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The Prince and the Frog
It had been six weeks since Bruce Banner had come to L.A. with Mick. Josef had been surprisingly understanding and cool with Mick’s idea to get Banner to help him find a permanent cure, but he didn’t want to have any part in it except for maybe helping out with funds. So Mick had turned the apartment underneath his own into a lab and living space for Bruce. The whole building was Mick’s and he had kept the story under his loft empty for safety purposes.
Bruce and Beth had become friends easily. Whenever he needed a little distraction from his work in the late afternoon he knocked on their door and had a drink with Beth. Sometimes a still sleepy vampire would join them, take his breakfast and cuddle up with Beth. Bruce had been a loner for a long time but he enjoyed the company and the opportunity to talk about everything and nothing. He understood very well that Mick felt the need to stake his claim on Beth but he would never make a move on her. He just wished his own lover would be as understanding of his condition as Beth was of Mick’s.
It was almost Christmas and Beth had already decorated the loft with holly and a tree. The three were sitting at the fireplace, drinking mulled wine (for Mick it was spiked with blood instead of spices) and talking about music. Suddenly Mick froze, took a long sniff and jumped up. He took a defensive stance in front of Beth and watched the stairway intently.
A male figure in a suit came down the stairs, impeccably polished shoes first, then black slacks, and a white pressed shirt with a shiny black jacket was next. The figure started talking before it was fully visible.
“What a cozy sight you make. You extended your family, Mick. I’m a bit concerned that I wasn’t invited, we’re family too, after all.”
Lance reached the floor and regaled them all with an arrogant sneer, holding onto the bannister with one hand, a walking stick in the other.
Mick scowled. “You’re not invited, I don’t regard you as family, so you better go. Now!”
Lance didn’t react to his outburst but let his gaze swift over the loft and its inhabitants as if he was judging a display in the shopping window of a furniture store.
“Fresh blood, huh? Did you finally get yourself a freshie? I didn’t think you had it in you. And a male, too. Or are you training your blonde mate to accept living blood even before you turn her?”
Mick didn’t rise to the taunt. “What do you want, Lance? What is important enough to make you leave Europe? Coraline isn’t here, you know better where she is than I do. So, what’s up?”
Lance strode towards the three. “I heard of your new project. Coraline finally told me that she was hiding a small portion of the compound in a bank safe. I went to get it, but the safe was empty. You purchased a lot of laboratory material. Are you funding the science classrooms of your local high school?”
“What if I do?”
Lance laughed. “Of course. Now, everybody needs a hobby, but I want the compound back. It might save us all in case there is another vampire apocalypse.”
Mick smiled. “You’re actually afraid of those pesky humans that you despise so much. What happened to top-of-the-food-chain and royalty-of-european-vampires?”
“They are many, they are organized and they have weapons. It’s getting harder to stay hidden, you know that. The cure is ours, you stole it from us.”
“Well, you said yourself that I’m part of your family, and Coraline gave it to me, so I didn’t technically steal it. Besides, I doubt that the amount that is left in my possession would be enough to save two vampires, let alone a whole family.”
“That’s ours to decide. There might be a way to produce more, but without the sample we can’t do that. You are only wasting a precious amount of it without any chance to find what you’re searching for. You haven’t studied life science since high school in the 1920s, I presume.”
Mick took a quick glance towards Bruce. He had been standing behind the couch, listening to the discussion without a word. Mick doubted he should tell Lance about his plans, but what if Lance or Coraline or Cynthia had made some progress that would help Bruce to get to the heart of the matter quickly? What if he was wasting time and compound on tests that had already been done? Maybe if they worked together…
Beth watched the display from hooded eyes. She knew that entering the discussion would only piss off Lance even more. He was old fashioned and despised women as much as any other man who got stuck in the last century – or centuries. An idea was forming in her brain. What if they got Lance to help them out? There were certain botanical products that Cynthia had been storing in her lab before Lance raided them out. Maybe they would need them to produce more of the cure, which was the first step to making it permanent. How could she get them to cooperate?...
Bruce tried very hard to think of something to say without giving the foreign vampire – he was sure it was a vampire just from the way he was holding himself – too much information. From what he got out of the discussion this Lance was somehow related to Mick and his family had been in possession of the cure until it was stolen and somehow came to L.A. The foreigner feared that they would waste it and not get anywhere. Bruce’s fear was that the vampire would try to steal their little vial and they would have no basis to create more of it. If only he could sneak out to his lab and hide it. Or what if they could convince Lance to help them instead of shutting them down? …
Lance watched the display with an amused expression. He knew what they were thinking: how they could get rid of him and where to hide the compound so he couldn’t find it. He had to act quickly. They were probably in the middle of their tests and if he could get into the lab he could snag the box or vial or whatever, and disappear before they could follow. Mick was the only vampire here and he was so much younger than Lance. He would wipe the floor with him, again. He was looking forward to it. Nothing could keep him from the lab, not the lanky smallish guy in green flannel nor the nosy blonde freshie nor Mick with his noble intentions. Lance took a small pistol from his side pocket.
