Right! But Radu--he was different. I--I'm afraid he jumped the gun, on the dead enemies part, when he impaled. It all started when we were kids. Royal hostages at the Sultan's court. Great life. Istanbul was the center of the world. Food. Learning. Then, Radu--he screws it all up."
The man was lightly frowning, now.
"See, the Sultan was a great guy. But all he asked was that we leave his daughters alone. Well, not only did Radu not leave two of them alone, he tried to make out like----"
Xander finished for him, comforted by the image of a nervous, dorky Dracula.
"How do you know its even mine?"
Vlad nodded, his smile returning.
"Radu found out why the Sultan's dungeon was so feared. I helped him to escape--the bum's still my brother. But the torture broke whatever was left in him that was any good. We both fell at the same battle, and my daughter got hurt trying to get us out. We all three fell to a nightstalker--but it was a different breed than sticks around by a Hellmouth."
Which is why Buffy couldn't simply dust old Radu, Xander thought.
"So, you and your daughter were cool, and kept cool as vamps. But Radu had *issues*..."
"Issues? Hey, I like that!"
"Thanks. And as a vamp, Radu became an even bigger creep than before."
Vlad nodded, more sadly this time.
"See, my breed is a funny one. We like to feed, but we don't need to. Feed, and become powerful. At least for old dog and pony tricks like lightning, mist, and hypnotizing people. But you become addicted to the power. So I went on the wagon, and I've never been happier."
Xander shook his head.
"But--no offense--you're old. Your brother still looks like a young man."
An opened palm, and another pshaw.
"Old, schmold! I still got centuries in me. Unlike Radu, I have friends, and family that wants to see me. Unlike him and that Master jamoak you guys used to have here---"
He pointed up.
"I can go outside. Have a hot dog. Even a garlic knot, if I'm so inclined. I go boating with my son-in-law---and as long as I remember to bring my life-jacket, we're fine!"
"Your son-in-law's a klutz?"
"Yeah, he's a member of the Frankenstein family."
"He's a scientist?"
"No, Herman--he's an experiment. I'm just never sure whether the Doctor got it all right, that time!"
Xander, feeling at least a bit better, began to smile.
"Well, thanks, Count--er--Vlad--er--"
"Why doncha just call me Granpa? I've come to like it."
Xander mused that he already liked this guy better than both his real granpas.
"Okay--Granpa."
"Now, Xander--two things. One--don't let that whole spell thing Radu pulled on you get you down. He only does that to people who remind him of who he really is at heart--my moron of a younger brother!"
"What's two?"
"Two is--could you maybe help my grandson Eddie get a job? He's anxious to be on his own, and he's a hard worker."
"Bring him around, Granpa---I'll see what I can do."
As the non-feeding vampire left town, the sun was setting, and he was stopped by a blonde.
"Count Dracula--I will serve you all my days, and together we will rule over the humans for epochs, eons, and years on log flume rides of blood."
Granpa Munster stared at Harmony.
"You're an idiot, aren't you?"
He left her without another word.
TWO DAYS LATER.....
Eddie's first day on the site went well, and Xander's boss gave him points for bringing in someone stronger than he looked. Eddie talked to Xander after the shift was over.
"Look, Xander, I owe you for this. But there are two things Granpa didn't mention about me that might cause problems, and I wanna be upfront."
It was too good to be true, Xander thought.
"Shoot."
Eddie shrugged.
"I play lead guitar in a band, and I sometimes change into a werewolf."
Xander smiled, and pointed at Eddie.
"Dude---that is soooo *not* a problem."
And Eddie's tenure at the construction site was without incident—until the day his father visited.