THEY SHOOT VAMPIRES, DON'T THEY?

Chapter 9 - The Morning After

Disclaimer: Raziel, Kain, Nosgoth, Melchiah etc: not mine. Very creative people at Eidos Interactive, Crystal Dynamics, Silicon Knights made those. Kurt Wagner: again, not mine. All hail Marvel Comics for their creative genius. Rat belongs to The Deville's Dog (further story about Rat is in the Originals section. Check it out ^_^) Lupa and Vladimir are my creations and for some odd reason I want to keep them. :) And plus! This chapter, special cameo appearances from: Legolas the Elf (property of JRR Tolkein) and Spike (property of…erm…Fox? Joss Whedon? Anyhow, not me)

Yes. They really are going to drink that…I may bottle it and try to sell it so I can afford my very own Raziel next time. *grins*

Scene opens in Vladimir's hall. The usual display of coats hanging there…and also, leant up in a corner next to Vladimir's wellies - a large quiver, full of arrows, and a elven longbow.

Raziel walks across the lounge, hooves crunching on spilt peanuts, chips, pizza boxes and kebab containers. He goes into the kitchen and starts clattering about with frying pans.

Vladimir, who is lying half-way up the stairs with his head resting on an upturned saucepan, wakes up abruptly.

Vladimir: Wha-? *feels the texture and taste in his mouth* Ugh…..

Raziel: *popping his head out of the kitchen* Do you want breakfast? I'm doing pancakes.

Vladimir: Go away. I'm dying.

Raziel: *shrugs* Fair enough.

He vanishes back into the kitchen, and the clattering begins anew. Vladimir winces at the loud, abrasive sounds, pushes himself to his feet and staggers up the stairs. Someone is being heavily ill in the green bathroom, to judge by the noise. Vladimir wrinkles his nose and presses on to the Devil's Room in the attic. He knocks on the door.

Vladimir: Kurt!

No response.

Vladimir: I know you're in there.

He shoulders open the door and approaches the heap of duvet on the bed. He kicks it.

Vladimir: Kurt!

Kurt: Go 'way.

Vladimir grabs the duvet and pulls. A reluctant Nightcrawler emerges.

Kurt: What do you want? I was sleeping.

Vladimir: Get out of there this minute and help me. I think Legolas is being sick in my bathroom.

Kurt gives him a look.

Kurt: And you want me to do…what? Hold his hair for him? Go away.

He tries to dive back under the duvet but Vladimir grabs him by the ears and pulls him back out.

Kurt: Ouch! Was?

Vladimir: I blame you for this entirely.

Kurt: *angrily* Me? What did I do? You were the one who insisted on melting that stick of Blackpool rock.

Vladimir: *shaking his head* I never did that. I'm sure I never did that. I love rock. You were the one who put that blue stuff in.

Kurt: Blue curacao?

Vladimir: Is that what it said on the bottle?

Kurt: Ja.

Vladimir: And you found it under the stairs in that box with all the bottles in?

Kurt: *shrugging into his dressing gown* Sure.

Vladimir frog-marches him out the door.

Vladimir: Come on and help me. We just have to pray it wasn't the double-strength dragon repellant.

As they hurry down to the green bathroom, Lupa drowsily looks out from the Frost Room.

Lupa: What's going on? I smell pancakes.

Vladimir: *putting his hands on his hips* I sincerely hope you weren't sleeping in there with Raziel last night, young lady.

Lupa frowns as if trying to recall something very important.

Lupa: I don't think I was sleeping….

Legolas chooses this moment to open the bathroom door, looking very miserable.

Lupa: What did you horrible lot do to him?!

Vladimir: *putting one hand over his eyes* He drank it.

Lupa: He never did! *to Legolas* You never did?!

Legolas: *trying to focus* Why…is the ceiling…down there?

Lupa: *shocked* Oh, poor baby.

Raziel: *from downstairs* Kurt, did you want breakfast?

Kurt: *calling down* Ja. Toast please. Be there in just a sec.

Legolas catches the scent of frying and dives back into the bathroom, slamming the door.

Lupa: *crossly, to Vladimir* I thought you said you were going to use it to clean the drains!

Vladimir: I did?

Lupa: Yes! Right after you said you were going to change your name to Suzy and dance on a platform at the Silver Fox club.

Vladimir: *massaging his temples* Ohhhh boy.

He presses one ear up to the door.

Vladimir: Legolas? Are you all right in there?

Downstairs, the doorbell rings.

Raziel: *cheerfully* I'll get it!

He opens the door and lets in Spike, who makes a point of glancing warily into all the corners before stepping inside.

Spike: Okay, where is it?

Raziel: Where is what?

Spike: You know. The demon brew. The ten-dollar paintstripper.

Raziel: *jerking a claw over his shoulder, indicating the kitchen* In there. It's going brown now, but it still looks interesting. See for yourself.

Spike: *heading for a chair* No way. It might bite me or something.

Raziel: Oh, I shouldn't think so. Legolas drank some of it, and he's still alive.

Vladimir: *tersely, from the upper landing* He's moving. I think alive might be putting it a bit strongly.

Kain also walks out from the Frost Room, yawning. Vladimir glances between him and Lupa, in horror.

Vladimir: *grabbing Lupa by the shoulders* Say it ain't so, baby. SAY IT AIN'T SO!!!!

Lupa: *looking at Kain in realisation* Oh! I thought that draft excluder was heavier than normal when I fell over it.

Kain: *surprisingly chipper* That's all right. At least you didn't try and wedge my legs under the door like Raziel did when he came up.

Vladimir: You had two vampires in your room, you nasty little wolfy slapper?

Lupa: Technically, no. It's Raziel's room.

A while later - most of the guests are down in the lounge eating breakfast. Vladimir and Spike stand on the landing, trying to work out what to do about the elf, who has only emerged once, demanded his bow and quiver, then retreated once more. The wall outside the green bathroom is peppered with arrows.

Spike: Seriously. He needs a drink of water. He looks rougher than me after a night on the piss, and that's saying something.

Vladimir: *holding a pint glass of water in one hand, knocks at the door* Legolas? I brought you something to drink…

Legolas' voice: *from within, furiously* Drink? DRINK?!!!!

The door opens a mere few inches, and a barrage of arrows flies through the gap. Vladimir flattens himself to the carpet. The arrows lodge in the wall inches from his head.

Spike: *grinning* Well, at least his aim's improving.

Vladimir: *scathingly* Ha bloody ha.