Disclaimer: The Lost Boys belongs to Warner Bros. I'm just having a bit o' fun with the characters.

xXx

I slept all day, but the Boys didn't. Before I dropped off, I heard an echoing shout from the back of the cave followed by a resounding crash then silence. Waiting, I snuggled against the pillows and stuffed animals, wondering what was going to come next, but sleep won me over. Before I sank into oblivion, I was wracked with a memory of the not so distant past. Looking back, I should have known that something or someone must have triggered it in the first place; it was a nagging puzzle, and my tired brain was trying to solve it.

We had to look normal or as normal as one can be at night without arousing suspicion. Max was quite adamant about that little aspect of our undead life. I was a mere pup, unconcerned with Max's peculiar ideas and notions of how a vampire and a hound of Hell should appear in public. I didn't know what he thought of his Boys and their unique look, but I knew they were certainly unconcerned about the clothes they wore. I figured Max let them do whatever so they wouldn't be linked to a bespectacled video geek. Very smart on Max's part, distancing himself from the Boys, but it wasn't as perfect as I thought. Being young and inexperienced, I didn't know a lot about the other upstanding citizens of Santa Carla. It was the trip to the only veterinary office open during evening hours on certain nights that made me realize there were others in this quaint coastal hamlet who knew all about our peculiar lifestyle.

Henrietta 'Hank' Mondschein, DVM, was very astute. She was quite young, in human years, and I suppose she was pretty by human standards, but I've seen better looking female hounds of Hell. Her observational skills were extraordinary, and she knew it. It was a shame though, because I didn't like her one bit. I think it was the perfume she wore. I was barely a year old, so my sense of smell was still a work in progress, and I was still learning to identify all the different scents that assailed my young nose, but the reek of that perfume was nauseating.

After looking at my teeth and injecting me with the necessary vaccines, she struck up a little conversation with Max. I didn't understand most of what Dr. Mondschein was chattering about, but I knew it was affecting Max adversely. I could sense his shrunken heart trying to spasm in a futile effort to act like a normal heart

"Your Boys are up to no good."

"What do you mean? I told them to never interact with or harass the local supernaturals," answered Max. He was starting to get irritated.

"Do I look dumb to you? My father doesn't like it when his constituents complain about the local gangs, especially the gang of local bloodsuckers. What would happen if I complained to him?" Dr. Mondschein had her arms crossed while her shoe tapped the floor with a quick staccato beat.

Max sighed, "We wouldn't want the councilman breathing down our necks, do we now, Thorn?" He patted my head. "Alright, what did they do this time?"

"Your Boys have been hanging around my office lately, and my patients, especially the ones whose owners can only come in during the nights I'm open, are starting to complain. I understand we're located in a rough part of town, but I have a commitment to my patients for a hassle-free environment."

"That's funny. I don't see them when I bring in Thorn."

"That's because they know when you're coming!"

"Alright, I understand, I understand. I know what it's like to lose business when you have unsavory types hanging around your business. I had the same problem with this annoying mime," said Max. "I guess I need to talk to my boys about staying away. Let's chalk this up to youthful exuberance shall we?"

"Youthful exuberance, I think not! Your Boys are far from the youths they use to be. The Punk's probably old enough to have learned his lady-killer tricks from Jack the Ripper himself."

"I'm sure David would like to hear that."

"Oh, I bet he would," snapped Dr. Mondschein, "and Shorty seems to follow him around like a starry-eyed pup. I assume he's the shopper these days since I've seen him haggling over food at the local restaurants and what-not." Crouching over me, she started examining my ears, looking at their interiors and making sure they were clean. Once she was done, she straightened up. "I'm not so sure about the Rocker though. He seems like the troublemaker of the group, and I'm afraid I've had to lock up certain things in my safe, mainly surgical instruments and drugs. It's better to be safe than sorry."

I was beginning to admire Dr. Mondschein's penchant for giving the Boys appropriate nicknames.

"You could say that again," said Max under his breath.

"Excuse me?"

"I said that you could see they've been keeping up their appearance; prey is so much easier to subdue once they've been lulled to take the bait."

"Oh, yes, it's always best for us to hide what we truly are," Dr. Mondschein agreed. She paused for a bit, absentmindedly playing with a lock of her dark brown hair. "Pretty Boy seems like the quiet one of the group. You should have him take Thorn in one of these days since he seems to be the most pleasant one of the bunch."

Did she just say Pretty Boy?

