Disclaimer: Don't own it and not sure if I really want to for fear of mussing up one of the most fantastic movies I've seen yet…

This is my first fiction for the Underworld fandom and I'm reasonably proud of it, so, as always, reviews are greatly appreciated. This fiction's also a pretty big deal for me personally because it's the longest one I've yet written (that I've posted for this account anyway and the stuff on my old account was nowhere near where I'd like it to be so…).

Oh, and if anyone who reviewed my Van Helsing fictions are reading this, thank you so much for the kind reviews. They really motivated me to get off my ass and write something, so I defiantly owe you guys all a huge amount of gratitude! Now… on to the fic!

They hadn't spoken since they'd left the Underworld. Since he'd become something even further from the man, then the lycan, he supposes, that he used to be. Since he was labeled an abomination by the very man – the vampire, he corrected himself – who Selene had come to know as a father. Since that same vampire, who was, in truth, responsible for the slaughter of her entire family, had attacked him, only to be felled by Selene herself, the daughter he'd sired to replace his own. Sometime between then and now the duo had lapsed into a deafening silence, which left Michael alone to his thoughts in the passenger's seat, too preoccupied even to care as the car's speedometer began to register triple digits. Fuck was she a fast driver.

His stomach lurched violently as the car sped into a banking curve, and he grimaced at the unpleasant knotting sensation in his gut. He braced himself, hands shooting out to meet the dashboard, and his head pitched forward, hair matted with sweat and blood slapping into his eyes. He scowled; Michael never used to be one to get carsick. The tires squealed as Selene pulled the car out of the turn, and Michael's brow knitted in confusion; his stomach was still twisting with a slight nausea. He groaned with pain. He thought immortals didn't get sick.

He hadn't been very loud, but he hadn't needed to be; the vocalization of his discomfort snapped Selene out of her thoughts and she looked over to appraise him. Michael was surprised to see her eyes widen – in realization or panic he didn't know, although he could think of a reason for neither – before her gaze hardened. Without warning, she whipped the wheel hard to the right, letting go of it completely. Michael looked on, shocked, before she clamped down on the wheel, regaining control. The car lurched to the side of the road and Selene angled the car so it leaped forward onto a narrow trail winding off into the woods that Michael hadn't even noticed. They went crashing through the trees, thick branches digging into the side of the car. The sound was, to Michael's newly advanced hearing, nails on a chalkboard, and something in him howled in pain. He clutched his head.

Selene slammed on the brakes, and the car shuddered as the tires fought for traction on the loose dirt. Michael was flung back in his seat as they came to a screeching halt. "Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, breathing heavily. "What the hell was that for?"

He received no response from Selene, who had, apparently un-phased by what Michael considered a harrowing experience, gotten out of the driver's seat to rummage around in the trunk. He tried to catch a glimpse of her in the rearview mirror, but he found he couldn't see over the popped up trunk.

What is she doing? he wondered. But before the though had even finished forming in his head, his gut buckled again and Michael doubled over in his seat. What the hell was happening to him? He gritted his teeth against another swell of nausea, clutching his stomach as if to placate it; to his horror, however, he felt something shift under his fingers. Frantically, he tore at what was left of his shirt, struggling to maneuver in the tiny car. He ripped it off him, flinging it carelessly somewhere in the backseat, vaguely aware that his breaths were more labored than they should be. He looked down at his torso, and this time the wave of nausea turning in his stomach was justified. Michael watched, revolted, as his muscles shifted underneath his skin, expanding and twisting just below the surface. His eyes squeezed shut and he pushed his head back against the headrest, propping himself up. He cursed under his breath, his own voice sounding foreign to him. "Shit" he moaned. This could not be good.

The trunk slammed close and the small car shook with the impact. Michael heard Selene approach, her purposeful strides crunched gravel and dirt underfoot, and suddenly she stopped. The passenger's door was flung open, and somehow Michael didn't need to open his eyes to know that she had crouched down beside the open door. "Shit" he heard her whisper, and despite everything he felt his mouth twist into a painful smirk. Took the words right out of my mouth.

"C'mon, Michael" Selene spoke, and although Michael heard the authority in her voice he couldn't bring himself to get out of the car. His head reeled as he felt his ribs pop below his skin. "Michael…" and this time her voice was laced with an uncharacteristic concern. She stood, heaving a worried sigh, before he felt her hands grip his shoulders. With a strength that still managed to surprise him, the vampiress lifted him as carefully as she could from the car, setting him down outside. He pushed himself to a sitting position against the car, back propped up by the smooth metallic surface. His head lolled to the side as another wave of nausea passed, and he opened his eyes to see Selene staring straight at him.

She was crouched down again next to him, unspeaking. There was something urgent in her eyes, but Michael ignored it in favor of watching the moonlight pour over the slick black leather of her cat suit. She shifted her weight and Michael watched, transfixed, as she reached around him, fingers closing around the packet of blood she dropped on the ground. The trunk, he realized with a start. That's what she was looking for in the trunk. She's…hungry?

Somehow, the last thing he had expected was for Selene to hold it out to him.

