DO VAMPIRES FART? A CRACK-FIC

**A/N:  This is how I sometimes procrastinate.  Usually I delete them (be glad) and pretend it never happened, but yeah…this is how SSSS came about, and now, this one shot.  Enjoy?**

.

The group of assorted vamps sat at the very large round table in the middle of the conference room. They had come together at the behest of one Meridian, mediocre fanfic writer and curious human extraordinaire. She had been pondering various and assorted questions pertaining to the vampire condition and world, and had kindly asked the supes gathered that night for their take on said questions.

Each was silently surprised to see the other vampire factions gathered, but wisely held their collective tongue and instead had silently taken their respective seats and waited with classic impatience. Well, except for Carlisle, whose noted lack of impatience set the others’ sharpened teeth on edge.

Edward simply brooded, as per his usual custom since ‘his’ Bella had flipped him off and seemingly disappeared. Somehow her leaving had fucked with his mind-reading capabilities, and he could no longer infiltrate every mind he wanted, when he wanted. These days he had to wait for the victim to actually direct a thought to him before he could read it. Emmett, naturally, enjoyed sending sporadic renditions of the classic, “Nanner nanner nanner” to his annoying fake-brother. Rosalie just mentally flipped him off at odd times.

The rusty haired vampire with the oddly-elongated body found that his erstwhile “father” never sent him a single thought.

The “pixie”, the annoying little twat who was supposed to keep an eye on the future yet somehow managed to miss every single big event, had thankfully refused to come. It seemed Payless Shoe store was having a half-price sale. Esme was just shagging the pool guy – in London. She’d left Carlisle’s boring ass two years ago. Jasper had mentally begged Alice, suitably and mentally dubbed “Malice”, to go with her. She hadn’t as of yet. He had heard that Harrods’ was going to have a sale if he had to start it himself – obnoxious bitch needed to go.

Before seating himself at the table, Godric had slipped his shoes off then jumped up into the seat to rest his weight on the balls of his feet. He trusted no one here other than his Son and grandprogeny. There was something he didn’t like about the looks of the ones called Elijah and Klaus. He wouldn’t start anything, but…at least that Stefan looked like a fucking wuss. A loud sneeze would scare him off. Carlisle avoided the ancient vampire’s penetrating gaze.

Eric took the seat to his Maker’s side and stretched out his long legs. It had already been a long night – his pretty little telepath had already discovered three under-aged patrons and two sets of FOTS scouts, and it wasn’t even 9:00pm yet for fuck’s sake. Oh, well, if he was here, then he didn’t have to worry about being there, did he?

Pam surveyed the testosterone surrounding the table and sighed. The blonde bitch at the other end was pretty enough, but she had a natural “real” vampire’s disdain for cold, fake vamps. She shivered as she imagined fucking one of their sparkly popsicle dicks…even cold, sparkly tongue would be gross! She went back to studying her nails…they were much more interesting.

Andre kicked back and contemplated how best to kill the cold vamps and the ones more like himself. If staked, would Stefan or Elijah go down in ashes, or goo? Damon was cool…he’d helped him with an investigation a couple decades back. He knew the sparkly ass’d ones were supposedly “invincible”, but shit, he knew for a fact they could be ended. Throw a chain around each wrist, attach the chains to a pair of jets…regular aircraft…hell, two-ton dump trucks and…

Sophie-Anne got tired of waiting after having taken her seat for three minutes, got up, and left. No one missed her.

Jasper twitched with the quickly building impatience flooding the room. Couldn’t they just get this shit started already? He really should have fed before coming over, but just couldn’t handle the thought of yet another fucking rabbit. Or raccoon. Or possum. Or bear. He never touched the mountain lions or any other feline…or wolf – he liked cats and dogs too much to go around munching on their brothers and sisters. If he could just ditch the pissy little pixie, he could go back to his real diet, but nooo – every time he started to discuss anything like that with her, she’d start spouting this “fate” bullshit which always ended up being about a pair of fucking shoes.

