The Turning Chapter 5: Purity Pent Up, an underworld fanfic

Underworld - The Turning

Written by
Wendy Dale Smith
st7ci@hotmail.com

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To Readers:
Ahem…Since the story is already finished, I promised to update with a new chapter every Saturday, but I'm having trouble holding to that promise. I can't wait! Heh. So maybe I'll post two chapters a week instead.

This is the lightest chapter in the story. There are, however, some very important plot points. Some situations and character motivations in the movie forced me to deduce some surprising things about Selene…things I really wanted to expand on in this story.

There is a tiny bit of French spoken in this chapter. This is Paris, after all. Some of the words will be familiar, just as they would be to Michael at hearing them, so don't necessarily skip over it. For those who absolutely must know exactly what the characters are saying, there is a translated version of the dialogue at the end of this chapter.

To Reviewers: Since I'm usually terribly long winded, I've moved the review replies to the end of the chapter.

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Chapter 5

They were shown into a large salon and promptly left alone, their escort closing the door behind him quietly. The dimly lit room was lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves. An immense desk dominated the room as it sat between two huge bay windows. Michael noticed a variety of weaponry mounted on the wall behind the office table. He assumed they weren't just for show. Finally, his eyes moved to the woman standing within one of the large bay windows. She stood with her back to them, taking in the impressive view of the city beyond.

With deliberation, she turned from the window to face her visitors. Surprised, Michael saw that she was an incredibly beautiful woman. Fair-haired, with wavy locks tied away from her face and falling down her back, she was dressed modishly in a plain black blouse and dark gray slacks. Slowly she approached them from around the desk. This was Vivienne, "an exiled vampire" Selene explained to him sketchily as they were escorted through the vast apartments. With warning in her voice, Selene had quickly told him Vivienne was an ancient vampire connected to Viktor's coven, but had been banished some years ago by Kraven. When he'd asked why she was here, in lycan territory, Selene replied with an ominous, "I don't know." Seeing her warning glance at their escort, he asked no further questions.

Vivienne walked up to them unhurriedly, measuring her guests as she approached. As she stopped in front of the desk and leaned against it, Michael finally got a good look into her eyes. To his surprise, they were completely unlike Selene's. Vivienne's eyes were full of quiet humor and curiosity as they darted back and forth, clearly gauging the two unexpected visitors. If he had expected anything, this would not have been it. In his limited experience, he assumed all vampires were brooding, conceited, and melancholy. But Vivienne seemed clearly at ease and in command, almost regal, despite her youthful appearance. Michael admitted to himself he was intrigued. He saw Selene raise her chin imperceptibly to the woman, letting her know she was undaunted, and not in the least afraid. It made him realize his mouth lay open, and he closed it almost sheepishly. He was definitely a little intimidated.

Flashing dark brown eyes at the two grimy newcomers, the woman raised a brow and smiled in unexpected playfulness, her sharp fangs clearly showing. She then turned and looked pointedly at Michael with a decidedly devilish look on her face.

"Selene, where did you find this beautiful boy?" The woman spoke in a naturally soft and seductive French accent as she stared at Michael. She walked casually up to him with a small smile still on her lips, inspecting him frankly. He eyed her warily. "Un Américain, oui?"

Selene sighed in disgruntlement, "Oui." Noting the easy casualness of their conversation, Michael grasped they knew each other very well.

"Comment est-il? Bon?" Vivienne was looking him up and down. Michael swallowed with difficulty as he glanced from one to the other. The two women were clearly talking about him, but he suddenly had no idea what they were saying. It was very disconcerting.

Selene rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't know," she said impatiently under her breath and with obvious reluctance.

Dropping her lascivious grin, Vivienne bent her head in Selene's direction, giving the younger woman a horrified glare of abject incredulity. "Quoi?!"

"Il y a des choses plus importantes à discuter," Selene said with impatient disdain. Her scowl was getting deeper by the moment. As Vivienne's face burgeoned with realization, Selene frowned back at the woman unapologetically.