"I'd rather stick slivers of garlic beneath my eyelids and gurgle holy water before I let any of my Boys take Thorn to the veterinarian," replied Max as he took out his wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

"Let me check. I assume you'll be paying in cash," Dr. Mondschein calculated the amount and returned with a receipt. "Here, now you're ready to go."

"I see you're planning to build a kennel next door," observed Max as he pocketed his receipt.

"Yes, it's in the planning stages though, but I'm hoping Thorn would be one of its future customers."

"I'm sure he will."

I certainly did stay at Hank Mondschein's Pet Hotel, and it was the first and last time I stayed in any sort of thing. Now this is the part of the memory I'm quite fond of; I remember Max telling me how Dr. Mondschein shook her head at the chaos that ensued during my stay and the restraining order from an irate Chihuahua owner. She subsequently banned me from staying at the kennel.

Although I still see her and smell her awful perfume once a year for check-ups, she does have a way of appearing when I least expect it: I never knew the good Doctor was fond of taking moonlight jogs in the nude. As a werewolf, she's quite attractive, but still not as hot as some female hounds of Hell I've known. At least she wasn't wearing that nauseating perfume. With that piece of the memory puzzle solved, I finally fell into true sleep.

xXx

At nightfall, my waking eyes were greeted by the sight of the Boys slowly making their way from the rear of the cave. They didn't look well rested, except for Paul, the eternal Rocker, who looked like he had a wonderful slumber.

"I told you we should have left him in the tree, but no, you just couldn't leave him to cook," said David as he pushed at the spikes of his hair, arranging them to stand as straight as possible.

"Hey, you were the only one who was bothered by Paul's bedtime story," Marko replied. "You didn't have to stay and listen to it. Heck, there's the rest of this big, spacious, and roomy cave for you to sleep in peacefully." He sat down on the worn couch with a sigh of contentment.

"What story? I don't remember any bedtime story."

"You were talking in your sleep, Paul," stated Dwayne as he leaned against a stone pillar.

"Oh."

David went to the cupboard and rummaged around before coming up with the decorated bottle that contained the blood. I often wondered how they kept the blood from clotting or turning bad without refrigeration. I also saw him take out a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket and hand it to Marko before sitting down in his wheelchair throne, clutching the bottle of blood as if it was a precious vintage of red wine.

"What was I saying?"

"So Paul wants to know what he was saying. Marko, what was he saying?" asked David from his wheelchair, a little sneer curling his lips.

"I don't know; I had my ears plugged the whole time."

David rolled his eyes. "Work with me here! All I'm asking is what Paul said while he was asleep--oh never mind!" He lifted the bottle, checking to see how much blood was left. "Oh good, the jug's still full."

"Did I talk about hairballs, weed gardens, and naked joggers? 'Cause seriously, that's all I remember man. Except for something with connect-the-dots; do any of you guys know what it all means?"

Standing up, David looked like he was going to shove the bottle down Paul's throat, "Why don't you ask Thorn? He was with you all night."

Paul looked in my direction, a wry smile on his face, "From what I remember, Thorn and I were busy chasing after the naked jogger. Boy, was she hot or what? Eye candy when you least expect it. We could have hit it right off, but she caught me off guard. I just couldn't overlook the werewolf part!"

I noticed Dwayne cast a sharp glance in Paul's direction. His normally expressionless face was trying hard to hold back an emotion. I couldn't tell what it was, but I knew he wasn't pleased about something. However, the displeasure on his face disappeared when Marko came up to him with the piece of paper and spoke to him quietly about something. The raven-haired vampire nodded his head once and took the paper.

"Could we stop talking about the werewolf?" David sighed as he placed the bottle on the table. "I thought your moaning and groaning about stupid connect-the-dots was bad enough, but to hear you carrying on about that hairy chick is enough for me to go sunbathe."

"Now that's something I'd like to see," whispered Marko.

"Marko, isn't it time for you to walk Thorn?" David narrowed his eyes, glaring at the short vampire.

"Yeah, it's my turn, but I'll walk him only if Paul comes along," demanded Marko.

"Sweet, I don't mind another walk with devil-pooch." Paul was grinning, his slightly bloodstained teeth glistening in the semi-darkness of the cave.

"Well, as long as I'm not walking with that fleabag, you guys can do whatever you want, but stay out of trouble for Max's sake."

"I think David likes you, Thorn," observed Paul.

