Author's notes: I actually wanted to avoid putting an OC in this story at all, but...Roxanne just...popped into my head. She kind of stayed there. I promise she isn't a self-insert XD. I'd be very concerned about my mental health if she was.

Every. Single. Muscle. Hurt. It was like he'd been shoved into a small box for several hours, pulled out, and then immediately stretched on a rack to make up for it. Sam wasn't used to this much manual labor in a week.

"Ed. Alan." He groaned from the couch, arm slung over his face.

The Frog brothers both grunted in response, Alan splayed out on the ground by the coffee table, and Edgar propped upside-down on Grandpa Emerson's lazy boy. He was lucky the old man went out for a mid-day trip to the Widow Johnson's, or he'd find himself as the next stuffed gift for her sitting room. Grandpa had a thing about his chair...much like his car.

"If you guys do any other stupid crap this week...leave me out of it." Sam sighed.

"Boardwalk," growled Edgar.

"...What?" Sam asked incredulously, acting as if he didn't really understand the statement. Unbelievable! All the crap mom made them do, and they still weren't gonna let up on him. What the hell did they think happened?! Granted, he did run into his dead brother, and very nearly the rest of the shit-sucking clan...but there was no way either Ed or Alan could've made the insane leap of logic to even think something like that could have transpired. It was ridiculous! Not only that, is wasn't like they were a couple of brilliant monster-hunting crime-solvers. They had neither a mystery machine nor a right to just assume he was hiding a dark secret. Even if he sorta was. And...yeah...maybe if they went to the boardwalk again, there was a slight chance they'd get their throats torn out, but...but...well...shit.

"What happened. On. The. Boardwalk?" Edgar ground out, tilting his head up as the blood had begun to rush to it, thanks to his awkward sitting position.

"And don't give us that lemonade bullshit!" Alan warned, pushing himself up on his elbows and sneering.

Sam paused in thought. "...You clearly underestimate how much I like lemonade."

The Frog brothers just...stared at him. And that's when he began to break into a nervous sweat.

"Cause...y'know...my grandma loved lemonade. Before she died, she made me promise to drink a glass every night in her honor. It's the only thing I have to remember her by..."

They continued to stare at him, and he took a nervous gulp.

"...I...have...a deathly fear of scurvy."

Still more staring.

"OKAY!" He finally cracked. "The truth...which I am about to tell you...in great detail, with no pauses, no lies, no deception...is..."

The phone rang.

Oh thank god! Sam leaped off of the couch and practically flew out of the room. He didn't even pause to pretend to apologize.

Edgar and Alan watched him go.

"...He's good..." Edgar intoned, frowning and pulling himself up into a sitting position, scuffing the leather of the chair in the process, leaving a streak of grass and mud on the arm.

"Oh...We'll get him..." Alan lay back down on the ground. Already the wheels in his brain were turning again. There was no way Sam could get out of telling them what happened when he was finished with his phone call. Absolutely. No. Way.

"Heeeeeey, killer," a high-pitched voice greeted over the phone, breaking slightly. She had a very...squeaky voice. And a dangerously thick Midwest accent.

"...Hi," Sam replied, scratching the back of his neck as he leaned against the kitchen wall by the window and shifted the phone onto his shoulder. He liked Roxanne. He really did. That was why he classified her as a 'girlfriend'. But...he didn't like to hear her talk.

"Listen, Sammy, I was just looking at your cards here. I'm sitting in the den, and so far...totally rocking reading, right?"

"...Right."

"...And then...BAM!"

Sam jumped, shifting the phone again.

"...BAM!" Roxanne repeated, snorting after she repeated it, as if she freaking knew she'd managed to startle him. "...Bad signs. I'm talking death. I'm talking chalices. I'm talking stuff that doesn't look good...are you following me?"

"I thought you stopped doing card readings?"

"I did. Then I started again. Come on, killer, keep up!" She snorted again, then broke into a short fit of high giggles. God, he hated that laugh.

"Why did you call me, Roxie?"

"Oh, right. Yes. Bad stuff. Cards. Aaaaand...you wanna go out tonight?"

"I thought you weren't getting back from your uncle's until August," Sam was beginning to get worried. He liked Roxanne. He really did. But combining her with the Frogs in one sitting...didn't seem like a very sane idea.

"...I came back early. So...boardwalk...go out...date...yes?" She raised her voice at the last word, as if he was in serious danger of bodily injury if he said no.

"I...I don't know, Roxie. I've got some friends over."

"Bring 'em! We can rock the town! Paint the town red! Get our grooooooves on! Y'know, I never get to meet any of your friends. It's like you don't want them to know you've got such a sexy piece on your arm," Roxanne shouted playfully, far too excited to let him have a choice in the matter.

"...They're...they're different. I don't think you wanna meet them."

"I'll pick you up tonight, ciao, seeya, and bye-byeeeeee!" And then, there was a dial tone.

Sam slowly placed the phone on the hook, frowning. Maybe he had some kind of deep-seated psychological issues that actively drove him to seek out crazy people. Even Star had thought Roxanne was a little odd, and this was the same girl who lived with a pack of vampires for several weeks in a musty cave. Speaking of which...now that he knew without a doubt that Mike and the others were actually 'alive'...going to that cave was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. So, granted, his girlfriend was a bit wild...but she was a pretty good distraction.

