Started writing this before RTB was finished, so my dear readers were never without a Vlad/Ingrid story.

This is pretty different to Rules To Bend though.

Premise - no season five, alternate ending to Season Four in not finding out Malik was their brother (because at this point in my story plan it's irrelevant... might change but who knows), and Vlad and Adze got married with no murder attempt.

This is set a few years after all that. Vlad's Grand High Vampire, and the ceasefire with the Slayers is still active. I'll drop in explanations for things throughout rather than clog up the authors note like I'm doing now...

I think that's everything. On we go!

-YD-

Tossing his heavy cloak and robes aside for the weekly laundry service, Vlad dropped rather inelegantly into the nearest seat and dug his hand beneath the sofa for his bottle of soya blood. Cease-fire or not, his wife hated his soy drinking.

Stifling the snort that often accompanied that thought, Vlad couldn't see fang nor hair of his dear spouse except for the ornate, almost clunky ring on his finger. He shoved the ring back in his pocket, not wanting to look at it.

Vlad wasn't naive, he knew Adze had only wanted to bind with him for one reason. The bite. When Vlad had lied and said his bite had gone on some random peasant in his one 'slip' after turning sixteen, Adze had obviously decided she liked the perks that came with being the bloodwife of the Chosen One, mrs Grand High Vampire.

Those perks were all that stopped her staking him in his sleep, Vlad was sure.

However, despite the quiet from the Guild, the mellow hum of vampire life... the VHC still weren't happy. Because Vlad's 'perfect match' marriage was still missing something that the vampire world grew ever more eager to see - Vlad had no heir. The fatal flaw in that was that aside from the necessary 'consummation' night... Vlad and Adze only touched each other for public appearances.

It wasn't a lack of sex drive, Vlad knew from his many personal relief sessions and his surety that Adze was cheating on him. Nor was it specifically appearance... outwardly, Adze was probably out-of-his-league attractive, with her thick curves, flawless chocolate skin and naturally full lips.

Internally was another matter. Adze made demeaning comments about Vlad that would bother him if her opinion mattered, and she gnashed her fangs in silent irritation whenever Vlad mentioned the peace treaty, or even whenever his dad came over to Transylvania to visit. Ramanga came and went as he pleased, but if Vlad didn't warn his wife at least a week in advance of his fathers flighty visits... the resulting cold shoulder was no punishment, but she would always do something to get back at him. Burn a report, smash a soy bottle, threaten to destroy the nearest village... just, something.

And that was on a good day.

There was another issue. The one where Adze wasn't the one who had crimson nails that clawed at his shirt, she wasn't in the memory of new fangs crushing against his tender lower lip-

Stop it Vlad.

He wasn't allowed to think of that. Wasn't allowed the memories of pale thighs around his hips, of sucking a pouting lower lip between his own, of soft whimpers muffled against his neck or of fingers clutching in his hair.

They agreed - it never happened.

Lucifer, he hadn't even seen Ingrid since his wedding day. Since she took out her frustration about something on him in his wedding suit... Vlad suspected it had had something to do with that Malik character. But Ingrid hadn't said, and he hadn't asked. Just let her go for his belt, pushed up her dress and wished more than anything he didn't have to go through with marrying Adze.

"Don't be such an idiot Vlad. This is just burning off steam... and it's over. This never happened."

He had put himself out there, and Ingrid had shot him down. It hadn't been love, but hell it had been good. Sibling rivalry with happy endings. But when Vlad had said he would rather be with her than Adze, Ingrid closed off completely.

She had threatened to leave before he even got married, but Vlad had asked her to stay to the end. Ingrid agreed, but she had a condition.

"Say it."

"This never happened."

That had been worse to say than 'I do'. But true to her word, Ingrid stayed. And he hadn't seen her since. Before the smoke cleared from the exploding cake (Renfield!), Ingrid vanished. Even Malik had looked confused.

But Vlad had a life to get on with. A job. A race to govern. He couldn't stay hung up on great sex with his sister that nobody knew about. And there he was, thinking about it.

It never happened.

Sighing, Vlad hoped Adze hadn't been around to see him sporting a hard on for soya substitute, the plastic bottle in his hand splintering in his distracted, tight-knuckled grip. It had been... almost eight years to the day. His father never mentioned Ingrid, obviously, but with his wedding anniversary often came the thoughts he kept trying to ignore.

A twenty-five year old immortal who already couldn't wait to die of old age.

His unlife was monotonous, dull and if it weren't for the sake of the cease-fire, keeping the peace, Vlad would probably track Ingrid down, beg her for one last time and stake himself before he died of boredom.

Dragging himself upright, Vlad cleaned up the soya mess and headed for the shower. It was futile to try to will away an erection he had gotten thinking of Ingrid. Which pretty much all of them were. Locking the door, he flicked on the hot water - one small vice of his, pretending to be warm for a while - and stripped down, stepped beneath the spray.

