Dracula and Tinkerbell

A response to
Dear Dracula,
Remember that night 9 months ago? Yeah... well we have a son. His name is Edward.
Sincerely, Tinkerbell.
You already got the sex implied, I might as well use it...

It was a rather cold and stormy night in the dark pub and most of the guests sat bent over their cups of warm drink with various alcohol content without even looking up to see how close the clock was to midnight or if it had already tipped over. This was not the most respectable assemble of fictional characters, seeing as they were more than happy to cuddle together in the alcoves of Prince Charming's castle at the ball Cinderella was having. No, this were the characters of fiction that wouldn't be caught dead at a ball. Not all of them were technically alive, but that didn't mean they wanted to go to a stupid ball any more.
In one corner Bellatrix Lestrange was having a muttered conversation with the Wicked Witch of the West and from the tone of voice it seemed the latter would rather be left alone. In another the White Witch was sending ugly looks to the Queen of Hearts, but she seemed unwilling to take the challenge. Hans Gruber and the Sheriff of Nottingham seemed to be enjoying themselves greatly with copious amounts of sherry and some dirty songs, while Judge Turpin sat bent over some papers a few tables down in the light of a single candle.
A cloaked and dark figure could barely be distinguished from the tar-smeared wall behind him, the only thing that gave him away was the pale chin and lips that reflected the light of the lamp in an eerie way. He could have been a wax figure if it wasn't for the fact that the lips curled slightly in a smile when he spotted the tiny figure sitting a few feet down from him with a shot glass of rum sprawled between her legs, her finger slowly dipping into the glass, then into her mouth and back into the glass.
"You're far too pretty to be sitting here," the wax figure said and directed his smile at the fairy. "You should be at the ball." Tinkerbell looked up at him for a moment with angry eyes and flung her arm towards him to make the few drops of rum on her finger hit him, but he barely reacted.
"You're not one for balls either?" he said slowly and looked down in his glass before taking a slow sip of it. She snorted and scooped up a handfull of her rum and sucked it into her mouth before giving him a sly smile, got up and walked slowly with all the hip movement possible without falling over in her intoxicated state, placed her hand carefully on his arm and blinked seductively up at him with her green eyes. He raised one eyebrow in mild curiosity and she started pouting.
"Listen miss, you're far too small for me," he said and gave her a push in the direction she came from. She stumbled a few steps and turned to him with blazing cheeks and her hands on her well-formed hips before she thought better of it, turned back to her glass and bent over the rim, her backside strutting towards him as she slowly scooped up another handful of rum and lapped it from her hand.
"Fairy dust, Dracula," she mouthed as she turned back and continued slowly licking the rum off her hand.
He raised both eyebrows before he nodded slowly and chuckled. Slowly he reached out a hand to snap up the key the bartender had silently provided in the meantime and held out his arm to her. "Allow me," he said in a silky voice and she smiled innocently to her before scrambling up on his sleeve and made herself comfortable with her arms behind her head in the crook of his elbow before they departed to the room above the pub.


Yes, we got three Alan Rickman characters in the same room, how is the universe not blowing up from the awesomeness?
There's no actual porn in this post, unless I feel like writing more later today, and I guess Tinkerbell isn't at the ball because Wendy is there. I've got nothing against either characters, but I don't think they would go to the same ball if it could be helped.