Disclaimer: I own very little within. If I had a nickel for every time I've said that, I'd go to the mall and throw them at people.

I don't mean to be updating frequently, but I'd like to get some chapters in before I get too overwhelmed by work as a high-schooler for the first time. I wonder if since I'm a freshman, I smell like new car.

Guess who I'm trying to represent by the F.B.I. agents correctly and win confidence! Use their initials to help you out. Depending on who you know, who you like, and if you can read my mind, it may be easier or more difficult for you. And maybe some characteristics.

Also, one more thing: on another website where I have this story posted, someone questioned me about my usage of the name 'Andrew' as opposed to 'Andy'. Long story short (this AN's already too long), it was a mistake in the very beginning, and a habit I never broke. Sorry.

"Oh my god, it's amazing how much cupcakes can do to your mood!" Joe stared at the little pastry that was helping him and the others drown their sorrows. Currently, the car was going on a road that slowly curved around a mountainside. Lush forest was not too far below, and they were the only vehicle on the road (for now).

"And we haven't even gotten the pot out yet!" Andrew agreed, finishing off a white chocolate iced cupcake and driving at the same time.

"I am actually feeling better…" Pete lifted another chocolate one out of the bag.

"AAAH!" Andrew pointed at him. "WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH PETE?" Pete ignored Andrew and handed the bag to Patrick

But Patrick shook his head. "Nah, I've had too many. There's way too much sugar in those."

Pete took the bag away. "You're joking, right?"

"Patrick, need I remind you of the internet quiz I took that said we weren't getting enough calories a day in proportion to our training, thus, we are skinny emo weaklings?" Joe said, waving part of a chocolate cupcake at Patrick.

"Don't bother him, Joe. He's too afraid of the calories. They are his enemy." Pete pretended to look dramatic as Joe and Andrew laughed and Patrick crossed his arms.

They were having so much fun that they didn't notice the large, black SUV with heavily tinted windows pulling right up right next to them as it drove along at about the same speed they were going.

"Come on, Patrick. Don't you want just ONE little calorific cupcake?" Joe waved the bag in front of him.

"You guys, this isn't even funny anymore… look, I'll eat the cupcake…" Patrick continued rolling his eyes.

"This one's going straight to my thighs!" Pete commented as he took another bite of cupcake, inducing laughs from Andrew and Joe.

"Nooo, Patrick's right!" Andrew smiled as he rolled down the window at his side without bothering to look to the side at all. "I would love to finish this cupcake, but it's SOOO filling from all the calories!" Andrew tossed his half-eaten cupcake out the window.

And he was rewarded with a loud 'SCREEEEEECH CRASH' type of noise.

Andrew immediately hit the brakes after hearing the noise. Patrick, Joe, and Pete jumped up.

Pete opened the door of the RV and looked out of it cautiously. Three other heads crowded around him to see what the source of the noise was. A black SUV with passenger windows that had such heavy tint you couldn't see into them at all had crashed into the side of the mountain that the wide road they were on stretched around. White icing, rainbow sprinkles and yellow cake had completely smeared across the windshield as well as the windshield wipers. From the deep scratches all over it, it appeared to have completely rolled and landed right-side up.

Immediately emerging from the driver's seat was a frazzled young man who looked to be about the age of the vigilantes. He had on thick, as-dark-as-can-be sunglasses (at midnight) and a black suit. His dark, seemingly uncombed hair was the only part of him that didn't look… organized. "WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!" He asked from where he was standing, in front of one of the back passenger seats doors.

"Do what?" Pete spoke for them and decided to play dumb (if only for just a little while).

"WHY DID YOU THROW A CUPCAKE AT OUR WINDSHIELD?"

"Why'd you turn the windshield wipers on?" Pete tried to look puzzled as he the other three tried to hold in their laughter. "You just made it worse!"

The suited guy flinched, looking frantic. "I… you can not talk to me this way! I am an FBI member… AGENT! I meant agent!" He reached into his pocket and held out a badge upside down. But then he realized that and quickly turned it right side up and held a rigid posture.

