Think there's not a lot going on now that the newest Prince has been invested (uneventfully this time) and the clans are living in relative peace? Look closer. There's always something to do.

Expansion of the Bloodline AU. An easy, breezy anthology of short stories from the mountain, to the Cirque, to the cabin by the sea. Multiple characters. Multiple POVs. Multiple interpersonal dynamics. This will follow a similar formula as National Vampire's Christmas Vacation. Set after Bloodline so naturally spoilers abound.

(Bloodline really broke something in my brain because why did I have so much fun with this)

Summer Jobs: Organic Growth

Darius had never liked sitting still. His mother once told him he was just like his father in that regard. Darius decided that was a good thing. In fairness, that was long before he knew anything else about his (now late) father. These days he figured his natural restlessness was just another mark against him.

Darius had also never liked being told what to do, what he should do, or what he should want to do. Fuck structure. Fuck rules. None of these people are my real parents.

He didn't want to like the Cirque. Uncle Darren's insistence to just give it a chance only inspired him to dig his heels in all the harder. He'd just spent the past five years ricocheting between schools that didn't understand him full of people who made him feel different. Why would he want to assimilate with a bunch of professional freaks after all that?

Six months later, there was an extended break in the tour. Darius would never ever admit his uncle had been right. All he knew now was such profound boredom he swore he could hear mold growing on his brain. It was then he realized he hated sitting still way more than he hated structure.

The Cirque conglomerate set up camp in an empty field on the outskirts of a bustling coastal town. A real tourist trap type of place. There was even a beach within walking distance of their camp, although the appeal was beyond Darius. The sand was too hot. The water was too cold. The seagulls were loud greedy assholes.

Uncle Darren had no qualms, though. Said he had to soak up every last moment in the sun before he was blooded as a full vampire. Almost everyone headed for the beach as soon as the daily chores were finished. Games of soccer and volleyball were a frequent occurrence. As much as Darius loved soccer, he hated sand more. Inevitably he'd trudge back to the campsite to read a comic alone in the van — at least until the Von kids dragged him back out again.

Darius liked hanging out with Shancus, Lilia, and Urcha enough to tolerate a bit of sand in his shoes. They were always chill about sharing their stuff. Plus Evra and Merla didn't have too many rules.

But on that particular afternoon, child's play was the furthest thing from Darius's mind. He strode across the beach with his mind on his money and his money on his mind. It wasn't hard to locate Uncle Darren. When Darren wasn't partaking in beach sports, he could always be found laying on a big red towel holding a book.

"Hey, Uncle Darren? Can I take some money out of the safe in the van?" Darius called as he approached, making a point of sounding casual.

Darren set his book down and glanced up at Darius, raising an eyebrow. "The point of the safe is to keep it locked. What happened to your summer pocket money?"

Darius sighed. Rude of Uncle Darren to hit him with a rhetorical question when they both knew it had all gone to candy and comic books in an unsupervised whirlwind shopping spree last week. Approximately four minutes after he was paid.

Not bothering to wait for an answer, Darren added, "What do you need money for, anyway?"

"I want to go to a movie." Darius lied. He couldn't tell the truth, because Uncle Darren would tell him it was fine. That he needn't worry about spending money on that, it was all water under the bridge, et cetera.

Darren could claim whatever he wanted. But Darius would never forget the look in his uncle's eyes the night of last week's incident. Even if Darren did allow him the cost of a movie ticket, it wouldn't be enough. But it'd be a start. He'd have to play the long game til he had enough.

"What movie?" Darren asked, sitting up eagerly. "We could round up the Vons and all go together. As long as it's age-appropriate, mind you."

Darius shook his head and backtracked. "Never mind. It's a scary one. I didn't think anyone would want to see it with me so I figured I'd just go alone."

Now Darren's face looked stuck between amusement and exasperation. "I'm a little offended you forgot how much I love scary movies." He pointed out. "Why don't you and I go?"

"Never mind." Darius repeated. "It's okay. They probably wouldn't let me in anyway."

