rated T for Teen, or Y-14.
main characters: Darla, Erik Lencsherr (Magneto)
disclaimer: Darla was created by Joss, Magneto belongs to Marvel.
distribution: any lists I send it to, Luba if she wants it, otherwise ask.
notes: Twisting's FfA pairing #1680. Sequel to Seeds of Destruction.
Darla leaned back in the lounge chair, reading the day's newspaper as she relaxed beside the hotel's swimming pool. The moon was nearly full, giving her more than enough light to read about what was going on in the world. Power plays in the legislature, corruption among the judges, actors having affairs... Really, it was just the same old stories with different names and a higher quality of picture.
One article caught her eye - a report on a failed attempt to capture the mutant terrorists calling themselves 'the Brotherhood of Mutants.' The soldiers had lost control of the situation when one of the mutants waved his hand and flipped their tank over, nearly crushing them. That sounded oddly familiar to her, a wave of a hand causing metal to act oddly. That young man after the war... What had his name been? Oh yes, Erik.
Had Erik done that? Had he gone from someone barely capable of defending himself from a pair of arrogant men with guns to flipping tanks onto soldiers with a wave of his hand? Were his hands still so thin and pale? Her lips curved into a thoughtful smile as she pondered the changes the years could have brought to Erik.
It seemed she had somewhere to go after she grew bored with this hotel. Someone to track down, a curious occurrence to investigate. A corner of her mind wondered if Erik might need another helpful moment of advice.
Inside, a large man was ranting about freaks, and how stupid it was for society to bend itself and accommodate them. If God had let someone be born feeble-witted, or with twisted limbs, or struck them down with illness, then either kill them or shut them away. He blustered and ranted, downing shots of potent alcohol with cinnamon.
Darla posed herself in the doorway, a few droplets of water falling down her breasts, her hair pulled back, the wrap almost sliding from her hips. She had the attention of every man except the old man asleep in the corner, and she knew it. Slowly, she sauntered across the room, moving as if she had no worries and didn't realize that she could have any man in the room with a smile and a crook of her finger. She kept glancing at the loudmouthed fool, and then glancing away, as if he'd fascinated her with his wide shoulders and large mustache.
He actually had the wit to follow at a distance, instead of storming after her. She made certain that he was able to tell what room she was using, and then settled herself to wait. He wanted her, and was too much of an impatient fool not to try to take what he wanted. She was counting on it, in fact.
She had changed out of the swimming wear, letting the wrap fall over a chair and slipped on a silken robe. The door opened while she was brushing her hair, and as the man locked himself inside, she remembered to fix an expression of surprise on her face. "Who...?"
"This is what you wanted, what we both want." The arrogant words emerged, and then he was there, pulling her up from the chair to crush his lips to hers. A human woman would have been helplessly caught in his grip, unable to protest effectively.
His hands moved over her body, and she managed to get her hand up, running fingers through his hair. It was almost a pity that so few men had hair long enough to use as a handle, and this man's hair was too short for a good grip, but that would just mean she had to hold a bit on his skull as well. Grasping, she pulled his head back and sank her teeth into his throat, enjoying the change from lustful dominance to shocked fear and denial. He couldn't believe and accept what was happening, even as he sank into fatal unconsciousness.
She managed to send his corpse down the laundry chute. The sound of his fall would be muffled by the used sheets and towels, and nobody would look for a while. Even when they did, it would be hard to figure out where he'd died, and who might have been responsible for the dropping of the corpse.
Darla would be long gone before those questions were resolved.
If she’d been more focused on style instead of results, she would have been insulted by how simple it was to determine where the ‘evil mutants’ were hiding. Being more practical than that, the news that they were lurking in a cave system with more access points than Paris made things so much simpler. If she could get into the caves, she would not only be safe from the sunlight, but she could wait for a good moment to see what sort of man Erik had become.
The few soldiers still searching through the surrounding areas made wonderful meals, and one or two were even interesting for a while beforehand. But she didn’t dally too much, and slipped into the caves. A wise person would investigate the potential opposition before making contact, and that’s what she intended to do.
There was Erik, older, with more hair and nice muscles, and a boy of maybe sixteen that might have been Erik, if life had been less cruel. There was a girl of the same age with dark red curls that reeked of magic and spoke that horrible gypsy language, and Darla had to resist the urge to find her and rip out her tongue on general principle. If she couldn’t kill the gypsies that had cursed her Angelus again, another would be just as entertaining. But she had more serious matters to focus on first. There was a man in a faded green cloak who kept muttering passages from Shakespeare, who she dismissed as little difficulty in her observations. A strange, hunched figure of a man proved to be able to leap like some sort of human frog, and they called him Toad. She still couldn’t figure anything out about the unamused Asian woman in armor.
Finally, she found Erik alone, making a group of small metal disks circle over his hand. She stepped into the cavern he was practicing in, and smiled, “That’s a bit more complicated than turning guns into pretzels, isn’t it.”
He spun around, the bits of metal hovering, and focused on her, eyes searching for details. His voice faltered as he whispered, “Darla? You look… remarkably good.”
“And you’ve put on a bit of weight.” She moved closer, letting her eyes rove over his body. “It looks good. Almost delicious, actually.”
“Thank you, I think,” he was frowning at her, and made a gesture towards the forest. “How did you get here?”
“You weren’t that hard to find, and I just… removed the soldiers. It’s rather simple to do, actually.” She leaned against a wall, and smiled, not trying to keep the harmless mask in place. “You were in the paper.”
“Why are you here, Darla?”
The bits of metal were spinning, and the feeling of energy was rising, prickling on her skin. “You want to make them listen to you. You need someone willing to handle the people they’ll send to kill you.”
“What makes you say that?” He wasn’t arguing, but he did look surprised. “Why do I have the feeling you’re about to make a suggestion?”
“I told you, you made the newspaper headlines.” Her smile held a trace of dismay. “It seems that ‘Magneto’ has become the new boogey-man for the world. Since you’ve taken my place, I wanted to check in.”
For a moment, he was silent, but that prickly feeling passed through her, causing an odd chill. With a mix of fear and surprise, he sputtered, “You aren’t human.”
“Vampire.” She folded her arms just under her breasts, smiling as his gaze settled there. “I used to be human, now I’m not. I told you years ago that I thought you could go far in this world, now I think I might want to help out. What humans fear, they try to destroy, and you’ve frightened them. They’ll send soldiers and assassins, and I can help you with some of those little problems.”
“Dare I ask how?” One eyebrow lifted, and a hint of a smile played over his lips.
“It’s simple really,” Darla smiled, and licked her lips. “I kill them before they kill you. I win, you win.”
The smile that blossomed was all the sign that she needed to know that he’d accepted her offer. “You make a lovely bodyguard, though I doubt that would be anyone’s first thought on seeing you.”
She chuckled, and sauntered towards him. “I can guess what they’d think, and I know that game very well. Men expecting nothing more than a bed-companion won’t expect me to be any danger. The shock and denial makes a nice flavor.”
“The governments won’t stand a chance,” he chuckled. “Old tricks can still be very useful, and they probably won’t think you can even think beyond who can offer the most advantage.”
Running her finger over his cheek, she purred, “I know you can keep things very interesting.”
End Seeds of Destruction 2: Deadly Crop.