I write so much other stuff now but I think I'll always end up coming back to my dear OTP that inspired me to write at the start - these two bats.

-YD-

Vlad was nervous. He wasn't often nervous these days... or should he say, he hadn't been until Ingrid came back into his life and rocked his carefully constructed but incredibly boring world.

Bertrand would be there any minute now, and Vlad hadn't seen the man since his wedding. Aside from his father - who no longer visited him now Ingrid lived in his castle - Vlad had scarcely seen a soul from before he married Adze.

Now his old tutor... old friend even, maybe, was about to be in the castle with him, and with Ingrid and their son. And Bertrand was observant and intelligent and Vlad felt certain the thick tension between he and Ingrid would be noticeable. It felt thick to him... Ingrid probably didn't notice. She hadn't come near him since his birthday and Vlad spent far too muc time just thinking about kissing her again. And again. And again.

Knock knock.

Vlad stepped up from where he had sat down after pacing anxiously before, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt about seeing his old teacher. Bertrand didn't look to have changed a bit, other than perhaps no longer using product to relax his curly hair and the messy locks gave him the youthful appearance back. He bowed his head, babbled some Latin and kept his eyes downcast as he came back up.

"Your Grandness."

"Bertrand. Come in. Once you are, call me Vlad. You kn-... Title is too formal for my home."

Bertrand stepped in, a briefcase in hand probably containing plenty of historical material with which to bore Vlad's unknowing son into a stupor.

"Adam's this way."

The boy was waiting, looking adorably studious and not nearly as bored as Vlad would have done when he was getting tutored.

"Adam, this is Bertrand du Fortunesa. He's your History and Bloody Battles teacher. Bertrand, meet Adam Dracula. Ingrid's son."

Bertrand was silent for a heart-starting moment, eyes scanning Adam's young face. For a second, his eyes turned back to Vlad.

"Yes, I see the resemblance."

Did he know?

Vlad made to leave; Ingrid adamantly refused to let Vlad loiter during tutoring. That was her job, and she undoubtedly was on her way.

"Vlad?"

He turned back, looking expectantly at Adam.

"Yes?"

"Can I still help with dinner?"

"If your class and work are done. Remember what your mother said."

Adam still smiled, then picked up his pen.

"Tutoring comes first, I know."

"Good."

Ingrid pushed past Vlad to get into the room, brushing a hand over her sons hair and sitting quite obviously in a chair in the corner with a book. Vlad knew how she worked now; the book was for show, and her son was never left alone with a stranger. That was a half-compliment for Vlad, as he was permitted to be alone with Adam...

Ingrid confused him.

Bertrand was quiet and polite, firm and patient as he spent the three hour tutoring block with Adam (Vlad may or may not have hung around to listen for an hour), and he didn't hang around unnecessarily when done. Simply bade them farewell and said he would return the next week. Vlad felt personally honoured when Adam's first thought afterward was if he had time to help Vlad with dinner now.

"Mum I'll do my homework after, promise!"

Vlad still expected her to say no, but apparently Adam had mastered Dracula puppy eyes and she eventually nodded, a shadow of a smile when Adam beamed, thanked her and threw his little arms around her waist for a hug. He hopped up after Vlad to go to the kitchen, chattering away as they cooked.

"Did you know Bertrand before?"

"I did. He was my tutor before I was married."

"Huh. What did he teach you?"

"Mostly combat, training my powers. Some vampire history... he knows pretty much everything."

Adam giggled, finishing pouring ingredients into the correct tray.

"Is he always so..."

"Stoic? Serious?"

Adam shook his head, picking a bit of vegetable off his hand.

"I was gonna say funny. He pulls funny faces and his hair is all bouncy."

Vlad couldn't help smiling, wondering what Bertrand would think of the boys opinion of him. Then his mind went back to that icy stare Bertrand had fixed him with, the fear he recognised something that told Vlad was Adam's father. He wouldn't be surprised if Bertrand had known about Vlad and Ingrid back then; he was observant and intelligent.

"What does mum like to eat? I see her eat stuff, but she never looks that excited about it."