Then he bolted before Darren could respond. When Darius looked over his shoulder at a safe distance, he was relieved to see Darren had gone back to lying on the towel with his book held aloft.

On to Plan B.

Darius wandered along the beach in search of his partner in crime, Shancus Von. He found all three Von kids clustered under a large parasol, building a sand city while their parents played volleyball with Hans Hands and Truska nearby.

"What's got your fangs in a frazzle?" Shancus asked as Darius sat down beside him. Shancus was leaning against the large plastic drink cooler, arms folded on the lid like a seasoned bartender from a movie.

"I don't have fangs." Darius grumbled. "And they're not in a frazzle. Whatever that means."

"Then why do you look so sad?"

"I'm not sad. I just need money."

"But we all got our summer allowances last week! You spent it all already?!"

"It wasn't that much! There's a ton more in that stupid locked safe in our van. My mom told my uncle he had to put all my earnings in there in case I ever want to go to college." Darius recounted with disdain, rolling his eyes as he aimlessly stabbed at the sand with a plastic spade, thinking bitterly to himself, I'm not going to college, Mom! I couldn't even finish ninth grade! Then he added as an afterthought, "Hey, do any of you know how to crack a lock?"

The three little Vons shook their heads in unison, as if they were appalled he even thought to ask. Figured. Bunch of goody-two-shoes. (Whom he'd come to cherish like the siblings he didn't think he wanted).

Shancus delved into the cooler and pulled out a gallon of lemonade. Or, lemon-flavoured beverage if you read the fine print. He filled a red solo cup and slid it over to Darius.

"Here you go. To drown your sorrows." Shancus told him seriously.

Darius rolled his eyes again, but he had to admit the drink hit the spot. Even his internal angst didn't stand a chance against a strong shot of refined sugar.

And in the midst of the rush, an idea began to take shape in his mind. An idea so crazy it just might work.

He locked eyes with Shancus and asked, "Is there more of this?!"

THREE HOURS LATER

Obtaining permission from the adults to open a lemonade stand turned out to be the easy part.

The hard part was forcing a respectful nod when Darren pulled Darius to the side and told him calmly, I'm counting on you to be the responsible one. You're the oldest, even if not by much.

I'm not responsible! I'm not a leader like you! You know that better than anyone! Darius wanted to snap back. He didn't.

The harder part was lugging the drink cooler and parasol down the beach to a busier area. They had to leave the folding chairs behind.

The hardest part was watching the hours tick by and wondering if all their effort had been for naught.

"We're getting paid by the hour, right?" Shancus grumbled.

"I already told you we're splitting all the profits equally!" Said Darius, throwing his arms up in exasperation and accidentally knocking over a stack of plastic cups waiting to be filled. He made haste to grab them all before they blew away. They couldn't afford any new business supplies.

"What are profits?" Urcha asked, glancing curiously around at the older children.

"Profits are the money we make when we sell the lemonade." Lilia informed him with relish. There were few things she loved more than being the one with the answers.

Urcha frowned. "But we haven't sold any lemonade!"

"Just give it time!" Darius protested. "We're doing everything right. This is the busiest part of the beach. Dad said this is where all the rich people hang out."

Sure enough, they'd set up their makeshift shop at the exact place where the city met the seaside. Behind them was a strip of urban indulgence. Nightclubs, bars, souvenir shops. In front of them lay so many tourists and seagulls they could barely see the water.

"Maybe we need a bigger sign." Shancus remarked.

"This was all we had to work with." Lilia reminded him mournfully. They'd sacrificed the back cover of her new colouring book for this. They'd used a pen from their mother's purse to write Fresh Lemonade 4 Sale — $1 Per Glass on the blank side.

The four young entrepreneurs sat beneath the parasol in woe-begotten silence for an undetermined stretch of time.

Then Shancus asked out of nowhere, "Hey, what happens if someone needs us to make change?"

"We'd need a customer for that to happen." Said Lilia.

"She's right." Said Darius. "We won't worry about that til we have to."

Shancus was very much worrying about it. It was all over his face. Then Darius realized why.