David was the first to wake. Marko was the last. And they all had a lot to talk about.

When all of the boys had managed to gather in the lobby, Marko nestled on the couch wrapped in a blanket, they were at a loss for words. He didn't look quite as bad as Paul, but the skin on his face was peeling and puckered as if someone had given him a good dose of a lighter and a can of hairspray.

David tucked a cigarette in his mouth, but didn't light it. He was a little too distracted and frustrated right then to go through the motion. All the boys back together finally, and it looked like they weren't going to even last a week together if they kept this kind of crazy shit up. First Paul tries to bang the brainless pit ghoul, then Marko decides to simultaneously sleepwalk and get a tan.

"So, what was going through your mind, Marko?" David leaned his head back, keeping his eyes closed. Dwayne sat close to Marko, and Paul was walking around the fountain, balancing on the edge while Michael sat on one side quietly watching the rest of them with his arms crossed.

"...I had a nightmare," Marko replied. That caused everyone to jerk their heads towards them. Everyone except Michael, who avoided looking in his direction. As if he had something to hide.

"You had a dream?!" David hissed, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees, brows lowered. None of them dreamed. Vampires can't dream.

Marko shook his head, unsure what to even say, so he just didn't say anything. Paul, standing on one leg with his arms out, didn't even have a joke to throw in.

"So are we going to talk about the elephant in the room, finally, or are we just going to let it shit everywhere?" Dwayne asked, looking over at David.

"You aren't going anywhere near my brother," Michael interjected, growling.

"...Wasn't really talking about that, but if I run across the little fuck, I can't make any promises," Dwayne snapped back. He didn't like the tone Michael was using. As if he didn't have every right to wring Sam's neck and use his blood as sandwich spread.

Paul hopped down from the fountain and flopped down beside Michael, throwing an arm around his shoulder and leaning in to whisper in his ear, "don't worry, Mikey. The brat's safe. Davey would never hurt his sweet little Wifey's baby bro," he pinched Michael's cheek for emphasis, and got a hand full of fangs for his effort.

"AGH!" Paul yanked his hand from Michael's mouth and shook it, scowling. "Play nice, kids," David smirked, looking over at the two.

"I think we've got a ghost," Dwayne stated quietly, crossing his arms and leaning back against the couch and kicking one of his legs up onto the lip of a nearby oil drum. "...And it's fucking pissed."

David reached into his coat pocket, unable to find his matches, and quickly looked over at Michael. "Michael. Matches."

He might have argued if Dwayne hadn't just dropped a bomb like that. So...the dream he'd had about Star...it was really her?

David's eyebrows shot up and he frowned. "...You had a dream, too? And when were you going to tell the rest of the class?!"

Michael dug a small box of matches from his jacket pocket and tossed it towards David, refusing to meet his eyes. "...Didn't know it was a big deal."

"So you were just going to wait until one of us died...again...is that it?" David demanded, lighting his cigarette and taking a long pull.

"I said I didn't know it was a big deal!" Michael raised his voice, beginning to get irritated. How the hell did they expect him to know dreaming was apparently not normal?!

"Oh, I don't know, Michael...maybe the fact that you haven't had one since you started sleeping upside-down should have clued you in?" David replied to Michael's thought, and began to tap his foot against the cave floor. By his own standards, he was keeping his cool. But he was about to lose it, if Michael didn't watch it.

"Hey, I'm really loving the foreplay between you girls, but maybe someone wants to talk about the fact that one of us could die in the morning if we don't figure out a way to fix this shit? Hm? Does that sound like a good plan?" Marko waved his arm, getting their attention. His eyebrows had grown back by now, and some of the dead skin had sloughed away from his face, but he'd need more blood to completely heal. Paul did, too.

Dwayne lifted his wrist to his mouth and morphed, wordlessly tearing into the flesh to let a stream of crimson flow down his arm, and pulled Marko close to him. He didn't have to say anything, pretty soon the smaller vampire was chowing down.

"Oh, you'll give Marko some, but I have to grin and bear it, huh?" Paul whined, kicking back and leaning against the rusted chandelier that sat inside the fountain.

Dwayne shrugged in response. "You had it coming. Marko was a victim. You're just an idiot."

"So...the ghost probably isn't Star, right? I mean, I had a dream about her...but it could just be...pretending to be her, right?" Michael asked hopefully, not even really convincing himself. He avoided looking at David, because he just knew if they made eye contact...one of them was going to lose his temper. It was just one of those nights.

"Oh, it's her alright. And she's a fucking tease..." Marko whispered in their minds, keeping his lips firmly latched to Dwayne's wrist as he kept drinking.

Paul licked his lips longingly, watching the display. "This is bad, yeah. Really, I mean it...but...can we maybe talk about it after I get a bite to eat?"

"Sounds like a plan." Dwayne agreed as he pulled his wrist away from Marko's grasp and licked away the last bit of clotted blood as it healed. "Anybody got any ideas how to get rid of Star without a priest?"

"...Do we have to get rid-" Michael didn't even finish the thought. They were all glaring at him even before he 'voiced' it.