Wracking his mind, Vlad mentally inventoried his kitchen and smiled to himself.

"I can teach you how to make the only thing I know she really likes?"

"Really?"

"So long as you promise never to try it alone, she would have my dust if you hurt yourself."

Adam nodded, eyes wide and pleading until Vlad got him to wash his hands, then proceeded to teach him how to bake a chocolate and blood-orange cake, the deep red sponge coated in a thick, sickly sweet chocolate glaze that dripped over the edges like blood. Vlad had sometimes made it for himself when he was acutely lonely, eating the whole thing until he was horrendously sick.

It was set just in time for after dinner, and Adam proudly presented it to Ingrid with a wide, hopeful smile.

"Vlad said it was the only thing he knew was your favourite. That and something to do with kidneys, but he said I'm too young for those."

For a second, Ingrid seemed lost for words. Naturally, she recovered quickly and thanked Adam, dragging a pale finger through some chocolatey goo puddled at the side and sucking it into her mouth. Adam noticed nothing amiss; Vlad almost whimpered.

"It's good. You want to try some?"

Of courseIngrid would find a way to turn it into a torture. Adam giggled to himself when Ingrid held her thumb out covered in the chocolate, probably confused as well as amused.

"Vlad already tried some when we were making it."

Ingrid turned to Adam, none of the smoulder or challenge in her eyes when looking at their son.

"Tastes different when it's set. Why not cut yourself a slice and try it?"

Either she trusted Adam's own sense of portion control, or pushing Vlad's limits was worth a sickly seven year old. When Adam turned away, Vlad couldn't resist letting his tongue lap up the sticky mess on her skin and he had to bite back a whine as he tasted the rich sweetness over Ingrid's skin. Her eyes were ablaze; she knew what she was doing to him.

They both turned when Adam dropped a plate, shattering the moment between them as well as the ceramic.

"Oops, sorry!"

"It's fine Adam, just step back so I can clear it."

"But it's my mess."

"Yes, but you have to pick it up. I don't."

Adam watched as Vlad swept his hand in a lazy side gesture, then followed the movement as the broken kitchenware lifted from the ground and floated across to the bin where Vlad dropped it.

"That was cool!"

He looked genuinely enthralled; a boy in awe of powers he himself would gain, maybe even more so than expected as he was half Chosen One.

"Thanks."

Adam eventually managed to get a (surprisingly child-size portion) slice of cake on to a plate, sitting back at the table blissfully unaware of the heat that currently burned between Vlad and Ingrid. He wouldn't put it past Ingrid to be doing it just to get at Vlad, but part of her was a little affected, he could tell. Her pupils dilated when his tongue was on her thumb, a near imperceptible shiver ran through her body when Vlad's hungry gaze raked over her.

It could only end one of two ways.

Either one of them broke; or they both burned together.

Vlad was on edge the last hours of the night until Adam went to bed, painfully aroused and with little reprieve when Ingrid followed Adam to watch him play chess with Vlad. He was never any good at chess anyway; with Ingrid's distracting presence, Adam soundly thrashed him repeatedly.

When Ingrid left the room, returning with more of the sweet treat, Vlad could have cried. A vampire could only take so much. Forcing himself to keep his voice even, Vlad looked at her.

"Careful not to get crumbs on the sofa."

"When have you ever known me to be a messy eater?"

Ingrid's eyes flashed with challenge, but Vlad did have an answer for it.

"Valentines Disco, Stokely Castle. You threw a table."

He was careful not to delve too deep into the topic - Will was not something the two had ever talked about, not even on that last night before Vlad and their father left Stokely, where he and Ingrid shared a final messy, angry encounter before they spent four years apart. Adam broke the severity of the moment, chuckling.

"Did you really?"

Ingrid's eyes flashed dangerously at Vlad - he was in trouble. Figuring he was as good as dust now anyway, he grinned and continued.

"She also accidentally blew up the entire sound system."

Adam started laughing properly, forcing an unwilling smile onto Ingrid's face. She couldn't resist her sons happiness.

"That was... an accident. I was close to transforming."

