title: This Darling Boy Bites Back

author: lisa roquin

rating: Adult

fandom: BtVS/X-men

characters/pairings: Darla/Logan (Wolverine)

disclaimer: all copyrighted characters and their "universes" belong to their respective authors, writers, creators, production companies, producers and long lists of people that are so very much not me. Quite simply, if you recognize it, it isn't mine. No profit made, no harm intended, just having fun.

summary: A young sailor (Logan, well over a century pre-Xmen) runs into a damsel in distress on his two days shore leave in London. A damsel who turns out to have very sharp teeth.

warning: het, violence & violent sex (a vampire and a feral mutant, violence should be a given)

author's note: tthficforall pairing #1682, Canon points--eh, Logan's been there, done that on just about everything and thanks to Weapon X he doesn't remember much of it. Would Pre-Movieverse or AU make you feel better? Why don't we call it that then? Logan did end up a sailor and sailed to Japan back in the day, so a stop in London for supplies might not be too far out of line. *shrug* Put it where ever in the Marvel insano-continuum you want.

wordcount: 1661

Darla surveyed her prey one last time before she made her move. What height the boy had, not that there was much of it, was recently gained and still not quite adjusted to by his movements. Muscles had yet to attain the bulk the sturdy bone structure seemed to promise. Darla guessed him to be perhaps sixteen or seventeen, all pheremones and excitability. Perfectly delicious and the slightly feral defiant air about him made the young sailor all that much more delectable.

"Ya shouldn't be out walkin' by yerself, ma'am. Isn't the best of areas round here" the young voice was gruff with a touch of annoyance.

Darla looked up with him with a well practiced nervous smile. No, these dark filthy alleys near the docks, lined with pubs and filthy tenements, littered with drunks, whores and theives were not 'the best of areas". It was, in all honesty, one of the worst. An area where people could vanish without a trace. Few, if any, would notice one of their own had disappeared and those who did notice would never say a word about it for fear they might be next.

Darla knew that well. She knew this area well, for not only had it always been one of her favorite hunting spots in London, she'd been born here. Her mother had whored in the tavern that used to be only a street over. Her mother had died here, harshly aged and painfully disease ridden, an old woman at all of twenty-three.

Luck, beauty and determination had raised Darla from these streets, and the same fate as her mother, to mistress of her own brothel before the Master had sired her on her death bed. Fool boy, she knew these streets quite well. Better than he with his accent that came from no part of London, nor even any part of the Brittish Isles.

"Someting happened to my driver," Darla said in a deceptively frightened tone. Her eyes were demurely downcast to hide the hunger and triumph in them. Silly boy, he would be eating from the palm of her hand before she had him for her evening meal. She heard the sigh, almost physically felt his metal resignation at benig her would be savior.

She swallowed in a stunning imitation of nervousness. "It wasn't Thomas who drove my carriage here. I don't know what happened to him. I don't know what they planned for me but I managed to jump when the carriage slowed and run."

"Thomas yer husband?" the boy asked.

"No, Lord Baldwin died some time ago, he was a good deal older than I. Thomas was my driver."

The boy snorted, "Rich ol' bastard with money and one foot in the grave when ya got hitched up to him, eh? So yer family sell you off to him or you have the gumption to go lookin' fer gold yourself."

Darla had all she could do not to laugh at the boy's rudeness. She began to alter her evening's plan. There was potential in this boy. At least for a few weeks distraction until Angelus was finished with his obsessing over the little would-be nun with her visions. Certainly more entertaining than her grandchilde Penn. The only reason she didn't stake that fool was the master wanted Angelus to learn a lesson about siring the unworthy.

"Aw, dang it don't start snivelling. Let's get you home, lady."

Darla moved hesitantly, or at least the atrfully given appearance of hesitancy.

"I ain't got all night," the boy grumbled.

Darla played her part perfectly. Hesitant and seemingly afraid, she moved forward to walk at his side. Three streets later she pretended to stumble and wrench her ankle.

"Aw, damnit" the boy grumbled, but put an awkward arm around her waist to 'help' her.