His hand wrapped around his erection, memories replacing it with Ingrid's hand, Ingrid's mouth on him. His own quiet gasps became Ingrid's soft moans in his mind, the mental images alone more than enough to have Vlad spilling over his hand, washing the shameful reminders away quickly and hurrying through the rest of the shower.

Hellfire, he needed to get over it. Ingrid was out of his life and unlikely to return. He had a species to govern, a race to protect. Moping over losing a causal if intense sexual relationship with his sister was pathetic.

Even so... Ingrid was always the image in his mind when he came. No matter how he tried to fight it, to make masturbation a functional act. Nothing was functional when it came to her.

The eight year anniversary of seeing Ingrid for the last time - and his wedding but that wasn't really important - rolled up and over Vlad like a steamroller. He spent the entire night shirking responsibilities and got utterly trashed on ethanol-laced soy blood, pathetically vomiting into the early hours of dawn. Adze wasn't even in the castle... which said a great deal about the state of their marriage. Their eternal marriage that wasn't a decade old.

It had always been a sham though.

Vlad was certain the VHC knew it, their low sly digs about the lack of an heir and some of them Vlad absolutely knew Adze had fucked behind his back. He just didn't care. Unfortunately... they did.

"This rush to have me sire an heir is all terribly pressuring. I'm not even fifty. Lucifer, I'm not even thirty. Unless you're planning to kill me and raise my kid instead as a key to power, I don't see the rush."

"With all due respect Your Grandness" Vlad almost snorted, they didn't respect him, just feared he would dust them "it's about image. You're the leader of our world."

"I refuse to be bullied into fatherhood."

This argument had hashed back and forth for the past five years now, and there were still no Dracula babies.

Or so Vlad thought.

"Which is why we have taken steps to assure the Dracula line and your Chosen One title are connected as closely as possible."

"How, exactly?"

"It's not ideal, but your sister has a son."

Vlad dropped his goblet, soy splattering up the robes of his loitering security guard Father Tollund. He didn't even flinch.

"She what?"

"I take it you were unaware of your nephew."

"You could say that. I've not seen Ingrid" even her name hurt "since... my binding day. I got busy and she left. It happens."

His mind was racing. Ingrid had a child?

"Well, then the good news is you're about to be reunited. It has been decided she and the Dracula heir will reside with you until the boys eighteenth birthday, in order to ensure he is never far from the Blood Mirror and therefore his future."

"You can't just move people into my home."

If Vlad didn't protest, someone may notice how desperately he wanted to see Ingrid again. Even if she had another mans child. It wasn't really important, their 'relationship' had only ever been sexual anyway.

Tasting lies and washing them down with a fresh glass of soy, Vlad waited for the stammering Maras to say something.

"If your bloodwife produces you an heir, then you can decide to move them on, but until then we must ensure your line continues. Even if only in name, to ensure if your father passes on that you won't have additional duties."

"Even if I agreed to this - which I haven't - Ingrid would never agree to it."

"Shows what you know."

It was lucky Vlad wasn't holding anything, because it meant he could hide his suddenly trembling hands beneath the table as that voice, the one that haunted his dreams and fuelled his self-pleasure filled the air. Vlad turned around, eyes landing immediately on the source of the voice.

Lucifer, she hadn't changed a bit. Her hair still swept down past her shoulders, framing a face that could convey seduction and beauty alongside just about every other expression possible. Heels that made her legs look impossibly long, clothes so black she could fade away into shadows and those nails, the crimson peaks of fingers that used to bury themselves in his hair.

"Granted, they have been pestering me for the better part of a year and I just assumed my little brother might finally do his duties to his clan. But apparently not, so I agreed for my sons sake. You know my terms boys."

Vlad turned back to his council for a minute, finding almost every single one of their faces slightly dumbstruck as they essentially ogled Ingrid. No wonder she had gotten them to agree to her terms rather than the other way around.

"Indeed Miss Dracula. It was most gracious of you to agree to step in where your brother has failed."

"I realise you are falling victim to your base instincts Kray, but do try to remember who your actual boss is."

The members of the council snapped out of their Ingrid-reverie, and Vlad didn't need to look to know Ingrid was revelling in her control over a room the Grand High Vampire was sat in. Vlad didn't know what was worse - being tormented by Ingrid twenty four seven, or having both Ingrid and Adze under one roof.

This was an assassination attempt with no time limit, Vlad decided.

"There will be staff waiting to prepare rooms for Miss Dracula and her son upon your return. They have express instructions never to return, your wishes not to have a full house staff are still be honoured."

"Oh yeah, I can see what I want is really important right now."

"You've had eight years Your Grandness, we had to act."

"No you didn't, you're just bored and get a kick out of messing with my life. Fine, whatever. Not like my castle isn't big enough." Vlad stood up, steeling himself for proximity to Ingrid "there's a weekly cleaning and laundry service. The rest of the time, you're responsible for your own quarters. I guess I'll be seeing you soon. Meeting dismissed."

