Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy or Underworld
A/N: This is pretty much at the end of Underworld a what if…Please enjoy a little Buffy Lucian plot.
Pretty much Lucian is laying ther dying of silver poisoning-remember he gets shot?
The leather clad blonde woman swore under her breath as she walked onto the train. Her senses were in overdrive, adrenaline already pumping into her blood and her muscles tensing in anticipation. The sweet metallic scent permeated the terminal and made the young woman quickly exit the train.
Ignoring the other passengers she weaved over towards a service door, breaking the lock she slipped inside and inhaled deeply. Locking down on the scent, she jogged through the corridors, duster whispering against itself as she moved.
The smell was getting stronger, clamping down on her more animalistic instincts she pulled out a dagger and threw her senses out in all directions. There was no way she was going in blind.
At last she stepped in a puddle of drying blood, in fact, the entire hall was splattered with it. Only thing was, it wasn’t human. The donors were lycans and vampires. The ground was littered with bullet casings and empty magazines. There had been some kind of massacre here.
She followed the trail to a ladder that led downward, sighing she climbed downward, dagger firmly held between her teeth. Stopping a few rungs above a pool of water, she grumbled in disgust, there were two bodies half submerged. She jumped over them to land on mostly dry stone. She kept going, her ears picking up on the only other sound down here, a very faint rasp of breath every few moments.
“Shit,” holstering the dagger she ran down the darkening passage and hauled the heavy metal door open.
She scanned the small room, there was no one. Looking again she inhaled sharply, an unmoving leg peeked out from a corner of crumbled cement wall. Moving around it she braced herself for an attack.
She relaxed almost instantly. Glassy dark eyes stared blankly up at her, all of the man’s veins bulging a flat gray color. It was his
breathing she had heard. Kneeling down beside him, she brushed her palm against his forehead. He was clammy.
“What’s your name?”
Her voice seemed to snap him out of whatever had his attention, his head shifted almost imperceptibly towards her, his voice was faint, broken, “Lu-lucian.”
She tilted her head and pulled off her coat, “I’m Buffy, Lucian. I can help you, but you have to trust me, can you do that?”
He nodded slightly, his face tight with pain, “Yes.”
Her arms exposed she put one wrist to his lips, “Drink.”
Lucian’s eyes were a bit clearer, he stared at her in wonder, and surely, if she knew what he was she had to know what she would become. Even with human blood he doubted his life would be saved, the silver was killing him as his bloodstained lips caressed her lily white, soft flesh.
Lips parting slightly he let his tongue scrape along an unseen vein. This woman, Buffy, she tasted of vanilla and power. Pressing his tongue more assuredly to her wrist, he lapped at the flawless skin, inhaling the pure goodness of her body.
The lycan’s daze was broken at her almost breathy command to bleed her. Looking at the woman who had a halo of blonde hair, bright hazel eyes, and soft lips curved faintly upward.
Eyes locked he raised one arm with difficulty to hold her wrist to his mouth. Laving the tender flesh once more, he punctured his offering as gently as he could, canines sliding through layers of skin, muscle, and tendons in search of her life’s blood.
It hit his tongue almost instantly, warm, sweet, tangy, and spicy. It was extremely heady. He half moaned half-growled deep in his throat as his eyes flashed to blue. He regretted it, allowing his control to slip, he waited, expecting to see the fear in her eyes, instead he found that while he gorged himself her lids had slid all but closed and her chest was heaving.
With one last pull, he retracted his fangs to lick her flesh clean. Surprisingly, his breathing was becoming easier, his heart pumping at a normal rate. His veins returning to normal and strength returning to him, perhaps she was his angel.
Refocusing he found the woman braced against the crumbled wall, she was trembling and her breath came in shallow pants. Rising from his bed of stones, Lucian smoothed his hand against her cheek, lifting her chin so she could see him.
Voice stronger, but still soft, Lucian shifted to support Buffy, “We need to get out of here, and then I’ll take you to a hospital.”
His body healed, his mind began to process what had happened. The battle must be over, instinctually he knew that Michael had triumphed. That meant a vampire clean up crew would soon come and cart away the bodies. He had to disappear.
So caught up in his thoughts he almost didn’t hear her whispered plea, “No hospitals, please. Just give me a minute and I’ll be fine.”