For the first time that afternoon, someone was walking towards them. On purpose. A tall, slim woman in a white bikini. Hair as blonde as Truska's (save for the dark roots at the top of her head), sunglasses the size of saucepans, and miles of exposed skin that seemed more orange than tan.

None of them knew what to say. Darius's mind went blank. He hadn't given much consideration to this part. He'd mostly been focused on the part that came after this, where he counted all his money like the cartoon duck from that Christmas movie.

Luckily for him, Lilia was a natural.

"Good afternoon!" She chorused sweetly as soon as the orange bikini lady was within earshot. "Has the beach been treating you well on this beautiful summer day?"

"Is this juice squeezed from organically-grown lemons?" The lady asked, completely ignoring Lilia. Lilia's face immediately morphed to a scornful glare, but the lady was too busy squinting at the cooler to notice.

"Yes." Darius answered immediately, getting the distinct impression she wanted it to be from organically-grown lemons. Whatever that meant.

Shancus didn't share his business sense. He shot Darius a reproachful look, then glanced back at the lady and said, "Actually, I'm not sure. I… uhh… I could call the customer service number on the jug and find out?"

"This came from a jug?! Your sign says fresh!" the lady countered. She wrinkled her nose and crossed her unnaturally orange arms as she surveyed the scene. Then, with a sort of haughty self-righteousness that reminded Darius of his most recent school principal, she added, "Do you kids even have a permit for this stand?"

Darius scowled back at her, but truth be told he didn't know how to answer that. All of a sudden he was back in that chair in that office with that principal. He'd felt so tiny and insignificant; unable to understand why people always found a reason to be mad at him. Meanwhile, Shancus stammered something that didn't sound like anything.

"What's a permit?" Urcha asked innocently.

The lady put her hands on her hips and cocked her head, oozing impatience and condescension. Then, without so much as a shred of warning, Lilia burst into noisy sobs. Both Shancus and Darius pivoted to gawk at the outburst.

"W-we t-t-told our parents we needed or-organic, locally-grown, g-gluten-free, vegan lemons for our stand!" Lilia choked out, voice shuddering. "B-but this j-j-juice was the best they could d-do! It-it's j-just been so hard for them, with the t-treatments and all. D-dad had t-to sell his wedding ring j-just so we d-don't lose our house!"

Lilia wasn't a crier. Not even when her hand got pinched between two tent poles last month. Didn't even make a peep. That was impressive. This was just weird.

"Treatments?!" The lady gasped, jaw hanging open. They could've counted every one of her unnaturally white teeth.

Darius, Shancus, and Urcha remained as taken aback as she was. Meanwhile Lilia continued to stare up at the lady with an expression of despair so convincing Darius found himself wondering if he'd missed a chapter here.

"Yeah!" Lilia whimpered. "Skin replacements aren't cheap, you know! And we need two of them! Even if it w-was covered by insurance, we c-can't afford insurance!"

"I'm sorry, did you say skin replacements?"

"For my brother and I! We have Scaliosis! Look!" Lilia yanked her bucket hat and sunglasses off her head with a dramatic flourish, and leaned over to do the same to Shancus before he had time to react. The wide lenses of the sunglasses along with the shadow from the hat brims had kept their unconventional scaly complexions from being immediately obvious to a passerby, but now they were in plain view.

The lady yelped and recoiled as if one of the kids had bitten her. Darius felt her reaction was a rather overdramatic, but then again he'd seen more wild shit than the average fourteen year old so perhaps he wasn't the best judge.

Then, something astonishing happened. The lady delved into her leather suitcase of a purse and pulled out a bill. Darius was certain his eyes were deceiving him, til she threw it down on the cooler in front of them in plain sight.

A hundred dollars.

Her lips pursed into a sad little pout and she declared with saccharine sympathy, "Keep the change, honey. I'll pray for you."

She took a glass of crappy, mass-produced lemon-flavoured beverage (that probably didn't contain a single molecule of real lemon juice) and walked away without a backwards glance.

Darius snatched the bill up and stared at it. He'd never held this much cash in his entire life. Laughing in delight, Urcha leaned over Darius's shoulder to get a better look at the payload.