He knew she was waiting for him to take the packet, but his stomach churned at the thought of it. He turned his head, disgusted both by what she was asking him to do, and the creature in him that clamored for it. "I can't" he groaned, weakly pushing her hand away from him.

"You cannot expect to control your change if you do not feed" she explained, still watching him. "That's just how it works." Her tone was stern, and Michael looked at her incredulously, knowing that the speech had sounded rehearsed even to her. She bit the inside of her lip in apparent frustration, inwardly startled by the small gush of blood; she hadn't meant to pierce her skin. She recovered quickly, sighing, "Michael, I'm not kidding. There's no way for you to retain control once you change if you continue to fight it. Whether you want it to or not your body needs this." Once again she offered him the packet.

He shook his head stubbornly. "No" he hissed, suddenly all too aware of the sweet, coppery smell of the blood held out to him, and the salty smell of the cool sheen of sweat that now covered his body. He sniffed discretely, inhaling a sharp breath of air, and this time there was something else mixed with those scents; a clean, confident smell that could only be the vampiress crouched so closely next to him, and another coppery smell…blood. Hers. He felt himself slipping, the monster within him roused by the onslaught of smells, fighting to emerge and devour the blood in front of him. Panicked, he slammed his head back against the car, the resulting throbbing in the base of his skull serving to distract him from the rest of his pain. His hands clenched and unclenched frantically at his sides, fingers tearing at the forest floor. He squeezed his eyes shut as a surge of pain rocketed up his spine, and he thrashed as his throat constricted, lungs burning. He heard, rather than felt, himself gasping for air. His body began to writhe with pain.

Selene's brows furrowed ominously, a small pout forming on her lips. "Damnit" she swore quietly, reaching out with her free hand to touch Michael's bare arm, imploring him to meet her gaze. Her fingers were like ice on his heated skin and although somehow the pain lessened it didn't dissipate, and he whipped his head to the side, grimacing. A low growl escaped his throat, reverberating in his chest before he stopped. Everything stopped; the audible popping of his bones, the twisting of his muscles. His convulsions lessened before ceasing completely. Selene braced herself, knowing whatever happened next would not be good, although her fingers still pressed lightly into his bicep.

When his eyes snapped open to lock with hers, she was not surprised to see they were pitch black.

She fought the urge to swear again, not knowing what would aggravate the newly awakened beast. Michael, although not fully transformed to his hybrid form, was damn close to it, and it was clear from the predatory glint in his dark eyes that he was no longer in control. This would not be easy.

He was panting heavily, chest heaving up and down, watching her. Selene forced herself not to flinch under his gaze, instead slowly bringing the blood packet to her own mouth. Without breaking their eye contact she bit into the plastic, elongated fangs sliding out of her gums to puncture the bag. The blood trickled out of the two neat holes, clinging to her bottom lip as she pulled the bag away, soundlessly offering it to the beast. To Selene's relief, he took it, black eyes seeming to study its contents. She watched, silently fascinated as his nostrils flared at the metallic tang of the blood. The beast considered the bag for a moment, surveying the small rivulets of blood drain from the puncture holes, before tossing it aside. His expression darkened as he craned his neck to face her, and without warning he leapt forward, pinning her to the ground underneath him with such a speed she'd had no time to react. The vampiress's eyes widened, flashing to a brilliant cobalt before she regained control. This was still Michael, she knew, and it was with a certain amount of satisfaction that she felt her elongated fangs retract to their normal size, eyes fading back to chocolate brown.

Everything in her screamed for her to fight, to struggle against what her instincts knew as an opponent, an enemy. Although he was stronger than her, of that she had little doubt, the beast simply did not have her training, not her familiarity with close-range combat, and past experience had taught the vampiress well. But Selene quelled those instincts quickly; she had no time to deal with them right now. Michael's hands, not yet changed into the monster's sharp claws, were wrapped loosely around her wrists, keeping them restrained on either side of her. Selene glanced up, locking eyes with the beast determinedly, slowly trying to slider her wrists free of his grasp.

His grip tightened, his hold on her remaining.

Selene pursed her lips, her pulse quickening as she began to comprehend that this had the potential of turning into real trouble. She had miscalculated; this was most certainty not still Michael Corvin. This was a threat, a real danger, and the necessity of her getting out of this situation was growing by the second.

"Michael" she called out, hoping to reach him behind the adrenaline and power surging through him. "Let go." Her tone was firm.

Her only response was a warm puff of breath hitting her face, and despite herself she recoiled, turning her head away from his. Had she maintained eye contact, Selene might have caught the flash of confusion, of hurt, in the beast's black eyes, but as it was all she saw was his head lean down towards her neck. He wore a wolfish grin, lips sliding upwards to reveal his fangs had emerged, and Selene berated herself for exposing her neck to him. She tensed, waiting for the beast's fangs to sink messily into her throat. Damnit, she thought, struggling again to free her wrists. How the hell do I get out of this?

