Chapter Text
A couple of vampires lived an unusual life for their kind in the wilderness, not too far from human settlements, but enough not to attract attention to themselves. They didn't burn villages, didn't hunt humans every night, drinking their blood dry, and had little contact with vampires and other monsters. At the end of the 19th century, both of them changed their way of life. Including because they have now become husband and wife.
Dracula could hardly believe in the existence of his bachelor life before meeting Martha. After moving away from Vlad and settling in his own small mansion, which suited him in all criteria, he traveled a lot, had fun with friends and struck fear into humans who immediately resumed their unsuccessful hunt for him. Now he called it nothing but idleness. Over the years, several generations of famous Van Helsings have changed, he has gained strength and authority and ... realized that his life is not yet complete enough.
Now everything was going as well as possible. It cannot be said that he and Martha had any definite big plans for the future. They were enjoying the moment, here and now.
The small cozy kitchen was lit only by several thin candles on two candelabra, while Martha was cooking dinner there according to a recipe from an old recipe book that she had compiled herself. She had been doing this for many years, and the time had come when she could please someone with it by cooking the most successful of them.
Martha was slicing mushrooms for the pie when Drac appeared behind her with an anticipatory excited smile. He had just returned from a small outing to get more ingredients for his wife, and now he was waiting as patiently as he could. Showing that she noticed him, Martha turned her head slightly towards him, shaking her curls.
"I'm back, my darling!" he chanted in high spirits, smoothly clasping her elbows. "What do we have now?"
"It only remains to bake, Drac," she laughed, "are you really that hungry?"
"Well, as for you, I'm always hungry..." he confessed with adoring, but in a second choked nervously. "I mean, I really want to! Uh... Better forget that!"
Martha couldn't help but smile sweetly as she squatted down to check the heat in the oven. "Honey, it's okay! You always say the right things when you say them from the bottom of your heart..."
"Oh, yeah?" Dracula clasped his lowered hands and slightly twitched his shoulders, laughing shamefacedly. "I guess you're right, yeah!"
"Why don't you invite Vlad over for dinner sometime?" Martha got up again, returning for the pie, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. His eyes widened at the question.
"Maybe not now, honeybat. He's pretty busy, you know," Drac evaded a clear answer. "And speaking of food, he's usually not that hungry, hehe!"
"Drac, let's face it, you're a grown man," she closed the oven door and tilted her head, pausing a little. "However, I suppose after our wedding he may feel a little like a third wheel."
The Count sighed, realizing that in this matter he wouldn't argue with his zing. He sat down at the table, crossed his arms on the tabletop, and clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "Yes, I'm pretty sure he does, coffin cake," he began reasoning in a raspy drawling voice, "and I love Dad, but... I have a feeling that we're going to have a fall out again."
Martha felt where his thoughts were going, and left her place at the stove, sitting down opposite and catching his confused gaze on her. "Why are you so sure? Only a month has passed since the wedding, during which we and him kept in touch only with a couple of letters, because it was a honeymoon..." She smiled in solidarity, seeing how her husband was immersed in pleasant memories, but immediately continued the topic, "Personally, I think at the ceremony you two were acting just the sweetest."
"Heh, it was expected of him..." Drac fell silent and propped his head on his hands, watching the wax dripping from the candles. Despite the fact that his love was with him, he drifted away somewhere in the memories associated with the past. Vlad didn't seem to be of such paramount importance in his current life, and their rare meetings were more awkward than welcome. Perhaps he got used to the privacy of his life with Martha too quickly. "What about our friends? Didn't you want to invite them?"
"Of course, I know we all miss each other," she took his hand and laced their fingers together. Dracula looked at her as if expecting wise thoughts. "By the way, how about inviting them all at once? I mean, your dad too."
"Oh, no, no, no, no!" he shook his head in reject, gesturing comically. "In this case, our communication will initially fail!" Martha, after a little thought, nodded in agreement.
"Anyway, it would be rude if we didn't invite either the guys or your father. Think about it, honey, life will never consist only of you and me, will it?" Martha stood up and patted him on the shoulder. "We are all alone here, and my world is truly perfect with you in it, but we must not forget about them either."
Drac looked at her with wide-open eyes, absorbing every word, and found that he was awakening longing for moments that were not yet about Martha, but infinitely precious to him. With the advent of Martha in the family, the number of such moments was only going to grow. This secluded place, in which they settled, became for them a hideaway from dangers, but not a restriction. It wasn't meant to be.
He got up from the table and took her hands in his, looking out the window. The forest around them stood as a reliable protective wall, and the growing moon shone from the sky surrounded by several stars, and everything felt like so friendly to them. This night wasn't over yet, but Dracula was already looking forward to the next one, thanks to the most gold-hearted woman next to him. "Okay, my blood orange, when should we invite Vlad and the guys? Separately."
Martha giggled softly at his clarification, and they exchanged knowing smiles. "Hmmm, why delay, right? We will send letters to Vlad and Frank before dawn to invite the guys tomorrow, and your dad the night after tomorrow."
"Oh, Martha, you're just reading my mind!" Drac cheered up and enthusiastically kissed her. "I definitely need some support from friends before I see you-know-who..."
"Draaac," she crossed her arms reproachfully and pursed a lip.
"Okay, okay, I just meant to say that sometimes he overdoes it... This dramatic entrance... " The Count held out his palms conciliatingly.
Martha glanced at the pendulum clock in the corner. Judging by them, there were ten minutes left before the end of baking the pie. She rolled up the sleeves of her dress and winked at her husband, who would have completely forgotten about food if not for the tempting smell of mushrooms and spices. "Hey, we still have time before it's ready! Would you like to choose something that the guys and Vlad like, to cook for them?"
"Um, I... don't know..." he suddenly hesitated. "Don't you already have some ideas, honeyfangs?"
She led Drac to the cooking table and confidently handed the book lying on it. "Well, maybe someone would like to try monster ball soup... It's easy enough to cook it. Just flour, vegetables, spices and, as always a little magic."
"Sounds great," he hugged her from the side and took off his cape, which restrained the movements of his hands. "You know, with your guidance, even Dad with his unique gift of burning any edible thing to ashes will be able to cook something! It will be long, though..."
Martha rolled her eyes and resumed her manipulations with slicing food. He was incorrigible, but he only changed for the better with her. And things continued to go uphill.