"Vous ne savez pas? Mon Dieu, pourquoi persistez-vous avec cette," she waved a hand around, as though grasping for a properly repugnant word, "Virginité?" Michael actually heard the woman growl in frustration as she motioned at him. "Vous gaspillez ce mâle magnifique?" She closed her eyes briefly in disgust and sighed, as though praying for patience. She then looked at Selene and shook her head. "Quel est ton problème?"

The former Death Dealer crossed her arms and looked away from the woman. She seemed petulant to Michael, like a huffy hurt child. And Vivienne was scolding her like an angry mother. He'd never seen Selene act quite this way before. He was totally enthralled by the exchange.

Noting the other woman's stubbornness, Vivienne sighed. "Selene," she said as her face filled with a concerned pity that Michael could clearly see while Selene refused to even look in her direction. "Nous tous avons eux nos tourments. It is time to let go this pain," she ordered tersely. She continued to stare at Selene a moment more, waiting for some response. Selene simply refused to look at her. Michael desperately wanted to know what had given Selene that glower. Vivienne gently spoke, "M'entendez-vous?" Selene merely shrugged. Vivienne shook her head and sighed.

"I apologize for my young friend, Monsieur Corvin," the woman said suddenly to Michael in her heavily accented English. She stared worriedly at Selene for a moment more. When Vivienne finally turned her attention back to Michael, she looked him up and down, and smiled. She slowly glided toward him, attitude completely changed, eyes now languid and seductive. She stopped less than a foot facing him, lightly touching his arm, his chest, his neck, inspecting him. "You see, being born under Victoria, that frigid little English monarch, Selene keeps her purity like some…ridiculous badge of honor."

Hanging on her resonating accent, Michael stared at the incredibly beautiful woman, glancing at her lips as they moved in speech, utterly fascinated. Her smell enveloped Michael, reminding him harshly that he hadn't had anything to do with sex for far too long.

"I was born in a less…reserved age," she said as she gently but firmly cupped his groin. Michael sucked in his breath and froze, an erection springing to life in a shocking instant. The woman smiled, and glanced knowingly at Selene, who watched the scene, arms crossed, seemingly cool and unmoved. The woman's smile broadened. "If Selene would not mind, I would gladly alleviate her pet for a night. He seems so…pent up." She said the last words not an inch from his lips, her breath there as arousing as her gently stroking hand below.

"It's this behavior that got you kicked out of the coven in the first place," Selene interrupted with bored smugness.

The woman suddenly stopped her ministrations, to Michael's nervous relief. His embarrassment excruciating, he didn't dare look in Selene's direction.

With a laugh in her voice, Vivienne replied, "And what makes you think I was kicked out?" There was a flash of uncertainty from Selene. Dawning with realization, Vivienne continued, "Oh, I see," and her face suddenly darkened considerably. "Kraven." The woman glanced at Michael, noting his instant scowl at the mention of this individual. "He would do anything to make himself look good. I left of my own accord. As you can see, I no longer needed that ailing coven."

"You were having sex with a prominent politician," Selene accused. "A human."

"He wasn't prominent for long."

"No. Kraven had him killed."

"Yes, I know, by you if I recall correctly." The woman seemed to take delight in infuriating Selene, but it didn't seem a malevolent provocation to Michael. There was a purpose behind this odd exchange he could not quite fathom. It intrigued him so much his mind barely acknowledged the fact that Selene had assassinated a "prominent politician" in her past.

Getting completely aggravated with the woman's seeming guilelessness, Selene practically shouted, "You nearly exposed the entire coven with your carelessness! If the Nazis hadn't interfered, the Partisans would have been all over…"

"Nazis!?" Michael interrupted with a shout, glaring incredulously from one woman to the next. They looked at him, both scowling at being interrupted from the heretofore silent male. "When did this happen?" he said a little more calmly.

Selene thought for a moment. "About sixty years ago."

"Sixty-four to be exact," Vivienne replied, as though it were no large thing.

"You haven't talked to each other in sixty years?" Michael was dumbfounded.

Vivienne stared at Michael for a moment, then looked at Selene and grinned. "Oh please, let me play with your pet."

"I'm not her pet," Michael said, quite suddenly angry. He was exhausted, filthy, and oddly aroused all at the same time. Even his patience had its limits. He looked down at Vivienne with unintended menace.