Patrick looked him over. "Uh… are you… new at this or something?"

The agent's posture softened. "Does it show?" He squeaked.

But before he could speak again, the car door he was standing in front of opened with a jolt, knocking the first agent out of the way. Another one stepped out. He had the same suit and sunglasses, but his hair was gelled upwards and he had a small layer of stubble.

He pointed to the younger agent. "You made me spill part of my beer, maggot!"

"Sorry…" The first one picked himself up off the ground and dusted his suit off.

"What happened here?" Another agent came out. This time it was a girl. She had light blonde hair and was visibly smaller than the guys who had already stepped out. She had the same suit and sunglasses, but her suit was slightly more fitted. She turned to the first one. "Did you crash? AGAIN?"

"Yeah, but this time it wasn't my fault! It was THEIRS! They threw a cupcake at me!" He pointed to the RV, but Patrick, Pete, Joe, and Andrew had ducked behind the door and were going to listen to hear what would happen next.

"A cupcake?" The second one asked. "If you're going to be a part of the VFBI, you have more things to be afraid of than a cupcake!"

"VFBI?" Patrick whispered. The others shrugged.

"Who… the hell… throws CUPCAKES OUT THEIR WINDOW?!" One more agent, a large black man with a shaved head, stepped out of the vehicle, carrying the steering wheel which had formerly been attached to the rest of the car. He turned to the new agent. "T.R., identify these fools!"

"Uh…" T.R. thought for a moment. "I never got their names. They're just some fools, Agent S.J., sir."

"Uh, I'm Andrew, and this is Pete, Patrick, and Joe. We're vampire-hunting vigilantes... and we're on a road trip to find a cure for vampirism."

Pete slapped Andrew in the back of the head. "What are you doing? You can't just go telling everything to people just because they ask, even if they are in some weird part of the F.B.I.!"

"That really hurt, Pete!"

"It's your fault anyway for hitting them with a cupcake!"

Meanwhile, the VFBI members were all laughing. "Vigilantes, you say… and you're looking for a cure for vampirism." S.J. turned to the others. "Isn't that nice." He turned back to the vigilantes. "I really should beat you guys within an inch of your lives… and then arrest you and a file a lawsuit." He threw the steering wheel like a Frisbee. Patrick ducked, and the wheel embedded itself deep in the body of the RV.

"That is bad…" Patrick said.

"Now would be a good time to go get weapons," Pete murmured to Patrick.

"I heard that!" The girl shouted. She suddenly sprinted forward, charging them. "Agent J.K., follow my lead!"

"Don't I always…" The one with the beer put his beer on the ground and also charged forward.

"Happy birthday!" Patrick threw a smoke grenade their way. But the girl dodged it. Agent S.J. caught it, glanced at it, then tossed it down over the railing at the edge of the cliffside road.

Joe met the girl by trying to high-kick her, but she reeled around him and gave him a similar kick to his side, knocking him forward. "Ouch! What's with you? A secret agent girl who kick boxes or something?"

She stuck out her hand. "You're… Joe, right? We haven't met. I'm Agent A.L."

Joe looked at her hand, then cautiously put his out. She grabbed it, smiled, shook his hand, then pulled him forward and punched him in the face. "You really are an idiot, aren't you?"

Pete tried to left hook Agent J.K. He hit him square in the jaw, but the agent steadied himself and punched Pete right back.

Pete shook his head. "You don't bother to block or move when I hit you. What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked as he inched backwards, trying to create a little distance.

"If you just hit me hard, you won't be expecting me to get right back up and hit you back, right?" He shrugged like it was obvious.

"That's crazy!" Pete shouted.

"We ARE vampires. I've never been happier hurting myself since I became a vampire… then part of the Vampiric Federal Bureau of Investigations. Pay is good… when pay is good… beer is cheap."