Klaus, Elijah, Damon, and Stefan kept to their side of the table, and tried to keep themselves above the minor concerns of the others. It wasn’t that they didn’t care about the other vampires…oh, wait, it was. They really could not give a shit about the other members of this odd-ball group. They had agreed to fill out a questionnaire, so that’s what they’d do, then they were outies.

A snack would be nice, though.

Just as Emmett was about to start throwing another set of sharpened pencils through the ceiling tiles in an “I Love Rose” pattern, the door to the conference room opened.

“Hi, y’all, I’m Claire. Meridian has another migraine and couldn’t be here tonight, but she made sure that y’all would have refreshments,” she broke off to open the door wider and wave in a man pushing a rolling cart, “while you filled out your questions.”

As the strong scent of blood wafted about, everyone save anyone who knew him was surprised when Stefan fled the room. Eager to be anywhere but there, Klaus ‘magnanimously’ offered to keep an eye on the wuss. Elijah and Damon just rolled their eyes.

“Please feel free to serve yourselves,” Claire continued as she started passing out the papers. Luckily she had brought another batch of pencils. Seems this Meridian ‘knew’ Emmett.

Rose’s eyes went full black at the luscious scent of human blood, and she clamped a hand over her mouth and nose as she ran from the room with Emmett right behind her. Fuckward just shrugged his shoulders at Carlisle, whose eyes widened comically as he saw Jasper “bellying up” to the blood cart bar and filling one of those large Solo cups to the brim from the pitcher marked O+-. Three good gulps and he went for the refill.

Irked at Fuckward’s holier-than-thou attitude, and knowing full well that the little lying twerp had gone AB- a few decades past, Carlisle just rolled his eyes…and bellied up to the same cart. Jasper, thinking Carlisle was going to interfere with the best blood he’d had in ages, growled a warning at the old sparkly dude who just *pff’d* at him and grabbed his own Solo cup. He’d always had a thing for B+.

Having fed before attending the meeting, Godric, Eric, Andre, and Pam just watched the proceedings with a smirk.

After Jasper and Carlisle had their third-each refill and returned to the table, Damon and Elijah served themselves.

Suddenly uncomfortable with the amount of fresh blood he’d ingested much too quickly – so much for being a hifalutin’ doctor – Carlisle excused himself, and went back to his hotel room. He really hoped his tummy would stop hurting – he really should have known better than to throw back a total of four topped-off Solo cups of fresh, delicious blood into a stomach accustomed to…deer blood.

The greenish tinge to his face alarmed fellow hotel guests.

Jasper snorted. Lightweight.

Everyone had settled down and were preparing to read the questions when Andre’s phone rang. No one said a word about the ring-tone, “Don’t Cha” by the Pussycat Dolls, but the second the tall blond vampire left the room as if on an important mission (caused by Sigebert’s pre-arranged call to give him an out if he wanted it), collective laughter immediately ensued.

It soon became apparent that Pam could snort like a chihuahua having an epiglottis attack while Elijah somehow managed to spew blood all over the table, Fuckward who was sitting across from him, and the wall behind the pissy copper-hair’d freak.

Godric was rolling on the floor clutching Eric’s leg like a lifeline while he belly laughed harder than he had in centuries, and Damon? Damon had folded his arms atop the table so he could rest his head on them while he laughed so hard he cried. His shoulders shook harder than Jello in an earthquake.

Claire laughed so hard that she had to go pee, so she just excused herself.  No one heard her leave.

Fuckward decided to be pissy about the blood spatter, but mostly he was infuriated that everyone was having fun that hadn’t been sanctioned by him, so he left in a snit with his nose and ass stuck up in the air.

All gathered eventually got hold of themselves, took their seats, and settled down to answer the questions.

That is, until they read the first one.

“Do vampires fart?”

Jasper was found two weeks later still convulsing with laughter atop the hotel.

♦

♦

♦

**A/N:  Remember, no matter how old the fic is, reviews are always welcome!**

♦

♦

♦

♦

♦

♦

♦