Not in the least intimidated by the much stronger man, she raised one brow in caution. "Calm yourself, Monsieur Corvin. I do not mean offense. By pet, I mean lover. And in that regard," she said, looking deliberately at Selene. "You most certainly are not her pet." Selene merely ground her fangs together.

"But enough of my play," she said, suddenly deciding the interview was over. Vivienne quickly stood away from them. She wrinkled her nose as she made her way around the massive desk. "You both smell of the sewers. Get clean and sleep. We will discuss why you are here," she raised her voice at Selene, giving her a scolding look before the other woman could interrupt with a word of protest, "…once you have rested to my satisfaction."

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They were shown to a sumptuous fifth floor suite. Their ever-present escort smiled and bowed slightly. With the most insincere smile she could muster, Selene kicked the door closed in the vampire's face.

She skewed her mouth into a snarl. "That bitch hasn't changed a bit."

Michael was inspecting the room with feigned interest. Selene barely glanced his way as she began to pace restlessly. "Rested to my satisfaction. Do you know what she meant by that?"

Michael looked at her. He could see her working her teeth together in anger. He had an idea what Vivienne meant all right. By Selene's tone she knew it too. But he certainly wasn't going to actually reply to that question. He wasn't going to risk her murderous mood being turned in his direction. He rather enjoyed the idea of someone else pissing her off for a change. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, he kept his mouth firmly shut. He continued to investigate the room. Suddenly smelling something, he skewed his nose up, sniffing the air noisily. "Do you smell that?" he said.

Stopping her pacing, Selene frowned at him. Looking at nothing, she concentrated on the air, what it told her. The room had just been cleaned. She could pick out the various detergents used on the linens and carpet, even the wood polish. Underneath, the room smelled musty, old. Most of all, she smelled Michael and herself. They did smell like the sewer, she grudgingly admitted. She shook her head. "What?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I know that smell, but it's not from home." He glanced around the room, trying to figure out what the odor was.

Selene looked at him thoughtfully. He hadn't realized he called her house his home. For some reason, it brought something else to mind. "Do you understand French?"

Michael turned and looked at her. His face was expressionless, as though he was debating something in his mind. "Just a few words," he finally said. The faintest of smiles began to build in his eyes. That brought Selene up short. She suddenly had an overwhelming need to do something. Spying her bag, she picked it up and went to the dresser table. Quickly unzipping it, she began to inventory her portable arsenal.

As Michael continued to stare at her, a slow smile of disbelief came over him. "You're…a virgin?" he said in quiet awe.

Selene sighed heavily. He sounded like he just discovered some hidden treasure. She glanced at him as she continued to go through her things. She wasn't going to say a word. He had obviously figured it out for himself. The dense man.

After a few moments, she had enough of his staring. "Wipe that look off your face, or I will for you," she said mildly, not once looking up from her sorting. Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, Selene could actually see him close his mouth abruptly. Finally, when she did look fully his way, she caught him still smiling, though quietly to himself. It was as though he just learned something beyond his comprehension. "Oh, would you please stop," she said, disgusted.

He just gave her a look and continued to smile, as though savoring this new knowledge. Finally, he couldn't help himself. He grinned outright. "I know something you don't."

Selene looked at him for several beats before she decided not to explore that unbelievably asinine statement. Grabbing her bag, she walked past him to the bathroom. "Congratulations. I'm taking a shower."

"Wait. What about Vivienne?"

Selene turned around to face him, even more irritated that he could so easily dismiss the subject of her virginity and bring up another woman not a moment later. "What about her?"

He sighed heavily, and gave her a pointed look, the question there obvious.

Selene sighed in frustration. "Look, there's not much to tell. She's an incredibly old vampire…"

"How old?" he interrupted in curiosity.

"I don't know. A thousand years, perhaps more."

"She's not an elder?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course not. She's not pure born, wasn't even a member of the council."

"You said she was with your group, Viktor's."

"She was the ranking female in Viktor's coven, before she was exiled of course." Selene looked away and frowned, thinking back. She had always wondered about that.

"What?" Michael said, seeing her confused frown.