His breath was hot, scalding against the cool skin of her collarbone, and Selene's movements became more frantic. His grip on her tightened again as his head dipped. He pressed his nose to the hollow of her neck, his olfactory senses overwhelmed by the sweat and grime still clinging to her skin from the battle in the Underworld, and the lingering scent of her, tainted now with the unfamiliar scent of fear. Michael barred his teeth, unable to control the beast as his fangs scraped roughly up the column of her neck. He could feel the blood rushing just under the surface of her skin. The vampiress braced herself, waiting for the hybrid's bite.

It never came. Miraculously, his fangs left her neck. The beast's head pulled back, seemingly satisfied, studying its prey. She turned her head back cautiously to face him, eyes hesitant. "Michael?" she asked, her voice guarded, but the beast didn't respond, his focus devoted fully to Selene's lips, still stained a bright crimson from the now discarded blood packet. Another low growl echoed in the back of his throat before his head darted forward, crashing his lips to hers.

Selene's sharp gasp was lost, silenced by Michael's mouth crushed against her own. Her eyes shot open, once again a frosty vampiric blue; she certainty hadn't expected this.

Her shock grew stronger as she felt Michael's teeth tug on her bottom lip, devouring the traces of blood hungrily. She snapped her eyes shut, unable to keep her body from arching up into his in response. The monster purred, Selene could feel the vibration send a tremor through her own body, and released his hold on her wrists in favor of tangling one hand in her hair, cupping the base of her head, while the others supported her back, pressing her further into him. Her body shuddered at the contact, hands gliding up his arms to trace the hard muscles of his back and shoulders. Her fingernails raked against his skin and the beast howled with pleasure, his lycan half emerging, arms wrapping possessively around her.

His lips left hers to trail rough kisses along her jawbone to just under her ear. Selene buried her head in his neck as he nipped almost playfully at her earlobe. She was unable to contain the small, contented whimper that escaped her, instead pressing it into his neck. Her mouth found the two raised puncture wounds on his neck, those she herself had made only hours before, already healing. Selene didn't even register the sensation of her fangs slipping out from her gums, elongating on their own, and, consumed by the bloodlust, she reopened the wounds, her fans sliding smoothly into Michael's neck for the second time that night.

He howled again, neck stretching taut beneath her bite, but the vampiress barely noticed, recognizing only to rich salty taste of his blood, now absent of the bitter silver nitrate, sliding down her throat, and their bodies compressed together.

She drank greedily, unable to stop until he forcibly pushed her away. Though she was still clouded by her instinctual bloodlust, Selene caught her reflection in Michaels' black hybrid eyes; her chin and lips were painted red with his blood, a few drops still clinging to her protruded fangs. She brought a hand to her mouth, wiping the blood away furiously. Her hands, too, became stained with the sticky substance.

Ashamed, she reached up, placing her hands on his chest to push him off her. He complied easily, rolling off the vampiress and into a kneeling position. Black eyes began to melt into brown, newly formed muscles rippling and shifting back into place as Michael, human Michael, began to regain control. He looked to Selene questioningly. She averted her gaze, pulling herself into a kneeling position that mirrored his own.

Michael's fingers reached up to his neck, tracing the mark she'd given him. He was surprised to find the wound had already stopped bleeding. "Selene…" he started, his voice tentative, unsure.

She flinched at hearing her name, and couldn't bear to look at him. Instead she busied herself with brushing the debris out of her hair, blue eyes slowly fading back to their natural brown. She didn't respond.

"Jesus Christ, will you at least look at me!" Michael exclaimed, surprising them both with the intensity of his words. He rocked forward, leaning closer to her, disheartened when she visibly tensed. He sighed.

Her gaze flickered towards him, coming to rest on the mark on his neck. "I…" she began, before closing her mouth, unsure of what to say. Her lips drew into a thin line, expression grim, but Michael watched her hopefully. When she spoke again her tone was clipped. "I'm sorry" she said sincerely, picking herself up off the ground. She moved to turn away from him and walk off to collect herself in the silence of the woods, but was stopped by Michael's hand shooting out to clamp once again around her wrist.

"Just…wait" he pleaded when she shot him a questioning look. She fidgeted under his gaze, clearly uncomfortable with what she had done. Slowly, with his free hand, Michael reached out, fingers closing around the previously discarded blood packet. He bought it to his mouth with a grimace, making himself drink. The blood was thick and slippery against the back of his throat but he forced it down, watching for Selene's reaction. When the packet was empty he tossed it at her feet. "Okay?" he asked. "I should have listened to you."

Gently, with her other hand, she pried his fingers from around her wrist, slipping out of his grasp. She still refused to meet his gaze, shamed by her own actions, but she did help him to his feet. She motioned vaguely deeper into the forest, "There's a safe-house not far form here. A few miles." He nodded wordlessly, following her as she walked away from the car in the direction she'd pointed.

The human part of Michael knew he was in for another long silence, but he monster lying dormant within him was contented with the fact that Selene, navigating through the dark woods ahead of him, no longer smelled only of her unique scent; now, his mind registered, her smell was mixed, tangled, with his own, and as he kept a steady pace behind her he realized with a foolish grin that he, too, must now smell of her.

Both the human and hybrid in him were equally pleased by that thought.

So... let me know what you think, even if it's just a couple of words. Feedback is greatly appreciated.