"So BEFORE you were a vampire, you used to go around-" Pete was cut off when Agent T.R. shot him in the lower side of his torso. "AAAGH! What the hell! I'm in the middle of talking!" Pete kneeled down for a moment.

"And it's rude to interrupt!" Patrick punched T.R. in the face then took out his crossbow and pointed it at his opponent. "This is useful even against non-vampires! And… cool! I'm not fighting the girl for once!"

"BE HAPPY YOU'RE NOT!" Joe was constantly ducking to avoid hits and had little time to get in his own.

Andrew turned to Agent S.J. "Cool… I get to fight you…"

"That would be a very bad idea on your part…" He answered.

"I'm willing to take my chances!" Andrew swung low with one rapier, then took out his other and managed to get in a slice on his opponent's arm.

Andrew smiled at this, until he was kicked away and back two feet. "Wow, you guys are no joke. Oh well, at least you're not vampires…"

"How can you be so sure?" S.J. smiled, and his vampire teeth were revealed.

From where Joe was, Agent A.L. shouted, "You almost knocked out one of my fangs, you ass!"

Pete punched his opponent again, who bounced back and grabbed Pete's shirt, pushing him forward and pinning him against the railing on the road. He smiled, revealing his vampire teeth as well. "I'm Agent J.K., and this is the High Dive!" He pushed forward, sending both him and Pete off the cliff.

"WHAT THE FU-" Pete shouted before they hurtled downwards. They both went down about twenty feet, hitting rocks, ledges, and the like. But then Pete was fortunate enough to land on a particularly large ledge, but one of his arms was still hanging off. "Uhhh… daaaaamn…" Pete moaned to himself as he begun to pick himself up, dripping blood from a wound on the side of his head.

"Wow, this sucks…" Agent J.K. was hanging on a lone branch; it had caught his pants and he was basically hanging by his waistband (how cliché).

"It's your fault!" Pete snapped. "Why'd you jump off a cliff and take me with you?!"

"It's a signature move!" He wiggled a bit on the branch. "My plan was for us to go all the way down. I thought I would have a better pain threshold than you, therefore, being able to walk away even if I was all broken and leave you limp n' whimpering at the bottom."

Pete was silent.

"It's an awesome move," Agent J.K. insisted before a loud snap sound was heard and the branch he was dangling on broke. "YOU HAVEN'T HEARD THE LAST OF MEEEEeeee…" He hollered as he hurtled down (again, very cliché).

"Aw, crap, now I'll have to climb back up…" Pete struggled to a sitting position, then to his feet, and felt around for injuries. After painfully popping his shoulder back into its socket, he began to climb back up the cliff.

"Take this, and that!" Agent T.R. threw a sloppy punch at Patrick, and another. Patrick dodged both and bashed T.R. across the face with his crossbow. "Not bad," he remarked. "But you cannot defeat the VFBI!" He swung a roundhouse kick at Patrick, but misjudged the distance, and threw himself off-balance.

"How many times have you really gotten in a fight before?" Patrick asked.

"A few! Take this!" T.R. jumped high into the air, and stomped down at Patrick. Patrick jumped away, and the novice vampire drove his right foot into the cement. "Dammit! Gimme a minute!" T.R. began pulling at his foot, and Patrick just looked at him quizzically.

"Yah!" Andrew stabbed forward with both his rapiers. Agent S.J. dodged back, but the tips still sunk into his gut just a bit. He grabbed the rapiers by the blades and lifted Andrew off the ground, then threw him onto the top of the RV. "Ow…" Andrew muttered as S.J. jumped up after him.

"If you four surrender now, we'll let you live," S.J. sneered. Andrew stabbed forward with the rapier Patrick made for him, but the muscular vampire-agent caught the blade again.

"I'll take my chances," Andrew answered, and pressed a button on the rapier. The blade lit up red-hot, and S.J. yelled and let go, clutching his smoking hand. Andrew feinted forward with his other rapier, then kicked S.J. in the gut, knocking him off the RV.

