A/N: Yes, new chapter! I don't know, I think being back at classes, and studying various military battles helps to inspire me for this particular fic. Now, I should make mention of the ... let's call it the drama that seemed to happen lately in the fandom, but you know what? That would be giving it too much attention. Take it like this people, we are fangmily. We stick together. Bat Pack and Team Vlad, yeah? Peace, pancakes, and hope you like the chapter
Robin wasn't sure what was the root of Vlad's current foul mood but he was fairly certain that he didn't really want to know, if he was being made to be honest about it. Vlad had stormed off from the shops, leaving Robin to try to grab a taxi back to the mansion. He had sort of expected Vlad to be in his brothers' room when he arrived, but there was neither cape nor fang of the suddenly moody powerful vampire. Robin sighed, pulling off his coat, and going over to check on the young boys. Thankfully, they had managed to fall asleep, and were quite peaceful in their rest.
It was early morning, when the door closed, and Robin was pulled from his doze. He started, looking around confused for a moment, before blinking. "Hello?" he called. "Vlad?" There was no response. "Vlad, is that you?" he called again, standing and moving into the shared living quarters that was connected to the rooms they had gotten. Opening the door, he blinked into the darkness, vaguely making out the familiar outline of Vlad, sitting alert on the couch. "Vlad, what's wrong?"
"Have you spoken to Chloe lately?" Robin found himself staring, his hand reaching up for the light switch simply because he couldn't see. He didn't understand the question either, and there was a small part of his mind that considered that light might help the situation. "Don't switch on the light," Vlad spoke quickly. "Simple question, Robin," he added. Robin could feel his stare fixed on him. "Have you spoken to your sister lately?" Robin stepped further into the room.
"Vlad, I don;t understa-" The door went crashing against the far wall, as Tommo and his corps trooped in, guns raised. "What the hell?!" Robin yelled, as he was pushed back out of the way. The light was switched on, and Robin could hear Vlad's hiss as the soldiers of the Organisation surrounded him, their yells echoing off the walls. There was scuffling noises, and Robin tried to push forward again. "Let me through," he insisted, but was promptly ignored.
Through a gap, Robin saw Vlad still sitting down, his head pushed down by a soldier's foot so that he was level with his own knees. His hands were fang-cuffed behind his back, and Robin could swear he could smell a tinge of garlic in the air. Guns were pointed at his head, and all around his person. Vlad's eyes flitted around the room, and there was a silence as he seemed to consider all his options. He sighed. "Well," he said, "this is tiresome."
xXx
Vlad had been bundled into Selene's office with out any sense of pomp. He found himself roughly shoved into a chair in front of the large imposing desk, to which his hands and legs were cuffed to. He raised an eyebrow. "Someone's not taking any chances," he commented lightly, eyes studying the metal with a curious air. "Pure silver?" He made an impressed noise, though his voice was filled with scorn "Really. You shouldn't have."
"Like you said," Selene's voice came from the back of the office, and was perfectly even, "we're not taking any chances." There was a pause, and she stepped forward, dropping a plain file folder on the desk in front of Vlad. He looked down at it, before looking up, raising an eyebrow in a questioning manner. Selene took her seat behind the desk, and clasped her hands under her chin. "We've been doing research, Vlad Count," she said, looking him directly in the eye. "You're the Grand High Vampire."
"I'm guessing here's where you want me to deny it," Vlad hazarded a guess. "Or maybe go into classical villain cursing about how you've foiled my plan," he gave a small, bitter laugh. "Not exactly to my tastes, and really not when I'm doing the bondage thing." He looked down at the cuffs, before looking up, a smirk appearing. "If you wanted to tie me up to be at your mercy, you should have just asked." Selene threw him a venomous look, throwing another file on top of his. "And this one would be … what, exactly?"
"Chloe Branagh's Guild profile," was the prompt answer. Vlad straightened up in his seat, looking down at the folder as if its contents were open to him despite the closed cover.
"I'm always the last to find out this stuff," he said. Selene ignored him.
"We sent our best assassin after you."
"Clearly they weren't good enough," Vlad shot back. He twisted his wrists under the cuffs, ignoring the wince that threatened to come when he realised they were lightly coated in a garlic sheen. He bit back the hiss, struggled his wrists continuously, before slumping back. He cursed in Romanian under his breath, and looked towards the wall. After a minute, he spoke. "Okay, so you know who I am. You know that sending the best after me doesn't work," he looked directly at Selene. "I'd call this checkmate, wouldn't you?"
"Why did you come to us?" Selene was seemingly ignoring anything he was saying, until she got the facts she wanted. "You said that there were vampires after you. You're a decorated war hero, by all accounts," she gestured at the files. Vlad gave a shrug of acceptance, neither confirming nor denying her words. "What have you done to make them attempt a political assassination?"
"Like I know," Vlad flung his head back and laughed, very amused by the proceedings. Selene frowned. "Listen, here's two pieces of advice," he leant forward in the chair, fingers grasping the arm. "First, don't use breather logic to try to understand the motivations of vampires," Selene opened her mouth to speak, but Vlad continued quickly. "Even those who have been Turned. When you're driven by a lust for blood, you tend to lose a little bit of that common sense that you walking Happy Meals seem to have."
"What's the second piece?" Selene said. Vlad smirked, and held up the cuffs.
"Get better stuff."