“Don’t come any nearer, this is loaded with silver. Just give me the compound and I’ll be gone. If you don’t give it to me freely, I will take it on my own.”
Mick made a quick decision. Instead of attacking Lance he took a quick side step and vamp-jumped to the door. Blocking it with his body he called out to Beth and Bruce to take cover. Lance confronted Mick after a jump of his own, but instead of shooting him with silver he pushed a button on his walking stick, and a stake shot out of the end and pinned Mick to the wall.
Mick groaned in pain but his eyes glassed over and he was unable to move, paralized by the wood in his chest. Lance stepped up to push Mick’s sagging body away from the door, but before he could complete this task a roar sounded in his back and he was flung across the room as if he was a fly.
When he came to and rolled his shoulders to get rid of the headache, what he saw made him gape in wonder. A bulky half-naked creature, as high as the ceiling, green and packed with muscles, stood before him and snarled at him. The monster held Mick’s motionless body in his arms like a precious doll, laid him on the couch without taking his eyes off Lance and took a protective stance in front of him.
Beth crawled towards Mick and pulled the stake out without much effort. Mick sat up, rubbing his aching chest.
Lance still was too stunned to move. What kind of devilry was that? He had never seen anything like this in all his life. Mick had a watchdog, it seemed.
He stood up and ran towards the green abomination. Scratching his talons over its shoulders he tried to bite its neck, but it took him by his legs and threw him back into the wall. He hurt all over. Not even his speed and strength could match this brute.
Mick laughed, which made Lance even angrier. He tried again to get a hold of the monster, but to no avail. This time the green one just held him on arms length and every attempt to bite or scratch it was futile. The wounds he had inflicted before were already healing.
The Hulk looked at Mick with a childlike expression, like asking what to do now. Lance fumed. “Tell your were-toad to let me go!” he ordered.
Beth tried to keep herself from giggling, knowing it would only aggravate the situation, but she couldn’t help it. “Did he just call Bruce a were-toad?” she asked laughing.
Mick laughed too. He went up to Lance, who was still hanging about 2 feet in the air, and took the pistol and the stick from him. Lance didn’t put up a fight.
Mick laid a hand on Bruce’s arm. “Let him go, brother. I’m sure he won’t do any harm to us.”
Lance was dumped by the creature, he fell backwards and was again humiliated when he sat down hard on his buttocks. So much for vampire grace.
“You know, Lance, I read the fairy tale differently. Wasn’t it the princess who threw the frog into the wall? Well, now you know that it will never work to get the compound from us by sheer force. On the other hand, I have a proposal for you and your family.”
“We won’t work with you.”
“I think you will. Listen. Bruce here is the best in his field, and he will find a way to produce more of the cure. But he would find it easier if he could build on the research that Coraline, Cynthia and their minions already did. Give us their research, and we’ll share the cure with you when we find it.”
“If you find it.”
“We sure will. If we don’t, then you haven’t lost anything. You can copy the research if you want. You didn’t find a way either, did you? If you don’t help us, the small amount there is won’t last long enough to help you through, in case the humans really turn against us.”
Lance thought about this. As much as it pained him, Mick was right. There just wasn’t enough left. They needed more, desperately. Scrambling together the meager leftovers wouldn’t help them in the long haul.
“I will first need to talk with our sire about this.”
“Of course. Send my compliments to Coraline. I’m sure she hasn’t forgotten about me yet.”
Bruce was slowly coming back to his senses and his natural state, now that the danger was gone. Beth guided him to the couch where he sat down heavily. With a last curious glance at the small man, Lance opened a window and took a flying leap down the building.
Mick sighed. “Why can’t he just take the elevator? Show-off!”
Beth laughed. It felt good after the tense situation they had just experienced. Mick fell in, and so did Bruce. “I’m happy to be your watchdog anytime”, he said.
“More a watch-frog!” Mick retorted. Bruce went downstairs to find some clothes while Mick and Beth tidied up the loft. How would they explain the Lance-shaped cracks in the drywalls and the door to the janitor? It was fortunate that Mick owned the building.
A few days later they celebrated Christmas together. Beth offered Bruce a package and told him: “I got you a sign for your office downstairs.”
When Bruce removed the wrapping he bellowed out a laugh. It was a metal sign with a very angry Kermit on it, the caption read “BEWARE OF THE FROG!”.
“I will hang it on the inside, I think. Wouldn’t want people to wonder.”
For the first time in years, Bruce was happy on Christmas.
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The picture that inspired me:
great tale!!!!
He did a wonderful job of putting Lance in his place. 
Thank you, Marigold.