"Vivienne hated Viktor," she said quietly. "It was common knowledge. Yet he tolerated her, no matter how outlandish her behavior was. I could never understand how she got away with it. She never even bowed before him," she said incredulously, easily recalling how appalled she had been at the woman's blatant effrontery. "When she finally was banished, by Kraven of all people, it came as shock. She had committed far worse deeds than sleeping with a politician and never gotten so much as a hand slap."

"How did she end up here then?" Michael asked.

"I don't know," she said softly in annoyance. Selene sensed she was missing something, but her mind could not grasp it.

After a moment, she sighed, and gave up the puzzle for the time being. All she could think about was getting the stench off her body. She walked to the bathroom door and opened it. She then looked back at Michael, who was lost in thought, as usual. "I won't be long. Under no circumstances will you answer that door. I don't care who it is. I don't care if the whole place is burning down." Without waiting for a response, she closed the bathroom door behind her.

Immediately, she leaned against it for support. Selene exhaled slowly, recognizing her nerves were getting the better of her. Dropping her bag on the basin counter, she moved to the shower door, opened it, and turned the handle. As she felt for the warmth of the water, her thoughts turned irrevocably back to Michael.

Selene had hoped he would put two and two together months ago. Having him find out now under these circumstances was, to say the least, "Mortifying," she whispered grimly. She had never cared about her virginity one way or the other. But it was now quite obvious that Michael did. Had she not been a cold-blooded vampire, she would have blushed crimson at his response. His reaction caused humiliation to explode right through her. He seemed so bloody pleased with himself.

She shook her head in self-defense. It wasn't as if she'd had any opportunities over the last century. No male would come near her. First it was because they feared Viktor, and then it was because they feared Kraven. If he couldn't have her, nobody could. Kraven had taunted her with that from the start, all in the hope of breaking her will. Selene snorted in derision. Resisting that detestable vampire had been effortless. Over time, as Selene became the most fervent Death Dealer of all, she began to notice that the males of the coven simply feared her more than anything else. That suited Selene well enough. She had never suffered for lack of that particular kind of attention. She frowned. Until now.

Lost in thought she hadn't realized the water had become hot until it scalded her. She yanked her hand away with a curse. Moving back to her bag on the counter, she finally noticed the privacy door at the other end of the bathroom. She would never have noticed the secret door if it hadn't stood slightly ajar. Grabbing her P99 from the bag, she walked carefully up to it. Then, with a mental shrug, she kicked the door in.

It was a dressing room. It was empty. Selene sighed and rolled her eyes at her own paranoia. Spying several armoires and chests of drawers, she entered with curiosity. Opening one of the cabinets, she drew her brows together in surprise. She ran the barrel of her gun along the clothing, shuffling through the vast array of women's apparel. Elegant gowns of every conceivable era and style hung there. With a dismissive sigh, she closed the door, only then noticing the chest of drawers next to it. Curious, she pulled open the top drawer.

Laying the gun down, she pulled out the article of clothing lying on top. It was a satin nightgown of the deepest blue violet, a royal purple. She held it carefully away from her as she inspected it, very much liking what she saw and not wanting to get it filthy. She gently rubbed the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. It was exquisite, as was the satin dressing robe that went with it. It looked like it was made for her. This is Vivienne's doing, she thought. It was just like her to do something frivolous like this. Selene put the gown down and looked up in confusion. How could she have…?

Turning her attention to the other another wardrobe cabinet, she yanked open the door, surprised even further by it's contents. It was full of men's clothing. Pants, slacks, suits for every possible occasion, all neatly pressed and ready to wear. The chest of drawers next to the cabinet held more men's wear, but of a casual quality. She shook her head. It must have been here before. With near trepidation, she went to the last armoire and slowly opened it.

She frowned. The cabinet contained three brand new Death Dealer uniforms, obviously made for her. She pulled out one pristine black overcoat almost reverently. "How could she have known?" she said aloud to herself. A Death Dealer uniform is not something one just keeps around in case guests arrive. Vivienne knew they were coming. Or at least hoped we would, she thought. She looked over at the leather uniform made for a male and raised a brow. They went too far with that assumption. She doubted she would ever see Michael in a Death Dealer uniform. It just wasn't his nature.

