Disclaimer: If I owned Danny Phantom, would I let it end? Ever? Now think about that long and hard. I'm a big fan.
AN: This, like Drawn to the Blackened Skies, was written and posted on a whim. Despite the advice from a close friend that this was a bad idea. But I think Vlad is too perfect a villain to just leave alone (even though my characterization stinks). The big question today is this: who is this woman? I don't know. This is a Vlad/Insert-female-here pairing. It can be Vlad/Cat, Vlad/OC, Vlad/some-cannon-character. If you'd like to tell me, then I'll be thrilled. Remember, all reviews are appreciated.
But please, don't kill me.
…Tremble…
She leaned forward, slowly, tentatively, doubt tinting every movement.
Of course she wasn't sure. There was too much darkness in him to ever grant her that luxury. But she pushed on, past doubt and self-consciousness. It was a stupid guess, but she ignored her better sense.
They made contact, his lips surprisingly soft, only veined with that familiar strength. They parted, and she studied him up close: his face was stuman and languid; his eyes crimson, sublime in their intensity. His hair was still silver, his skin still a human color, but she could see it now: the Spirit within, barely tethered in that Mortal body.
She wasn't sure whether to smile or recoil. So she did neither.
Vlad Masters wore a smile—that odd, victorious half smile, the one he used when he was letting you think that you had won. He made a sound somewhere between a hum and a chuckle, and turned away. His final glance back was no promise—she would never earn a promise from him—but some musing that he would likely return. She nodded, though he had long since left the room and couldn't see.
When he returned, she would be there to greet him.