Grinning a generic dog's grin, I let the observation slide.

"You guy's ready to go? The night's way too young to not get hammered, and there's this place I want to check out. It just opened up, and I heard it's a cool hang out. I think we can get ourselves in on the goods." Marko was excited; he walked quickly towards me, but when I saw the leash he held in his hands, I knew this walk wouldn't bode well for me. Before he came near enough to snap the leash onto my ridiculous spiked collar, Dwayne intercepted him and handed back the mysterious note, but not before giving me a sly glance. "Hey Paul, put this leash on Thorn; I have to check the shopping list."

Ah, now the mystery was solved, and here I was, wondering if it was a blackmail letter. I didn't like that look Dwayne gave me though.

"Thorn doesn't need a leash; he's a good dog, and he won't give you any trouble unless you ask for it." Paul nodded in David's direction as they made their way out of the cave. "So where're we going?"

Marko bit back a little laugh as he put the leash away. "Well, we got errands to run first. Damn it, I can hardly read what David wrote on here!" Marko squinted at the list as he emerged from the cave. "Shit! Chickens write better than this!" He held the paper above the spray as the waves rushed against the boulder strewn beach and the wooden walkway.

Paul put on a silly grin and said, "Did you ever wonder about those gloves David wears? Why do you think he has them on? He's gripping the bars with his feet and not with his hands while he sleeps."

"I've never wondered about it."

"When you get down to it, the dude's all thumbs; he'll never write neatly enough to save himself during an essay contest."

Both vampires didn't look up when David and Dwayne flew past, their dark forms dwindling as they used the occasional updraft to soar overhead.

xXx

The moon rose over us, its fat face shining against the blackness as it slowly traveled across the sky, subduing the twinkling lights of the surrounding stars. The heavy bass thumps of the waves crashing against the cliffs receded until there was only silence on the dirt path that led from the cliff stairs. A small breeze swept in and whipped up the dust from the path and stirred the pale tall grass into a small dance that shook their dried stalks. I loped quietly behind the vampires, listening to their conversation and the distant calls of other night creatures.

"Care to tell us what you're mumbling about?" asked Paul as he walked ahead of us.

"I'm double-checking the shopping list for tonight." Marko glanced down at the paper he held in his gloved hand. "Look here, Dwayne wants cantaloupes." There was a snicker from Paul at the mention of cantaloupes. "Holy shit, he also wants a dog muzzle, preferably a large one!" Marko laughed as he tucked the list back into his pants pocket.

At the mention of the muzzle, Paul paused not too far from where the dirt path met with the paved road that led to Santa Carla. "Um, what does he want the muzzle for?"

"Well, you never know what goes on in Dwayne's brain. He could be scheming about a lot of things, and we'd never know about it." Marko caught up with Paul, and as he did, he looked at me. "There's a chance he's going to use it on Thorn."

"I'm telling you man, Thorn's a cool Hound of Hell. I'm going to have to talk to Dwayne about this muzzle thing."

I was beginning to admire Paul for sticking up for me. As for Dwayne, I thought about leaving a little present in his sneakers while he slept. The kid knew how to push my buttons alright. The little crack about neutering I can overlook, but a muzzle?

"Wait a minute, what's he going to use the cantaloupes for?"

"I don't have the faintest idea."

"You know, I could use a few of those cantaloupes."

"What are you going to use them for? Dive-bomb your victims into unconsciousness then drink their blood?" There was a curious gleam in Marko's eyes.

I could see he didn't have to understand Dwayne's eccentricities, but knowing Paul, there was a chance those cantaloupes would be put to use in some wacky scheme contrived by the tall blonde vampire.

"That's none of your business."

"Are you making a fruit salad?"

Paul abruptly turned and headed down the road. "Where's that place you were talking about?"

"You're not answering my question, and seriously, I thought you'd be more interested in the muzzle," teased Marko.

"What do you take me for, man?" Paul turned, clearly exasperated, "You think I'm some sort of freak with a kinky streak?"

"Yeah," answered the short vampire.

"Holy shit, you know me so well!"

xXx

Notes and Stuff: I must apologize for the lengthy hiatus, but real life has a way of throwing a wrench in one's creative plans. Now that summer and fall have passed like dead brown leaves before a noisy leaf blower, I believe this winter will be a bit more productive. As long as I don't get distracted by squids, octopus, Evil Kate, baking, and cats with cheeseburgers, I'll be able to continue this sordid tale.