Adam continued chuckling even as he moved his chess piece, grinning as he declared victory.

"Checkmate! That's six-nothing to me."

Bats, Adam sounded just like their dad then. More of the '100% Dracula' written all over him. Adam yawned into his hand, looking sheepish as though hoping he could get out of his child bed time.

"Be glad I'm not making you do your homework tonight. Bed!"

Only pouting slightly, Adam got to his feet.

"Night mum, night Vlad."

With Adze absent again - Adam had quickly learnt not to ask or complain about that - he was safe to walk to his bedroom alone, no fears anyone could intrude or threaten him. Ingrid watched as Vlad silently packed up the chess set, the tension palpable but Vlad wouldn't, couldn't make the first move for fear he would be shot down. He couldn't jeopardise Adam's life there.

"What was this" Ingrid indicated the cake "all about? Trying to score points?"

"No! Adam wanted to know if there was anything you really liked to eat, because you never looked like you enjoyed food. It wasn't for you; it was for him."

Vlad didn't deny that he had gained from it in some way, but ultimately it had been to see his son smile. He couldn't predict Ingrid well enough to know how she would take things.

"Least you can still cook."

"Blood and garlic, was that a compliment?"

"Don't push it."

Vlad fell silent, wondering how long before he could escape to his coffin to deal with the erection that had been aching with need for what felt like years by now. Ingrid apparently had different plans, beckoning him over to the sofa she was lounging on. His legs moved with no consult from his brain, carrying him across the room.

Ingrid's breath smelled sweet and rich as it fanned across his cheek, dead heart somehow feeling like it would still beat clean out of his chest as she leant in closer. Vlad was torn; he both wanted to kiss her senseless, and wanted to halt her movement and demand some sort of clarity about what Ingrid was doing with him.

His body won over his brain when Ingrid's lips touched his, the taste of orange and chocolate immediately filling his senses as she wrapped a hand loosely around the side of his neck, kissing him and holding him in place like Vlad had anywhere else in the world to be in that moment. Those soft little sounds in the back of her throat pulled him closer, not realising he had even moved until Ingrid was beneath him lengthways, bodies tightly aligned and she wasn't putting up any resistance.

Was he dreaming?

Probably.

Then Ingrid's teeth scraped over his lower lip, nipping right at that sensitive spot she had discovered years ago and Vlad realised it was no dream as a little pain jolted him. Her fingers buried themselves in his hair, her tongue tasting his mouth over and over until Vlad's head was spinning. He didn't have to breathe; Ingrid still made him feel breathless.

The front door of the castle slammed loudly and Ingrid away moved so fast it was as if Vlad had burned her. How she got from beneath him was a mystery as he hit the cushions, aroused beyond belief and thrumming with the closeness. His scalp tingled where her fingers had been, mouth on fire with her taste. He barely managed to look at her again for a second where she stood several feet away from him, face thunderous as she spat the words out.

"Your wife is home."

Then she was gone and Vlad could have punched a hole clean through the castle wall in frustration. His trousers felt suffocating, though the thought of Adze being nearby was enough to soften him a little. He was left somewhat confused; Ingrid knew he was married, hadn't cared a bit for it on his wedding day nor his most recent birthday. She hadn't mentioned Erin once back when they were regularly sharing a coffin.

So what was different that night?

He could understand not wanting to be caught by Adze, but that didn't feel like the problem. Ingrid had seemed genuinely angry to be reminded of his bloodwife. Wiping his mouth in case of lipstick transfer, Vlad tried to pat his hair back down to lay flat and adjusted himself to hide his still noticeable arousal.

Attempting to look like he was just cleaning up for bed, Vlad picked up the plate Ingrid had left behind, heading to the kitchen where Adze was confusingly present - her quarters included a blood cellar and she rarely actually ate outside of events. She was eyeing the cake on the side as though it had personally offended her, turning to Vlad the second he walked into the kitchen.

"How very domestic."

He tried to force his irritation back, but Vlad was just too tightly wound.

"Ingrid hates cooking. Adam likes it. I like cooking. It makes sense for me to teach him, that way if he ends up with somebody who has your kitchen skills he won't starve."