"This just isn't my night" the boy was muttering again when three would-be attackers tried to rob them. Darla made a show of cringing against a dirty wall as the boy fought in front of her. He might not have his full growth but he was incredibly strong for his size, her breath quickened as she watch the too-bony form move. No, letting this one get his full growth before he was turned was too dangerous. He had the potential, just like her Angelus, to be a Master with in a handful of years, not decades. Another five or ten years would make the lad far too dangerous to control. Even now he had reflexes that could almost rival a Slayer's. He was quite handy with the knife he pulled from his boot as well.

Darla was panting nearly as hard as the boy when he was done with their attackers.

He turned and looked at her. The feral air was now in control, the boy's eyes were wild and fierce, his breathing heavy and ragged. God he was perfect. Angelus was either going to adore him, or try to stake him.

Darla bit her lip as she imagined having both her darling boys in her bed at once. She tamped down those thoughts in a rare effort of self-control. One thing at a time, and first thing was to get her new darling boy to her lair.

The frustrated arousal could be tasted in the air by the time they reached the house Angelus had so kindly emptied of it's owners for her before he went off after that girl. Ah, well, her darling boy's creative viciousness was a delight, even if at the moment it was annoying her. A seer had their uses, so she was willing to let Angelus have his games.

This darling boy was hard as a rock. Every stumble that pressed her breasts into his side, every slip that had her hand suddendly grasping the waist of his britches, or his backside to 'steady' herself.

"Alright, yer home, now what the hell you playing at, lady?" the boy snarled. An underlying scent of confusion and fear added a bit of spice to the barely held in check irritation and the feral streak barely reeled in after the fight in the alley.

Darla licked her lips, smirked and then wrapped her arms around his neck. The way she writhed against him caused him to hiss through his teeth and his hips to give an involentary buck against her. "You deserve a reward, darling boy," she said seductively as she tightened her arms around his neck and with a careful little hop had her legs wrapped around his waist in the next moment.

He growled. Darla tightened the grip her legs had upon him and ground herself against him. In a blink she was slammed and pinned roughly up against the foyer wall. So strong, so quick, and that growl! He was going to be a magnificent vampire. His split second of shock and confusion was chased away by purely feral, completely uncontrolled arousal.

"So powerful, my darling boy," Darla moaned out in delight.

"Logan," he growled, his eyes flashing his irritation at the endearment.

A strong hand was fumbling and tearing at her skirts. She cried out as the material of her drawers dug into her skin for a moment before they fell away in torn peices.

She thrust a hand between their bodies. If he noticed that she shouldn't have had the stregth to snap his belt with the yank she gave it or tear his own trousers in order to get to his cock, he certainly didn't act it. He was too far gone, too feral with need. Clumsy and rough as he gave her breast an excruciatingly painful squeeze, as he bit down on her neck hard enough to draw blood and make her cry out again. Magnificent. Brutal perfection. Not even her precious Angelus had had this much potential, and certainly not at such a tender age. And God, that growl!

He snarled and bit again as she roughly squeezed his cock.

"IN ME" she demanded as she guided him to her entrance with a decidedly painful grip on his arousal..

He slammed into her viciously. She screamed her delight and clawed his back, which only spurred on his own brutality. The heady copper tang of blood soon filled the air, slickening the back she tore at.

As her orgasm neared she let her true features slip forward, fangs sliced into his neck, unusually powerful blood spiced with pain and arousal crashed over her tongue. She clawed his back more deeply, legs and inner muscles clenching him as tightly as she could.

He screamed in completion mixed with more outrage and pain than feer, and began to fight.

Somehow, he managed to break from her hold, long knife-like bone talons now protruding from his knucles. "I ain't no body's supper, woman," he snarled as he sliced her from throat to groin with those claws, blood from the rapidly closing bite on his neck hit her eye, the salt-tang of the blood burnt her eye, almost an insult to the injury of being near-gutted.

Darla had never been so grateful for the pair of minions Penn had decided he needed. The stupid girls carried her up to bed. One went to hunt and managed to bring back a drunken old man in the less than two hours before dawn. The other sewed her wounds and cleaned her, as well as brought three of the 'toys' Penn kept in the cellar for her to feed upon. If her bastard puritanical grandchilde complained she would drain him before shoving a stake through his annoying heart. If she ever saw her second darling boy again, she wasn't going to be caught unawares. He was likely gone from London with tomorrow's tide but she would keep an eye out for him. There was something decidedly different about him, not just the talon-like claws. There'd been no hint of demon in his blood but still the blood had been stronger, more powerful than most humans.