Wrapping an arm around her waist he pulled her to her feet and supported her, “Haven’t got a minute, we need to find shelter now.”
“My apartment is on Murphy Street, we’ll be safe there. Can you manage?”
He didn’t answer he just picked her up fully and made his way towards one of the secret exits. It didn’t take long to get up to street level but a new problem presented itself. While it was early in the morning, only and hour or two past midnight people still wandered the streets. Steeling himself, the famed lycan pulled Buffy closer to his chest, and stepped out of the alley. Striding down the street, he kept his eyes focused in front of him or on his latest donor who was lingering between consciousness and unconsciousness.
The past few days had gone horrifically, Viktor had awoken, and Kraven had double-crossed him. Lucian believed himself a fool for trusting the idiot vampire, believed he would not stain his delicate little hands. War spared no one, no woman or child was safe. This Lucian knew well.
Careful not to jostle his bundle, the deceivingly young man took the stairs up to the designated building two at a time. Scanning the little list of names for the doorbell, he spotted her name next to the number three. He fumbled slightly before managing to pull the front door open and get to the elevator.
Shoving at the button he took a moment to stare down at his savior, her eyes were closed and her breathing had leveled off into almost silence…sleep. She was light as a feather to him, in this state she seemed so fragile, her venture into the sewers, and the multiple weapons on her body attested to the fallacy of that assumption.
At her door, he debated breaking the lock or finding her key, his usual impropriety be damned modus operandi was abandoned, only to find that his curious bundle didn’t seem to have the sense to lock her door. He pushed the door open the rest of the way with his foot, and found his curiosity growing at an alarming rate.
Upon her walls were weapons, and upon her bookshelves books upon demons and languages he had no experience in.
Shoving all that aside he set Buffy down on the couch and pulled the throw from the back of the couch around her.
All his life, Lucian had known one thing. Humans were worth nothing more than food. They were disposable. This human he now watched was disposable. His supposedly frozen heart clinched, that wasn’t true, she was no longer disposable, if she could survive his bite, she would be like him, immortal.
Eyes unfocused the master lycan stared through the tiny woman for what seemed like a moment but in truth, it was hours.
She only stirred when the sun was upon her skin. It bathed her in a golden light. While it didn’t ruin the picture of beauty she created, she was not nearly as stunning as she was by moonlight. The light seemed almost too harsh on her.
Her lips parted slowly, “Stupid drums.”
Lucian couldn’t move, like a dear caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck he was frozen.
Her eyes drifted open and Buffy found herself looking at a fine specimen of male draped over her chair, “I assume this means we’re both more or less alive?”
In a flash, Lucian straightened in the chair, “Yes. The next full moon you will change otherwise you would be dead. Why did you do it? Why did you offer?”
“Did you want to die,” she shot back.
His eyes flashed, “No.”
“Then why question it. Blood is life, and you were on death’s doorstep-believe me, I know.”
Lucian scowled and suppressed a growl, “You’ll change, why would you want that?!”
Buffy shook her head and checked her wrist, healed, “You think vampires and lycans are all that exist, no, you know about immortals. Well, guess what, you’re looking at one, I can’t be turned-into anything.”
In a flash he was on top of her, hands clasped around her wrists, “The only immortal is Alexander Corvinus. Who are you?”
“Geez, this is what I get for saving your life? A little more than ten years ago I was resurrected from the dead, I didn’t ask for it, now I can’t die, I can’t age. I’m stuck between life and death, forever-unchanging.”
Grasp relaxing, Lucian searched her eyes, there was only pain, years of it.
“What do we do now,” her honey warm voice cut through his revelation.
“I need to figure out what is going on, if I successfully made a hybrid, then things will change,” Lucian had a slightly glazed look.
His weight almost fully against her she looked up, “We, I'm coming with. I’ve got nothing better to do, and I’ve got eternity and then some.”
Lucian smirked, “Well then, we’ll be getting to know each other very, very well.”
Smirking in a Spike-esque way Buffy shifted against the roguish lycan, “I guess we will…but only if you can keep up. Lucie.”
Mwahaha! I’ve been working on this idea for way too long. This is to go with my photo manipulation. Please review, I always love to hear what people think.