Meanwhile, Shancus finally found his voice: "Are you crazy, Lil?! You're gonna get us arrested! There's no such thing as Scaliosis!"

Lilia gave him an indifferent little shrug as she calmly put her sunglasses back on. "How do you know? You're not a doctor. And who cares anyway? We'll never see her again. And now we have a hundred dollars."

"I have another idea." Said Darius suddenly. "I vote we use the money to re-invest in our business."

"What does that mean?" Urcha asked.

"Means we spend a little money to make even more money. I think I see a dollar store up there behind that restaurant."

Tape: $2

Poster board: $3.

Permanent markers: $10 for a half-dozen.

Purple glitter glue: $5.

A replacement poster board because Lilia spelled 'organic' wrong the first time: $3.

Four more jugs of lemon-flavoured beverage: $12.

Total expense: $35

They taped the handmade sign to the picnic table where its fluorescent green backdrop and dazzling glitter accents made sure there was no mistaking their new mission statement:

FRESH LOCAL ORGANIC VEGAN LEMONADE FOR SALE! ALL PROCEEDS SUPPORT THE FIGHT AGAINST SCALIOSIS! SAVE A LIFE TODAY!

They taped the new sign to the pole of the parasol where it flew like a flag. Within five minutes there was a line stretching almost to the water.

Darius figured if people could afford to make a charitable donation without bothering to find out if Scaliosis was a real condition, he didn't need to feel bad about accepting their money.

Shancus figured the police would be here any minute. Kept looking over his shoulder like a wanted criminal.

Lilia moved product like a sleazy, seasoned — sleazoned? — car salesperson. There wasn't a shred of remorse behind those yellow eyes. Darius was in awe.

Urcha kept the cups full to streamline the serving process and minimize wait times.

They were really good at this.

Eventually there was a lull in the crowd as dinner hour rolled around and the beachgoers began to trek up to the streets in search of bars and restaurants. Darius finally had time to count his hard-earned cash.

Total revenue: $670

"Are you sure? That seems like too much." Shancus asked, lurking over Darius's shoulder.

Darius shot him a glare and snapped back, "Remind me which of us has gone to actual school?"

"Didn't you get expelled like a thousand times?" Urcha piped up.

Lilia set the record straight. Or she tried to: "No, Urcha. He got suspended a thousand times. He only got expelled once. That's why Uncle Darren brought him to the Cirque. I heard Daddy telling Mommy one night."

"I've only been suspended twelve times between three different schools, and expelled from two of them." Darius sighed. As if he needed a reminder.

"I was close enough." Lilia shrugged, helping herself to a cup of lemonade.

"Hey, what do you need money for anyway?" Shancus asked, shooting Darius a funny look as if the thought had only just occurred to him.

Darius winced. He hadn't wanted to tell anyone. It was so stupid and embarrassing and unnecessary. But it seemed like the kind of thing business partners should talk about.

And maybe he'd feel better if he told someone.

"Uncle Darren had this special flute that Mr. Crepsley gave him, like fifteen years ago or something." Darius began reluctantly. The words came out as a mumble. Unable to look directly at the others, he took to picking up handfuls of sand and watching it trickle down from between his fingers over and over while he told the story.

"…But he left it in Vampire Mountain 'cause he took his spider there with him. Anyway, this year he decided he wanted it back for some reason. So he sent word for Vancha March to bring it here when he visited a couple months ago. Uncle Darren was so happy to have the flute back. Said he wants to find some spiders and have an act in the Cirque again."

"Dad told us how your uncle used to fill in for Mr. Crepsley!" Shancus blurted out. "He was really good! Dad said Mr. Tall said he could've been a permanent headliner if he hadn't gone off to the mountain and became a Vampire Prince."

Shancus's wistful excitement made Darius grimace.

"I tried to teach myself to play the flute." Darius continued. "I wanted to show Uncle Darren I can be part of the Cirque just like him. But I was terrible. I tried and tried but I just sounded like shit —"

Urcha and Lilia gasped in alarm at the curse. Whoops. Wouldn't be the first time Darius slipped up in front of them. Wouldn't be the last.