Sighing, she quickly placed the heavy coat back into the wardrobe and closed it firmly. This went beyond mere hospitality. Whatever speculation Selene could draw about this place so far, she now knew one fact for certain. Vivienne anticipated and planned for them to be there, and not just for a short stay. She refused to contemplate further on what that knowledge entailed, not until she had more information.

Absently, lost in thought, Selene listened to the shower running. She stretched and bent her shoulders under her overcoat, trying to adjust the corset into a less abrasive position. It wasn't comfortable to begin with, but after two days the rigid material was becoming a tortuous distraction. Selene's gaze wandered irresistibly back to the satin dressing gown. She eyed it with speculation and no small amount of longing. Finally, she sighed heavily. Something told her she was going to regret this. With sudden determination, she went to the chest of drawers and grabbed her gun and the gown.

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Michael was frustrated. He yanked at the buckle. He could rip it off, he supposed. He dropped his arms to his sides and looked at the blackout curtains he had just closed to block the light. The sun was well above the horizon now. He itched in areas dirt and grime had no business being. He could actually discern with his nose every place on his body he intended to scrub raw, once he finally gained access to the shower that is. Michael glanced at the bathroom door for the hundredth time. What the hell was taking so long? Pursing his lips together, he grabbed the buckle again, ready to rip it off. He yanked, then yanked harder. He heard the door open and he abruptly faced away from it, not wanting her to see he was having trouble with his shoulder holster.

She was silent for a brief moment. "What are you doing?" she said quietly, almost humorously.

He sighed in resignation. He pulled the gun strap buckled at his shoulder as he turned to her. "I can't get it…" His brain froze in mid-thought as he did a double-take in her direction.

Selene stood hesitantly in the doorway wearing a dark silken dressing gown. It shimmered with deep blues and purples in the soft lamplight, hugging to curves and lines in a way her other clothing could never quite convey. She self-consciously stood straighter, prouder, as he gazed at her. He realized he was staring, but he couldn't help it. His chest constricted painfully. He gripped the shoulder strap so hard his knuckles turned stark white. She was indescribable.

"Beautiful," he whispered.

Selene blinked rapidly in reaction to that statement. She looked away briefly from his piercing gaze and then slowly walked toward him. Though she was a master at schooling her emotions, he could tell what he just said pleased her. Her eyes focused on the shoulder holster. "Here, let me help," she said in a soft husky voice that seemed incredibly sexy to Michael. He dropped his hand from the strap as she brought hers up to investigate.

God, she smells beautiful too. Her smell buffeted him like a tidal wave, bringing his growing arousal to a painfully constricting and embarrassing position. He looked down at her from a much greater height that usual. She was barefoot, he realized. Christ. Even that was arousing him. Her fingers lightly touched him as she attempted to depress the fastener. A gunshot would have registered less acutely on his skin. Her brows furrowed slightly. Gently holding his shoulder, she turned him to look at the back. Her gaze darted to his furtively. He realized she knew perfectly well what she was doing to him. He turned his head away and closed his eyes. It was cruel, but Michael knew it was not in her nature to tease him deliberately.

"Michael, you've made the strap far too tight," she chastised him gently. "It's supposed to fit loosely," she said as she adjusted the belt around his upper back. "So it won't hinder your movement."

Even now she lectured him. He shook his head, slightly irritated and not at all surprised. Suddenly, the holster eased its constrictive pinch around his shoulders. Having worn the damn thing for almost two days straight, Michael instantly sighed in relief. She turned him around again to undo the buckle. It snapped apart without effort. He quickly pulled it off as his gaze fell on her again. She watched as he blindly dropped the shoulder holster onto the table next to his small machine gun.

"That will need to be cleaned and oiled you know," she said, looking down at the table. She was referring to the weapon.

He couldn't resist. "I assume you know how to do that." As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he regretted them. Her eyes immediately shot up and then over to him. She narrowed them slightly, chastising him as she turned to move away. Michael realized she knew exactly what he meant by that statement. Ashamed of himself for the juvenile remark, he moved to block her from walking away. "Selene," he said, suddenly contrite. She stopped abruptly, turning her head to look up at him. She was hurt. He could tell. He was about to apologize, when her eyes suddenly focused on his lips, and stayed there.

