You would think, when you have a scene in mind from the START of the fic that it would be one of the quickest, easiest ones to write?

You would be wrong.

-YD-

Ingrid followed him as they headed toward her home, questions visibly on her tongue but she didn't ask, and Vlad was glad of it. He was still hoping that the book was wrong, that he was wrong.

"Oh, hey kids. Wasn't expecting you back so early Ingrid."

"Wasn't my idea. What did you drag us down here for?"

Vlad swallowed thickly, doing his best not to turn and scan Ingrid for any familiar traits as he held out the portrait.

"I need to know if you recognise this picture."

Sally looked at him like he was bonkers, but she took the portrait from his shaky hand and looked down at it. It was a painting, since vampires didn't really photograph all that well, and it took her a minute to figure out the style of the artist, piece together the image.

"Oh!"

That sound was all the confirmation he needed, matching the flash of recognition in Sally's face.

"Where did you..."

"That's my father."

He didn't add the whole 'Count Dracula' bit. That would have been too much, he supposed. Sally looked up, eyes flicking between Vlad and Ingrid and he knew exactly what she was thinking; he was thinking the same things too.

"This is your father?"

"Yep. And, if I'm reading you right, he's also..."

"Yes. Oh my god... how is this possible?"

"Somebody please tell me what is going on?"

Vlad turned to Ingrid, wincing as he tried to pick words that were less blunt and finding none.

"My dad... is your dad."

The book had been adamant that the glass of the Blood Mirror would not respond to a non-Dracula, and so Vlad had to be sure.

"Well that... what?"

Vlad shrugged, turned to Sally. She frowned, looked between them again.

"How do you... how did you know Ingrid's father wasn't George's father?"

He opted for an answer that didn't include 'vampirism'.

"Ingrid told me. I uh... I should go."

Now he knew, Vlad wanted to leave. He needed to process that all the time he'd been pressed under Ingrid, her mouth hungry on his, her teeth at his throat, the taste of her scent on his tongue... every time he'd had hands on her body, when he'd watched her come undone at his touch?

She'd been his sister all along.

Ingrid was very clearly having similar thoughts. Sally probably assumed they'd done nothing more than kiss and hold hands shyly. Vlad found himself wishing that were true. He supposed it was lucky in a twisted sort of way that they hadn't gone further. Although he'd rather have lucked out and not been related to her to begin with, but he could hardly change that now.

"Wait!"

Vlad halted, looking at Sally.

"I'd... like to see him. If thats possible. Perhaps tell him he has a daughter."

"Uh. I... I'll see when he's free. Dad keeps odd hours."

He left. Ingrid and her mother could probably do with a talk, and Vlad was going to go home and possibly stake his father. As he climbed the hill, sickness burning in the back of his throat, Vlad mused for a minute that at least now they knew which Mirror Ingrid would need for her sixteenth birthday. No travel or coverup required.

"Dad!"

Despite his limited, human-like strength, Vlad shoved the door and it slammed closed with a violent, castle-rattling shake. He stormed through to the main room, waiting. Yawning, in his day clothes and dressing gown and obviously just roused by Vlad. the Count eyed him.

"What's all this garlic-awful noise? Are we being attacked by slayers?"

"You had a baby with a breather!"

His father had never woken up so fast.

"How dare you-"

"Don't! Even! Try! All this time... ugh!"

Despite the clear sky, there was a rumble of thunder and lightning outside. Vlad stilled, trying to work out if that was him. No. Not possible. He was too young. Right?

His world didn't quite make sense at the moment.

"So I might have had a dalliance- wait a moment. A baby! Are you telling me that there's a Dracula dimidius out there?"

"Yes! She has been in this castle! My girlfriend is your daughter!"

"Your what?"

"Well, I suppose now she isn't for obvious reasons, but yes. Ingrid is approaching transformation age, and when I realised she was a Dimidius I tried to help her figure out who her father was, for the sake of the Blood Mirror she'd need. And all this time, it wasn't necessary. Her father has been here all along!"

He was angry. Angry that his father had spent so long chiding Vlad about breathers, when he'd clearly gotten close for something other than a feed. Angry that he and Ingrid were... becoming something, at her glacial pace but he didn't care, because she was opening up to him.

Angry that he'd grown up lonely, never knowing he had a sibling.

And angry that girlfriend and sibling had to cross over in a way that said he could only have one. And it wasn't even his choice. He couldn't un-make Ingrid a Dracula. Which also brought to the fore that they would have to figure out what to do about Ingrid's family. Including his dad not outing them as vampires.

Blood, his brain hurt.

"Vladdy, you know we must get rid-"

"No! You did this. And once Ingrid transforms, nobody is going to know any different. You hurt her, I will ash you myself. This is your fault to begin with!"

There was a heavy, awkward silence broken only by Vlad's angry, huffing breaths and Renfield's occasional whimper of fear.

"So... how is Sally?"

"You remember her? I'm shocked."

The Count rolled his eyes, scoffing as he dramatically swooshed his dressing gown before lowering himself onto his throne.

"Of course I do! Whitby Goth Festival. Ah, she was lovely. She really could have passed for a vampire, ice white skin and all that goth makeup... I had no idea she had... I swear, Vladimir. I didn't know."

"I wish I could believe that."

-YD-

Ack! Writers block. Also Vlad is very angry and doesn't feel like story-telling. I am hoping he feels more cooperative next chapter.