"Anyway, I got so mad I just… I threw Uncle Darren's flute on the floor. It broke. And that's when he walked into the van. I didn't even have time to try to fix it. He said he wasn't mad, just disappointed. But I think that's the same thing." Darius finished lamely.

"So you want to buy him a new flute." Said Shancus.

"Well, yeah."

"How much are they?"

"I don't know. I hadn't gotten that far."

"Where can you buy them?"

"I don't know! Wal-Mart?"

"Then how do you know how much money you need to earn?!"

"Guys?" Urcha's small voice cut between Darius and Shancus's back-and-forth. "…Do you think they're here to buy lemonade?"

Darius and Shancus looked up.

"Fuck." Said Darius.

The other kids didn't bother looking reproachful. If there was ever a fuck-worthy situation, this was it.

A topless yellow Jeep with giant tires had just parked a few years away from the lemonade stand. On the side door was an unmistakable logo — Channel 13 News. Two people were already unloading camera apparatus while the third walked towards the kids. She was perky and overly enthusiastic. She looked a lot nicer than their first customer of the day. But considering Darius was committing literal fraud, he didn't lower his guard.

"How's everyone doing today?" The lady greeted them. She didn't wait for an answer before adding, "I'm Lois Leroy, Channel 13 News. I'm sure your parents have seen our Beach Beat segment that airs every weeknight after the local forecast?"

Darius nodded automatically. His mind was blank other than the looming realization that maybe Shancus's fears of incarceration hadn't been that unreasonable. Aunt Gracie was a lawyer, or she used to be before she became a vampire. Maybe she could get them out on bail or whatever. But she was all the way in Vampire Mountain. Uncle Darren could get in touch with her via Mr. Tall, but then Darren would find out his nephew was committing fraud. This game was rigged.

"I'd love to interview you for tonight's Beach Beat." She carried on, bobbing her head like one of those tacky dash ornaments as she talked. "Not only is the whole strip raving about your fresh organic lemonade, you're educating the public while raising money for an amazing cause! I can't believe I'd never heard of Scaliosis until today. You kids are an inspiration. I can only imagine how proud your parents are."

"Yeah." Darius croaked, glancing around at the Von kids. "Super proud."

Shancus shot him a look of pure horror. He'd never been in trouble in his life. And now he was about to become a felon. All because Darius broke the stupid flute.

Fuuuuck.

"Speaking of parents, we do require the consent of a legal guardian before we can record an interview with you." Said Lois, utterly oblivious. "Is your family nearby? Or is there a phone number we could use to get in touch with them?"

Darius looked back at Shancus, then Lilia, then Urcha. He didn't have telepathy yet. Even if he did, it wouldn't work with them. So he hoped his eyes got his message across — follow my lead.

Shancus grabbed both his younger siblings by the hands and gave Darius a determined nod in return. Message received.

Meanwhile Lois continued smiling down at all of them. She looked like she wanted to tell them to hurry up and get on with it.

No problems there.

"Run!" Darius yelled. He grabbed the plastic sandwich bag of money and bolted up the beach towards the strip. Shancus followed hot on his heels, dragging Lilia and Urcha so fast they practically flapped in the wind behind him.

They didn't stop till they reached a Dairy Queen parking lot four blocks away. Lilia and Urcha were in hysterics. Shancus looked like he was too, although internally. Darius went in and bought four large Blizzards while Shancus consoled the other two at the picnic table. The sweet treat cost more than he expected, but he still had probably had enough to buy a new flute.

Everyone felt better after the snack. Aside from the fraud, Darius felt he'd accomplished a lot for one day. He'd even taken care of the little ones like he'd promised. On the down side, they had to abandon the parasol and drink cooler in their mad dash to freedom. On the up side, they could afford to buy exact duplicates from the Wal-Mart across the road. The adults didn't need to know anything other than the sale went reasonably well.

Not bad for the son of the Vampaneze Lord.