"Are you saying cooking is a woman's job now?"

Vlad was probably the least sexist vampire on the planet. Adze never seemed to get that though; most would expect her to be tending to his sexual needs no matter how repulsive she found him. Vlad technically had the right to demand sex from her, but his skin crawled at the very idea even without not wanting to touch Adze.

"Don't put words in my mouth. No, I said somebody, not some girl. You're the one who doesn't eat anyway. I'm not teaching him for sexism, I'm teaching him for fun. I am allowed to spend time with my nephew Adze."

He hated using the word nephew, ached to claim the boy as his own. But he couldn't hand Adze that sort of ammunition. Vlad put the leftover cake into a cake tub carefully, then placed it in the fridge. Adam had liked it; it was worth keeping even if it would only remind Vlad of Ingrid's bone-shaking kisses.

"Whatever you say."

"I say you're pissed, because Shango doesn't want you anywhere near his daughter so you have no clue what it's like, and that you wouldn't know a caring instinct if it jumped up and staked you. Don't you have someone elses castle to skulk around? A coffin to warm?"

Vlad's only leverage against Adze was that she didn't want her infidelity publicised. It didn't matter that everyone knew, so long as appearances were maintained. If Vlad could prove her indiscretions, Adze would be disgraced for disrespecting their bloodbinding. And it wouldn't take much, not when Adze spent five days out of seven away and Vlad highly doubted all that time was at her fathers. So while she would continue to make his unlife difficult, she wouldn't kick up a public spectacle about anything he said.

"Watch it."

"Adze. You seem to be forgetting just who I am. I'm the Grand High Vampire, the most powerful vampire to have ever been unborn" Vlad felt like an absolute ass pushing this, but Adze had refused to listen to reason or leave him be "and I could wipe out your entire clan without breaking a sweat, then remarry without a blink. Don't. Threaten. Me."

Vlad would never wipe out the Ramanga clan completely; he actually quite liked Assan, what little he saw of him anyway, and Shango had a six year old daughter - it would take a dire threat for Vlad to take a father from a child.

But Adze didn't need to know that.

She bared her fangs and flitted away violently enough to make the room rattle, the only upside to their conversation being the absolute murder of Vlad's previously burning libido. Sighing to himself and scrubbing a hand through his hair, Vlad finished cleaning up and sighed some more. Turning with the intention of hitting his coffin, he almost leapt out of his skin when he found Ingrid standing there.

She didn't say a word, held a finger to her fangs and indicated for Vlad to follow her. Starting to get whiplash from her back and forth, hot and cold temperament toward him, he followed. Ingrid led him to her room, mind calculating whether or not she had chosen not to have her room directly next to Adam's so the boy wouldn't hear...

"Hang on, not long ago you basically threw me off toward Adze."

Ingrid rolled her eyes, pushing her bedroom door closed behind him.

"I was annoyed she interrupted."

Vlad didn't believe her, but he wasn't sure why he didn't.

"Interrupted what? You've been pulling my chain and then knocking me back since you got here. I'm getting dizzy from all these one eighty turns."

"I'm changeable. That shouldn't be news."

Vlad wished for self control as Ingrid backed him up against the wall, unable to suppress his anticipation entirely as she closed in on him, barely a breath between their bodies. She made it so hard to think, let alone question.

"No, but it's different now."

"How?"

"Ingrid, you had our son. I have to tread on eggshells around you for a decade so you don't change your mind about having him here-"

"I won't."

She cut him off, placing her fingers across his lips and continuing.

"You might piss me off so much I never speak to you again, but you are not important enough to come between me and what's best for my son."

He didn't miss the emphasis on 'my', nor her candid words of him not being important. Vlad hated how needy he was, how easy it was to let Ingrid knock at his worth to her and still have how badly he wanted to kiss her at the forefront of his baser instincts.

"So... you promise you'll stay until he grows up?"

"I don't make promises... but that's the plan."

Vlad guessed it was the best he could ask for, Ingrid's mouth back on his and his mind utterly blank a minute later.

-YD-

I'm so mean to Vlad!