Vlad had never left the VHC so fast, realising halfway along his flight home that now he had to tell Adze. As predicted, she waited for the staff to be guided to the West Wing that Vlad scarcely ventured to for anything but the Library, maintaining decorum until they were alone.

"How could you agree to such a thing?"

"I didn't! They told me it was happening, and while this is the Grand High Domicile it still technically belongs to the VHC. They'll be in the West Wing, you're never here and when you are it's in the East Wing, with your own Blood Cellar. I'll be surprised if you two ever cross paths."

"You're pathetic, honestly. Head of all vampire clans and being pushed around by your own underlings."

"Oh do shut up Adze, you're my wife not my boss. And you're on the line for this too, this lack of kids is a two person dance. I allow you your freedom and your indiscretions, you can at least leave me to deal with my sister."

Adze scowled, baring her fangs and Vlad envisioned angry looks from Ramanga on his next visit as his wife complained about their dysfunctional, ridiculous marriage where Vlad left her to cheat on him, benefit from his title and his money, and let her feast on all the old vintage she could desire so long as nobody was being killed for it. And yet he still wasn't doing enough apparently.

The staff made short work of transforming two empty rooms - nearby but not alongside each other, apparently at Ingrid's request though Vlad had no clue why - into living quarters for an adult vampiress and her young son. Vlad didn't trust Adze a jot and his dusty, dulled family instincts had him deciding to fit an alarm system to protect his nephew from his wife.

He put it in as soon as the staff left, knowing now he had only the space of daylight until Ingrid and her son - he didn't even know the boys name yet - arrived. Adze was off again, probably bedding some one else who had complained at Vlad's lack of heir, and probably knew it was because Vlad would rather castrate himself than have sex with his wife.

While Adze would rather drink soy blood than have sex with him. Their wedding night had been horrendous, an experience neither had ever mentioned or tried to repeat. It took Adze under a month to move into her own bedroom and it was the first decent nights sleep Vlad had gotten since their binding day.

He eventually went for sleep, knowing he would need all the energy he could get to deal with Ingrid, and meet her kid. He had no idea how old the boy was, though older than toddler was likely given the bed that the VHC staff had put in. There was a prospect niggling at him that Vlad refused to even humour, pushing it aside as he dressed for a long, weary night and attempted to tame his hair so Ingrid wouldn't know he had been tossing and turning in his coffin all day.

Feeling dangerously close to his heart starting again, Vlad paced and paced some more, waiting first for the sky to darken and then for the knock at the door he anticipated with a mix of fear, excitement he couldn't quash and sheer dread.

"Answering your own front door?"

"I hate having staff. I suppose I should invite you in."

Vlad leant against the doorframe to annoy her for a second, surreptitiously getting a look at the raven-haired boy next to her. He was all Dracula - cheekbones, blue eyes, slim frame. His clothes weren't as black as Vlad expected, a black jacket and jeans over a t-shirt with a bright green dragon on.

"Come on in. Adze isn't here at the minute. This way."

The boy followed silently as Vlad showed them to the assigned rooms, indicated the nearest bathrooms and quickest way to the library. Ingrid wouldn't look at him, but he still felt like her eyes were burning into him everytime he looked away.

"Who are you?"

"Depends. Grand High Vampire, Chosen One to most. Vladimir Dracula. Vlad to family, which includes you. And you?"

"Adam. Adam Dracula."

"Nice to meet you Adam."

Ingrid didn't interrupt them instantly, but once the introductions were done she sent him out of the way.

"Go get settled in Adam."

"Yes mum."

Adam turned away, pulling a large wheeled suitcase into his room behind him. Ingrid, ever the exhibitionist, had her own things floating alongside her. Vlad waited for her to come back out, hearing her lazily levitate things into their assigned places through the door that was still ajar. Adam's door was closed, which surprised him less.

"Are you going to loiter out there all night?"

"I needed to ask about food. I do most of the cooking, unless we're hosting. Is there anything Adam is allergic to, or won't eat? Or prefers to eat?"

Ingrid reappeared back at her door, surveying Vlad closely before beckoning him inside. His body went without consult from his brain, standing warily near the doorway in case he needed to run for his life.

"Don't even think of trying to get involved in my sons life."

"I'm asking what he eats for dinner. Not trying to be his father."

"Keep it that way."

The niggle grew stronger, tugging at Vlad's conscious thought and tingling with Ingrid's defensive stance.

"Ingrid... how old is he?"

Her head snapped up, eyes harsh and fiery.

"Don't."

Oddly enough, that didn't dissaude him. Stepping closer, Ingrid backed up, neck turning slightly and Vlad had to really work not to stare because Ingrid had the most flawless, perfect neck.

"How. Old. Is. He?"

"Seven."

"More precisely, seven years and three months?"

Ingrid didn't meet his eyes, and Vlad felt the realisation creep through his bones.

"Is he mine?"

"How can he be? Nothing happened."

-YD-

So... this won't be updated until Rules To Bend is finished, and is 99.9% going to end up M rated unless I completely abandoned the entire plan for the story.

But... here's the future story I promised.