To my Young Dracula readers, I am very sorry you have been neglected by me getting utterly snowed under errors and having lots of endings and new stuff to write over in my active stories.

I'm also sorry that all you get for your waiting is this little slightly-cracky quickie.

-YD-

"Six months? I know he's the picture of discipline, but Vlad's a teenager!"

Becky scoffed at Erin, resuming trying to put on lip gloss in her compact whilst checking out Michael in Sixth Form at the same time.

"Yeah, but Vlad's eighteenth birthday is in a little over six months."

"And? He's legal and can't keep his eyes off Bertrand" Lucy rolled the 'r' sound in that way most people couldn't "so I give it a month at best. There must be tons of sexual tension in those tutoring sessions."

Ingrid rolled her eyes from the shadiest corner, surprisingly in class for once. Though with a wide berth around her. At her tutting sound, the girls turned toward her.

"You want in on the pool Ingrid? There's still some spaces left."

Natalia, someone who was completely determined to befriend Ingrid like some kind of challenge, asked.

"Do I care whether or not my brother and his stuffy old tutor sit a little closer while boring each other stupid... no."

The conversation continued upstairs in the attic, where Renfield and the Count overheard Erin trying to convince Ingrid to join the bet.

"My son would never stoop so low!"

Erin looked up at the patriarch, tapping her pen against her homework.

"So you don't want in?"

The Count huffed, then swirled dramatically and leant over the pool-sheet.

"I'll take one week, six days."

Vlad stepped back from the doorway silently, crept away before anyone saw him overhearing. Firm arms slid around his waist when he reached the basement, cool lips on his neck and a low chuckle when Vlad shivered.

"I could have been anyone."

"Nah, I know your smell."

Bertrand smiled slightly as Vlad turned around, placed his hands on the tight muscles he could feel through the older vampires thin t-shirt for training.

"Are they still betting?"

"Yep. Even dad just got in on it. Should we tell them?"

"That we are already an item?"

"Yeah. We could probably claim the prize money."

"I would much rather avoid accusations of impropriety."

"I'll find out when Erin's bet is. If she wins she'll buy me sweets."

Bertrand rolled his eyes, slid a hand across the back of Vlad's t-shirt, inspiring a secondary shudder.

"You're incorrigible."

-YD-

I tried! I think it's funny... maybe if you squint.