Author's Note: This is essentially a series of blurbs, random little stand-alone things with no real sense of continuity, things I would've liked to write somewhere but couldn't stitch into any of my other stories. I might continue to add more as I think of them, but for now there's these. I hope you like them, such as they are. Thank you!

~ . . . ~

The most pitiful groaning arose from the depths of the cave.

Mavis's ears laid against her head, while she was trying to keep an expression of sympathy as she hung from the mouth of the cave, her wings folded.

"Hey, there." she said gently.

"Ugh. Hi, sorry... Look, I don't mean to be a downer, but this kind of hurts re-eally bad," Johnny managed to say, currently unseen, "I didn't think it'd hurt like this..."

"Sorry." she mumbled guiltily.

"I mean," the poor young man went on, "My stomach hurts. My skin hurts. My teeth hurt. And my eyes...! I get the teeth but what's with everything else?!"

"This's a big thing you're going through, Johnny," she reminded him gently, remembering the soreness from when she'd gotten her training fangs coming in, wincing in empathy. She tried to remember what was written on the pamphlets Dad had given her before they went through with this. "You're basically changing from one thing to another, that's gonna bring some, er, growing pains. Uh, think of this as something like changing a citizenship." she decided, feeling a little proud of the analogy, "Yeah! When you change a citizenship, there's gonna be, uh, paperwork."

"Paperwork SUCKS!" he decided, before dissolving into another pathetic groan that echoed into the night, and there was the sound of spitting.

"Augh, another one...? My orthodontist is gonna kill me..."

Mavis shook her head, idly wondering if she'd complain this much if they'd consider having kids.

. . .

Mavis stared up into the tree, an eyebrow raised. She wanted to laugh, but this was kind of sad.

"What did you think you were doing?" she finally asked.

After a moment of silence, the reply from the leaves was muffled.

". . . I thought I was flying."

She huffed, "I'm supposed to help you for the start of that. You could have told me you were ready to try it out." Mavis reminded, feeling a little bit put out.

"Well, I thought I'd be inherently good at it." the leaves mumbled self-consciously. "Y'know, wings and stuff, you flap 'em, you fly, what's to know?"

Mavis rolled her eyes as the leaves rustled in effort, before they stopped.

"Um... A little help right now would be pretty cool, though." Johnny went on sheepishly, "I, uh, I think my head's sort of...stuck..."

. . .

"Best!

Idea!

EVER!"

"No! Worst idea! Worst idea! Jonathan, you get down from the ceiling and remove that stupid thing this instant!"

"Heh, take it off right now? You sure? C'mon, Drac, I mean, how could I pass this up?!"

"Hey, Dad, what's . . . Uhh, Johnny? What are you wearing...?"

"Ooh, hey-hey, Mavey! Check me out! I'm SPIDERMAN!"

. . .

They greet each other formally outside of the door, each in their respective pajamas.

"Hey, Drac."

"Jonathan."

For a moment they stare, standing awkwardly in silence, before Dracula rolls his eyes, muttering, "Alright, let's get this over with."

They both went into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror that wouldn't show either of their reflections. After a moment of jostling for room near the sink, they both begin their respective rituals of shaving, trying not to laugh at the faces the other man would make, those faces sometimes made on purpose. Dracula occasionally corrected Johnny, or at times prevented him from nearly slicing his own throat in the process of 'blind shaving'. Still, this session was a significant improvement from the young man's first attempts.

"Okay, I gotta ask, why do you guys have mirrors when you can't use 'em?"

"Tradition and, ehh, precaution." Dracula answered easily, finished early from long practice, "This way other beings cannot sneak up on our kind. Aaand maybe that we could have the opportunity to spring the surprise on them instead. Griffin hates it." he chuckled.

"You mean that you could sneak up on them too, right?"

"I do not 'sneak'. I just naturally move around quietly. You missed a spot."

"Whatever, it's cool." Johnny grudgingly felt along his face until he found the patch of stubble, taking care of it, watching the razor hover invisibly in the mirror.

"Did I get it?"

Dracula nodded, before crossing his arms somewhat impatiently, "When do you go back to your own bathroom?"

"Mavis said when I got good enough at this to stop making our bathroom look like something out of a horror film," Johnny replied with a shrug.

And consequently nicked himself.

"Ow!"

"Maybe if you weren't so clumsy." Dracula grumbled, quickly cleaning up the spots of blood with disgust, as Johnny hastily held tissues to his cheek.

"Hey, hey, you don't know what this's like for me," the young man protested, gesturing frustratedly at the lack of reflection, the hovering tissues.

Why did those and the razor show up and not his own clothes, anyway? How the heck did that work? Some kind of reflection force field thingy that included what he was wearing? Mirror mazes were gonna be real pieces of work now. What if he wore paint? Would that show? Or glow-in-the-dark paint? Him and Mavis and glow-in-the-dark paint. In a mirror maze. All by themselves. Ooh, now that was a nice idea... But still.

"This is totally starting all over again, learning to shave right, and it was bad enough the first time - I can't even use a mirror for it now. I mean, I'm a grown man for crying out loud."

The older vampire snorted, crossing his arms again with a smirk, "Could've fooled me." Dracula drawled, before looked down pointedly, "What does my daughter see in a 'grown man' wearing fuzzy pajama pants with little rocket ships on them?"

Johnny rolled his eyes, "Pfft, c'mon, Drac," he muttered, "It's not as if I wear this or really anything when we're - uhm..." Johnny froze, and tried to think of a way to continue speaking without digging his own grave, but too late, he could feel the smirk dropping off Dracula's face, and didn't need a reflection on the mirror to tell what expression the old man was wearing. The air in here suddenly felt very cold and foreboding...

. . .

Mavis was understandably confused when she found a half-shaved Jonathan cowering in their bathtub, clutching a razor in his hands like it was a sword.

"Mavey," he said simply, staring up at her when she asked what was wrong, "Let's just say I'm gonna continue practicing in here. By myself. And I'll be extra, extra, extra careful, okay? Please? If I go in there again, I'm not kidding, your dad's bathroom will be something out of a horror film."

. . .

Johnny chewed thoroughly, thoughtfully, the crunches echoing almost morbidly in the dining hall.

Mavis and Dracula stared in matching expressions of fascinated horror, keeping the table between themselves and him.

"Dad, I'm scared."

"It will be alright, honey bat, it will be over soon..." Dracula uneasily promised his daughter, though he sounded uncertain.

"Hmmm..." the youngest vampire grimaced in careful thought around the crunchiness before swallowing, and the seconds ticked by with no obvious effect. "Mmmmmm-nope, nothin'. Don't get the big deal, sorry." He stuffed another piece of garlic toast into his mouth, chewing with a bit more relish this time, "Fangs make the feel a bit different, but it tastes the same 'oo me..."

"I'm gonna be sick." Mavis said flatly, before fleeing, indeed looking a little green, leaving Dracula to stare in repulsed fascination.

"That. That right there is the most disgusting thing I have ever seen." the oldest vampire decided.

Johnny chuckled apologetically after washing down the dryness and the spice with some water, "Yeah, well, I guess it really is just a family allergy, huh?"

"Seems so. How nice for you." the count grumbled, leading the young man to enjoy grossing him out with purposeful consumption of the vile breadstuff. Afterwards, the only way they managed to get Johnny to stop eating garlic things from then on was when Mavis threatened to stop kissing him.

"And please, please, please brush your fangs..." she whimpered during Johnny's profuse apologies and promises after she'd recovered from an allergic reaction.

The Garlic Incident was never discussed nor ever occurred again.