All thought left him. She was standing so close. He bent his head down to hers. He glanced down and saw that her lips had slightly parted, were rising to meet his. He felt her sweet breath. She took that moment to look straight into his eyes.

"Michael," she said softly, almost regretfully. He froze his downward advance. "You reek," she whispered.

She lowered her head away from his as her eyes filled with faint revulsion and amusement. Selene slowly took a step backward, then another. When she was at a safe distance, she glanced down at his obvious arousal. Michael felt humiliation wash over him. She looked back up at his face, not totally unsympathetic. "Cold showers work wonders."

He straightened and looked toward the bathroom. He had forgotten all about needing a shower, forgot that he stank like a septic tank. He wanted to immediately accuse her of smelling the exact same way not an hour before. But then he figured, he'd said enough childish remarks for one day. He turned his eyes back to Selene with a grimace. She stood there, now impervious as ever. He looked down at her gown, at her perfect body underneath. With a sigh of self-disgust, he slunk to the bathroom.

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TRANSLATION:

Selene sighed in disgruntlement, "Yes." Noting the easy casualness of their conversation, Michael grasped they knew each other very well.

"How is he? Good?" Vivienne was looking him up and down. Michael swallowed with difficulty as he glanced from one to the other. The two women were clearly talking about him, but he suddenly had no idea what they were saying. It was very disconcerting.

Selene rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't know," she said impatiently under her breath and with obvious reluctance.

Dropping her lascivious grin, Vivienne bent her head in Selene's direction, giving the younger woman a horrified glare of abject incredulity. "What?!"

"There are more important things to discuss," Selene said with impatient disdain. Her scowl was getting deeper by the moment. As Vivienne's face burgeoned with realization, Selene frowned back at the woman unapologetically.

"You don't know? My God, why do you persist with this," she waved a hand around, as though grasping for a properly repugnant word, "Virginity?" Michael actually heard the woman growl in frustration as she motioned at him. "You waste this splendid male?" She closed her eyes briefly in disgust and sighed, as though praying for patience. She then looked at Selene and shook her head. "What is your problem, girl?"

Noting the other woman's stubbornness, Vivienne sighed. "Selene," she said as her face filled with a concerned pity that Michael could clearly see while Selene refused to even look in her direction. "We've all had our torments. It is time to let go this pain," she ordered tersely. She continued to stare at Selene a moment more, waiting for some response. Selene simply refused to look at her. Michael desperately wanted to know what had given Selene that glower. Vivienne gently spoke, "Do you hear me?" Selene merely shrugged. Vivienne shook her head and sighed.

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To Reviewers:

Adalon Ithilriel, Seraphina Kye – Two of my pet peeves is not keeping in character and using bad grammar. Both throw me right out of a story. And if I DO take some risks or evolve the character in any way, then I had better do it in such a way that IS believable. Regarding humour…I felt that humour was the one thing lacking in Underworld, but I understood why it wasn't there. In this story, I use it allegorically, as a kind of metaphor. If done correctly, humour imparts the possibility of hope amongst a morass of tragedy.

Dirbatua, Namarei, XxVampire QueenxX, LuthienGranger2004 – Thanks for the encouragement! Hope you like the rest of the story just as much. :-)

Josh Maxwell – Michael has great inner strength and resolve. But at this point in his adjustment, he uses it mostly to constrain his new powerful abilities and instincts. He is submissive and gentle with Selene because he chooses to be submissive and gentle, not because he's acting on instinct as Selene believes. He's just not a warrior. It's not his way, but that doesn't make him weak. Selene is attracted to that combination of strength and compassion. Being good-natured, however, doesn't prevent him from exerting his will from time to time. He'll be assertive with Selene, but only when he feels it's necessary for her welfare and his sanity.

The Lady Mage – It was so crucial that I keep Selene and Michael in character as much as possible, or else you would not feel any empathy for them later in the story, will not feel what I am going to put Selene and Michael through very believable or viable otherwise…

Lady K2 – I'm so glad you're getting those subtle hints. There's a whole lot of reading between the lines in this story – especially where action belies dialogue and thought.

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