I don't own Underworld, which would make my life if I did, or Twilight. Which I would burn, twice.

1. Reunion

The damp streets and cold air made the worn street looked even more depressing and dead. Footsteps were a rarity here. Once or twice in an hour you could hear the anxious pace of someone rushing to get out of this wretched place. Once, in a very distant past, this carcass of a city had been the center of a bustling metropolis. But now, it hardly barred a dark semblance to the place it used to be. Now it served as a warning to the future generations living around this area of how things change for the worse so easily.

And yet, Sonja waited. Here. In this mask of a city, for there was nothing left within its crumbling walls, she waited. For it was the only place to be truly alone. And to hold meetings of the cautious nature. It was the only place that no one would look for her. She had only told two other souls of where she would be, if she weren't to return. The "man" she was meeting and Selene; a Death Dealer she had come to consider a friend, and confidant. A small part of her thought that this would be her last night on earth. She had seen many a century of nights such as this one. But never here.

The only way she would ever think of stepping onto this abandoned square kilometer, that had been abandoned so long ago because no one wanted to think of the horrors that would appear if they even thought of removing one brick from a structure, was to meet with him.

Him. He was the very incarnation of her worst horrors and the incarnation of her entire species' horrors. She had only agreed to this dangerous conference so that she would get the chance to end her horrors. To end Him.

She looked around her. On every one of her sides, there was a wall. Cold, dark and crumbling walls. A single window allowed entry for her and for a gentle film of moonlight to coat the entire room with light. Any human would be blind this close to complete darkness, but she could see just as well if it was mid-day. But this wasn't human's affair. And it was the middle of the night in a strange place where she wasn't top of the food chain anymore.

Sonja felt the dagger in her boot, rubbing her calf against it. Its cold silver blade gave her a dark hope. That she would be able to kill this master of nightmares tonight. If she kept her head on straight, he won't be able to beguile her so she lost her chance to use it. She had gone through every scenario in her mind that she could think of. If he charges her, throw the knife into his heart. He talks for a while then grabs her, stab his side and puncture his beastly lungs. If all else fails, run; even into daylight.

Hopefully, Sonja thought, the sun doesn't shine though the depression over this place.

God knows it would not be her saving grace.

Then he was there. There was no warning, no ominous swish through the air. She hadn't even turned around to face him.

But he was there. She felt him through her very skin.

He was there.

Suddenly, that dagger in her boot was feeling pretty insignificant. She was scared. Sonja, the elder, the death dealer, the warrior was scared.

To death.

But her father had taught her to never give into terror. Even in the presence of such a monster.

Gingerly but gracefully, she turned to meet the master of her fear. What lied before her eyes was something that she could have never expected. A man with long hair tied in a loose ponytail and a fire in his green eyes was leaning against one of the dilapidated walls. He was clad in a long leather jacket and simple pants and boots. Not unlike her own clothing, except she was wearing a bullet-resistant corset and a similar jumpsuit.

Her breath caught, he was staring at her with such a passion she knew nothing good would come of this meeting; a meeting which she still needed to be informed of the agenda.

Almost as gingerly as she had trod a moment ago, he took small steps toward. The blade in her boot would feel a lot better if it were in her hand. But he stopped inching towards her before that urge became to powerful.

"Don't be afraid." He voice was gentle yet held a power to it that gave credit to his reputation. Unfortunately, it did nothing to calm her nerves down. They seemed to be dancing to the beat of her nightmares.

"Please, this a diplomatic confluence. Nothing else." A new element was added to his voice. But Sonja refused to recognize it. She couldn't believe that he of all people could hold a note of desperation in his voice when he was so obviously in control.

"Can I trust you, Lucien?" She knew she wouldn't; couldn't trust him either way he responded. It was merely a formality. Lucien only responded with a tired grin. That was even more unnerving to Sonja. She just wanted to get this meeting over with.

"What is the meaning of this, confluence?" She thanked god that her voice had held. Any moment she would start trembling.

Why am I so scared? She asked herself.

I've fought against William's brood before. Lucien was certainly more human than they.

Lucien shrugged. It was a strange thing to witness Lucien of all people shrug.

"It's whatever may come of it." Sonja was confused. Staring at him through narrowed eyes she nearly whispered,

"You mean to say that you ask me here, Viktor's daughter, an elder, to chat?" Rage had long since replaced every fiber of fear in her body. She was risking her life, her council seat, her father's trust and her sanity just to talk with a mangy animal! But Lucien kept his face just as taunt as it ever was. The only thing that gave him away was his eyes. They went from a tired stare to a dead gaze. He immediately stood up and turned to face the wall that he originally leaned on. Sonja was perturbed by this reaction. Thinking he was going to attack, she reached for her knife. But she had not even moved her hand when he asked,

"Don't you think it's a little outdated to still be carrying around knives this day and age?"

Her entire body froze. Yes, it was outdated to still rely on a dagger for protection in the twenty-first century but a gun would be a bit too obvious for this kind of occasion. Discretion was an understatement to how this "meeting" should be handled. And Sonja was still floating in her rage filled confusion of the ambivalent way Lucien handled their meeting. They were immortal enemies, high on each other's hit list.

