Disclaimer: I do not own Xiaolin Showdown

In The Absence Of Emotion

It wasn't love; sometimes he had to remind himself of that.

It was, in his own words, for the sake of evil. With the young Xiaolin monks growing ever stronger and the constant, irritating presence of Hannibal Bean, the need for an ally, of sorts, was understandable and desirable. And at first, that was all the Heylin witch had been to him: an ally. She lived with him, it was true, but that was mostly because he was a firm believer in the idea of 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'. He did not exactly have friends, but he did have a good supply of enemies.

Since she had teamed up with his worst enemy during the Heylin eclipse – almost two years ago – Chase was naturally very wary of Wuya, and although he kept her around he did not place trust in her; to do so would be dangerous, if not borderline brainless.

However, over the last two years, things had changed between them, and now neither truly knew where they stood on the grand scale of things.

Actions and words passed between them effortlessly, behind closed doors and occasionally publicly, but he did not deny that there was a distinct lack of emotion behind them, at least on his part – he knew that the witch was likely on the same wavelength but he had never delved into her mind to find out if his assumptions were correct.

If he had not been keeping such a strict report of everything of possible consequence that happened each day, he would not have been able to remember their first kiss; it had not been planned nor had it immediately led to anything more, it had simply happened and then they had parted, going their separate ways. And although he knew, from the records he kept carefully, when that kiss had occurred, he did not remember exactly how it had happened, or who had leaned in first. The truth was that, with so many more things happening around them all the time, it had just simply slipped his mind; details of a kiss with Wuya were not as important, in reality, as details of the fighting styles of his enemies, and so of course he prioritised accordingly.

He knew – again, from records – that it was around a year ago when he started to sleep with her on a regular basis. He always referred to their nights spent together as 'relieving desires' or, more bluntly, simply as 'having sex'. Never, not once, as 'making love' – namely, because they were not.

Although he spent nights with her, shared passionate kisses with her and tolerated her presence in his home constantly, he was not in love with Wuya. And very occasionally, just when the mood was right, he would wonder why he wasn't.

It wasn't her appearance: for a fifteen hundred year old witch who'd been through more than her fair share of fights, Wuya was an attractive woman. She was not beautiful; more glamorous. Her appeals lay more in her fiery, evil personality than in her appearance, in his opinion, but that did not take away from the fact that she was, when unclothed and spread across black silk sheets, not too hard on the eyes.

It was not, either, the fact that she had betrayed him. Honestly, he had always known that she would. When he had restored her body but without her powers, he had known that, sooner or later, she would betray him to gain the things she was loyal to: shen gong wu and power. The fact that it had been almost a full year before she had, to his knowledge, betrayed him was rather impressive by Wuya's standards.

Finally, it was not that he did not trust her, although he could not deny that he didn't. He didn't trust her, it was true, but anyone with fifteen hundred years worth of general knowledge knew that you didn't have to fully trust someone to love them completely.

It annoyed him, if he was honest with himself; which, on this matter, he was not. He had ever opportunity and even some genuine reasons – she was a skilled fighter, could be easily bought with shen gong wu, knew impressive sexual techniques forgotten by modern society – to fall for the witch. And yet, he had not.

It was simple enough: Chase Young had kept himself closed off from that kind of emotion for so long that he had genuinely forgotten how to love another.

Ever since his first bitter taste of that soup, given to him by the one he now loathed more than anyone else, he had cared only about himself, about power and techniques and evil. He had forgotten what it truly meant to love someone else, and now, he finally realised, he was suffering from it.

He would never love Wuya because he did not know how to.

There were times when any other person would have told the red haired witch how amazing she was and how much she meant to them. Chase did not do so, however. Chase Young simply sneered and made a sarcastic comment before leaving her alone.

There were times when any other would have leaned affectionately into the hand she placed on their cheek; Chase brushed her off carelessly.

There were times when, following love making, he had the opportunity to tell her that he loved her. But he did not, and he said nothing of the sort. Instead he got up and headed to the shower, because sleeping with such consequent fluids on ones skin was uncomfortable.

Chase did not know how Wuya felt, although he guessed that she was rather using him the way he was using her – a part of him would have liked her to have confessed undying love for him, if only for the amusement it was sure to bring, and yet he knew Wuya would not give him this.

How long would it be before someone, anyone, offered her more than he could? Shen gong wu, her powers, the chance to rule the world once more...

Any of these things would bribe the Heylin witch. Her loyalties lay elsewhere, not with the man she lived and slept with. And if nobody offered her these things, she would herself find the means to obtain them. Her patience with Chase would, he knew, wear thin one day, and then would vanish entirely. He only wondered how long it would take.

He wondered also if it would be different if he told her that he had genuine feelings for her; if he said the magic word, would she develop loyalty to him? If he confessed undying love for her, would she reciprocate?

He would never know because he would never act.

Those emotions that he could have felt – love, joy, acceptance – were not things within his reach. It was impossible for him to confess love to Wuya without lying about it – and although lying was a skill he had long ago perfected, he had no true need of her love and so no need to pretend that he himself possessed this emotion.

So it was because of all this that, when Wuya's fingers closed around his own, lying in his own bed following an hour's worth of intimate activity, he pulled his hand away, rose from the bed and headed out of the room towards the bathroom.

Because he had no need of love.

Please R&R. There is maybe a possibility of a sequel for this little one-shot, so let us know if you think it's worth it or if we should leave it as it is.