Deciding they'd best not linger around town too long, they quickly finished their ice cream and set a course for Wal-Mart. The cooler and parasol were easy to find. The flute, not so much. Darius even went against his instincts and asked a sales associate for help. He'd never done that before and never wanted to again.

The most similar item was a red plastic recorder. He supposed it'd have to do. Besides, Uncle Darren had a telepathic connection to spiders or something like that. It probably didn't even matter what instrument he played.

The long walk back to the campsite was made even longer by the fact they had to take a detour back to the beach. It would've looked suspicious if they approached from the opposite direction they'd left.

So far, so good. Darren, Evra, Merla and the rest were glad to hear the endeavour had been a success — although Darius and company had made a pact not to disclose their actual earnings. They went on record stating they made almost forty dollars. Off the record, there'd been $447 to split between them after the Wal-Mart trip.

Urcha and Lilia went to bed almost immediately after dinner. Well, Lilia went to bed. Urcha passed out by the campfire with his head on a bag of marshmallows like a pillow and was carried off by his father. Shancus wasn't far behind. The kid looked like he'd aged five years since waking up that morning. There were still adults around, so Darius shot him a smile that he hoped looked more apologetic than awkward. To his relief, Shancus returned the smile before heading off for the night. Still friends.

Darius felt as exhausted as he looked, but he was determined to stay awake long enough to give Uncle Darren his flute substitute after the campfire crowd cleared out. When the opportunity finally arose, it was even more nerve-wracking than Darius anticipated.

He didn't know how to gracefully segue into it, so he simply pulled the Wal-Mart bag out from under his chair and pushed it into Darren's hands.

"I got you this with my lemonade money. It's not as nice as the one I broke last week. But you're so good at communicating with the spiders it doesn't matter, right?! And I don't even care if I never get to be in the act. I'd probably do a shit job anyway. But I don't want you to miss out because of me. And I… I just… I'm really sorry I broke your flute, Uncle Darren."

That was more words than he'd planned on saying. They just kept tumbling out through his lips like a river until his eyes were overflowing too. And when the words finally stopped, he was sniffling like a little kid to boot. Fuck.

And the worst part was that, after an initial moment of shock, Uncle Darren started to laugh. He covered his mouth and tried to stifle it, but he did a piss poor job of it.

"Oh gods, Darius, you shouldn't have!" Darren practically cackled. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to laugh. It's just —"

"Of course I had to! I broke something of yours. So I made it right." Darius insisted, narrowing his eyes. What was the issue? He'd completed what he assumed were the appropriate steps towards amends. This wasn't at all the reaction he'd been expecting. A simple thanks would have sufficed.

But Darren shook his head. He got his laughter under control, shot his nephew a wry, rueful smile and said, "Mr. Tall fixed it for me yesterday. It's good as new! There's nothing to worry about."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Darius blurted out. There was a moment before he realized he'd used his outside voice rather than the one in his head. Whoops.

"Hey! Language!" Said Darren. But the reprimand seemed hollow. Darius always got the impression that Darren only corrected his language for Annie's sake. She always flinched when her son swore. Too late mom, I'm already a teenage degenerate.

Darius groaned in frustration, "Well, are you kidding me? I thought I ruined your plan to have an act in the show again!"

"No, it's okay!" Darren insisted. "This is a good thing."

"It is?"

"Of course! I want you to be part of the act too! Obviously we'll get you a real flute, but you can practice with this until we find you a nice one."

Oh.

Darren picked up the recorder and played an experimental note. The result was an inelegant mix of screech, hoot, and nails on chalkboard. It sounded atrocious. Probably had something to do with the fact that it only cost $10. Meanwhile Darius sat there with his jaw hanging open like a big stupid fish for a moment or two. Only to find out there was more.

Eyes alight with youthful anticipation, Darren leaned in and added in an undertone, "And I'm hoping you'll help me find and train the next generation of performing spiders."

Darius didn't like to throw grand proclamations around, not even within the sanctum of his own mind. Reality never lived up to the expectations. Well, maybe it did for some people. But not for Darius.

Still, this might turn out to be the best summer ever.