Sonja sighed. She really wanted this experience to be long forgotten before the sun rose.

"Just tell me why I'm here."

Lucien turned around. Fear etched in his face. Sonja was becoming increasing disturbed by the difference of all her preconceived notions about the infamous Lycan Lord and his actual nature.

"Caius is becoming a problem." His voice retained none of the levity that was so prominent in his previous behavior.

Sonja stared at Lucien for a long while, before bursting out laughing. The fire burned hotter in his eyes.

"You think this is a joke?" Now Lucien was just as troubled as Sonja had been a moment ago.

Finally, Sonja was able to compose herself.

"No, not at all." She broke into a grin. "It's just that, he's always been a problem. He and his "diamond" vampires. Hardly worth paying attention to anymore." Sonja thought that that was the end of the discussion; she was now free to leave. But as she turned to fall through the window, Lucien lunged at her arm and caught her in mid-stride. Sonja stared at the Lycan that was now on her.

"Get off, you dog!" Desperation soaked out of Lucien's eyes.

"No! You don't understand! Caius wants to overthrow the Coven!" Now Sonja's eyes leached the same desperation that echoed in Lucien's. She felt like she couldn't breathe, like sunlight had found some way into her heart, and burnt away everything within those immortal walls with those destructive and deadly rays.

"What?" Sonja stumbled back onto the damp, rotting floor. Just as she was going to hit the ground a pair of strong arms caught her. For the moment it could have been a wolf from William's brood, her father, or even Lucien that held her millimeters above the floor. Caius wanted to overthrow the Coven. He wanted to overthrow a millennia and a half of tradition and rites. Her world just spun out of control.

"Sonja, are you okay?" A gentle, strong voice brought her out of the worst case scenario building in her head. There was a more important matter to be dealt with at the moment. Sonja jumped to her feet and threw the Lycan to the ground.

"How dare you touch me!" Sonja had pulled the dagger out of her boot and was advancing on Lucien.

"Please, Sonja! Stop!" Lucien cried, but the vampire Elder was intent on the kill. And Lucien was too damn tired to even try to stop her. Sonja grabbed the pathetic man by the throat and was about to impale him on the small blade.

"You really don't remember, do you?" Lucien breathed. Surprised, Sonja decided to hear the man out. For a while; boredom was not common in the Coven but it was known to drive some vampires to murder. So she decided to make this a little bit of a game.

"Remember what?" She said in playful tone. But Lucien's face was as serious as stone.

"All the fun we had as children. I was your little pet." Sonja's jocose manner was lost as she saw the obvious nostalgia occurring within Lucien. She tensed but completely forgot about the dagger in her hand and on Lucien's stomach.

"They were some of the best times of my life. Slavery seemed bearable around you."

My god, Sonja thought, Lucien is infatuated with me. She remembered the dagger and thrust it onto his throat.

"Don't even think of enticing me with your lies, fiend." Sonja had meant to fill the almost dead man with fear but when his dry lips turned up into a weary smile, she knew something was horribly wrong. The worst part was that the horrid feeling was coming from inside her.

"Are you to kill one of your allies when one of the greatest immortal wars is on the horizon?"

Shocked, Sonja thrust the dagger further into Lucien's neck.

"So you are my ally now?" Lucien gasped a dry and throaty chuckle.

"I always was…"

Sonja had had enough. Her time was more important to deal with such a creature. She started to make the gleaming silver blade cut through Lucien's skin but she never got the chance to smell his noxious blood. He was gone.

"Dammit." She would have gone looking for the mysterious Lycan but his games were beginning to tire her, and sunrise was coming.

Sunrise, she thought with a bitter tang to it. She had never seen the daylight, to do so was suicide. Sonja stood absolutely still for just a moment before disappearing into the urban wasteland below just as quickly as Lucien had.

She fell out of the window and landed on the cobblestone road with hardly a sound. Now it was her footsteps being heard rushing away from this place. She took one last look around her.

Nothing but crumbling buildings and broken dreams, She thought. And yet, she felt something stir within her. If felt like a memory but she couldn't be sure. It was so vague, so long ago. But the Lycan was in it. That fact alone should have terrified her, but the thing that really scared her was that there was no fear tied to this stirring. It was pleasant one. And that should not, could not and never would be a good thing.

Trying to shake off this horrid realization, Sonja walked over to her car. It was black as the new moon and had tinted windshields so that if she were ever late to the Coven she would be safe from the sun's deadly rays. And from the looks of the dawning sun, it was a very good thing to have those shields. She drove off leaving the gray of dawn behind her, but Lucien was burned into her mind as much as the sun would have been.

Lucien stared out over the city that had become his Lycan headquarters. Unbeknownst to either vampire Covens, this place was actually very alive. There were lookouts stationed in almost every building; who were given warning of the vampire's entrance, and told not to kill.

Just like when they were children, all those centuries before, Lucien watched as Sonja raced out of his fortress, away from him. A familiar sadness washed over him as the dawning light chased the Vampire Elder out of his domain.

"I love you, Sonja." was all he could whisper to her fleeting form.

Only the wind answered his melancholy call.