"Andy!" Pete shouted from the RV door. "Let's get the others and make a quick escape!"

"Awww, I hate to run!" Andrew whined.

"It's your fault we're in this situation in the first place!" Pete growled. "You get Joe and I'll get Patrick."

"'Kay," Andrew jumped off the RV with ease. "Hey Joe!"

"I'm a little busy right now!" Joe responded.

"Look! A ham demon!" Agent A.L. shouted, pointing behind Joe. But she didn't bother to wait for him to turn around (if he was going to at all) and just punched him hard in the face.

"AREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO WAIT UNTIL I TURN AROUND?!" Joe stumbled back onto the ground and yelled at her.

"Hey, girl!" Andrew stepped in front of Joe. "Look, your comrade trying to climb up the road when he probably broke his leg or something!"

Her response was to punch Andy in the face before turning around to see Agent J.K. crawling up the road.

"Can I get some help here? Maybe some beer?" He said weakly as his fellow agent ran towards him to help him up.

Andrew rubbed his face. "Damn, I hate that girl! Come on, Joe, Pete wants us to make a run for it!"

Patrick shook his head. "Dude, you're losing against me. Against ME. That's saying something!" He smiled and pointed his electric net gun at Agent T.R., who had successfully buried his fist into the ground shortly after pulling his foot loose.

"I don't know how my fist got in there."

Patrick carefully took aim, but someone interrupted him before he could shoot. "Mind if I cut in?" Agent S.J. turned Patrick around and kneed him hard in the stomach.

Patrick dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach. "Oooohhdamn…" He murmured.

"Hey! Large guy!" Pete ran toward Agent S.J.

"You called me? OOMMPH!" Pete tackled his shoulder directly into S.J.'s chest. "Nice try," the agent laughed, "but you'll have to tackle harder than that to knock me down!"

"Maybe you'll prefer this then!" Pete grunted and lifted S.J. over his head with both hands and threw him at T.R., popping him lose and knocking them both down. "Let's go! We're burning starlight, and all our stakes are in the RV anyway!" He and Patrick followed Joe and Andrew into the RV, and drove off as fast as they could.

A.L. pulled J.K. up over the ledge. "They're going straight to the top of our own personal most wanted list," A.L. growled.

"I couldn't agree more," S.J. replied. "Let's go check the damage on the van."

"Thanks to you, we'll have to find a new steering wheel," J.K. snickered. They didn't notice a stray bullet that had pierced one of their tires, flattening it.

A damaged, black car drove up. A man with sunglasses (not as dark as the VFBIs') and a short haircut observed them. "Hey, you guys need a lift?"

"No, no, we'll be fine," Agent J.K. answered.

The observer raised one eyebrow, unsure of the fact that they were 'fine'. But no matter. He continued his driving. Or he would've, if his car didn't suddenly stop after fifteen more feet.

"Huh?! Oh, out of gas! Good thing I keep a spare container in the back!" He said to himself just before it looked like this well-built man was stricken with bad luck. He got out of the car. "Oh! A twenty!"

Just as the man bent down to pick up his free money, Agent T.R. yelled out, "WATCH OUT! RUNAWAY VAN!"

"Huh?" The man with the money looked up just in time to see the van come hurtling down the road and bash into his car, sending into the railing (breaking right through it) and down into the forest. "OH NO! Oh well, at least it's just forest down there and not-" A loud splash interrupted him. "…a river."

"Sorry about that." Agent T.R. climbed into the driver's seats as the other three agents climbed into the back and they drove off, leaving the unlucky man at the road.

He looked up at the heavens. "WHY?! AGAIN!"

He was a cursed, unlucky man. But only in a way. Because the next person to drive up a mere minute later was a bubbly blonde who was having problems steering and braking (she was only in her teens). Her two friends were in the back of their beat-up, paint-chipped Ford (stolen? Who knows) She smiled at him, but her vampire teeth were not visible under his sunglasses and in the nighttime. "Need a lift? Hitchhikers are coooollll."