Disclaimer: I do not own Bloody Roar, its characters, storyline, or anything associated with it. Only the plot is mine.

AN- Here's the third chapter! Mainly due to the lovely reviews from 'The End of Infinity', whose encouragement I greatly appreciate. (Before I started posting my own stuff, I always thought that authors who claimed reviews helped them write were just making it up. Now I know better. ; P )

Anyways—constructive criticism is welcome, as is advice on keeping cannon characters IC! Thanks for reading!

Shenlong sprawled on the couch, drifting in and out of consciousness. Something in the back of his mind stirred rebelliously; he was relying on someone, trusting them not to knife him while he slept. Why wasn't he on his feet, mocking the silly woman for thinking that he, the most powerful zoanthrope to ever live, needed her help. Not powerful. Copy. Patchy, smudged, imperfect- shutupshutupshutup!

But her couch was cushy. And it smelled nice. Like popcorn. And-

"What the fuck?!" At her guest's startled yowl, Del bolted back into the living room, feet sliding on the carpet as she tried to turn the corner too quickly.

"Shen! What? What happened? Are you-"

There was a moment's silence.

"Oh- God- I forgot- hahahaha!" The young woman buckled over, clutching her midsection at the sight that greeted her. Shenlong was sprawled halfway off of the couch, every muscle in his body tense, as he stared in offended shock at the creature sitting on his chest.

The turtle blinked back at him, and then slowly tottered down to the floor. Shenlong held himself utterly still, vision blurring slightly as his intoxicated brain attempted to determine whether or not it was a threat. Del stumbled over, still giggling, and scooped the turtle up.

"Shen, meet Mr. Spock. Spockers, this is Shen." The turtle looked rather perturbed at being lifted into the air, and its four legs motored aimlessly as its head swung back and forth as if trying to figure out where the floor had gone. Shenlong blinked at the spectacle from his upside-down perspective, not sure what to make of the whole situation. He tugged himself into a sitting position and opened his mouth to tell the woman exactly what he thought of meeting 'Mr. Spockers', but before he could protest Del had plonked the turtle into his lap and was on her way back to the kitchen.

"You and Spock make friends, okay Shen?" She called over her shoulder. "He's a Herman's Tortoise. You two should get along fine." With that, she vanished around the corner, just as the smell of cooking meat wafted to Shenlong's nostrils. He sniffed at the air and licked his lips, and then turned his head to consider the tortoise perched on his knees. It tottered slightly and he put a hand on it's shell, steadying the animal before it fell. It was warm under his palm; alive. The tiger slowly ran his fingertips along the bumps and dips in its shell, and it stared back at him, eyes black and alien in a craggy, sharp face. Shenlong felt suddenly as if it were examining him, looking into him timeless eyes and—

—falling asleep.

The man stared as the tortoise retracted its head back into its shell and went out like a light. I feel oddly insulted... Shenlong mused. He'd been having a moment, there, and the thing had completely ignored him. It pissed him off. Hm... Isn't tortoise edible?

But he wasn't going to hurt it, because whatever it was that Del was cooking smelled delicious. And while it may have been more satisfying to eat the tortoise, he didn't think his self-nominated hostess would appreciate him making a meal out of 'Mr. Spockers'. In fact, he had a feeling that she'd protest. Violently.

Shenlong let himself slide down against the arm of the sofa, his eyes drifting closed at his mind wandered. He couldn't seem to concentrate on anything. Normally, even when he was drunk, he was hyper aware of his surroundings—but he'd always known that if he didn't take care of himself, no-one else would. Now he was warm, someone was going to feed him, and— I'm so fucking sloshed... Acting like some kinda' pansy...

The couch dipped slightly next to his and he jerked upright, hands coming up and curling into claws before Del's face swam into focus. Along with the pair of hamburgers on the plate she was holding. Shenlong leaned towards the food, sniffing hungrily, and the snatched the plate when Del offered it. His sudden movement upset the tortoise, which tumbled to the floor and then crawled off after shooting him a resentful look. Shenlong growled at the animal, and took a bite of the first burger.

The next thing he knew, he was doubled over, retching. Del rescued the plate before it overturned, holding it out of danger with one hand and rubbing his back with the other.

"Whoo, boy, you are drunk!" She murmured. "C'mon, now, ride it out. The second bite wont be so bad, and you need to get something in your stomach." Shenlong moaned, buckled over and dry heaving at her floor. Get something in my stomach? I'll stick my claws in your stomach, woman!

She leaped up, and he heard her footsteps recede and then return. A cool cloth pressed against his head, and she pushed him back against the cushions with her other hand before reaching for the small table next to the couch. He didn't give her time to complete the movement. The feeling of her hand against his chest, pushing him down—Holding me down! Attacking me!—brought his most violent instincts to the forefront.

His nausea vanished and he lashed out violently, fingernails that were suddenly too long to be human scoring across Del's arm, knocking the hand holding the cloth to his forehead away and making her draw back with a yelp. He lunged at her, knocked her onto her back, and bodily pinned her to the couch. She cried out in surprise and thrashed, trying to break free of his grasp.

"Hey! What the hell do you think-" She froze, falling silent, as his lips brushed her neck. For a human, it would've been a caress; but the animal in both of them felt the razor sharp fangs behind the skin, and knew the gesture for the threat it was. Shen took advantage of her stillness to pin her hands with his own, completely immobilizing her. She remained still, fighting the urge to struggle, knowing that if he started to think of her as prey it would be all over.

Now that he was in control, Shenlong wasn't sure what to do. Rip her throat out? No! I don't want to! So he hesitated, simply holding her down, where she couldn't hurt him, fangs hovering against her jugular and hands flexing and they pushed her against the cushions.

Del's mind raced. What's he- why did he- I was just trying to get him to lie down, but he must have thought that I was trying to hurt him! Instead of being frightened or angry, Del suddenly felt the need to put her arms around the man and rock him back and forth like a child. Just a little gesture like that and he thinks I'm attacking him. What could have happened, to make him like this? Del took a deep breath and spoke in a soft, cajoling voice.

"Shen, I was just trying to help you lie down. I'm going to try and hurt you, okay? I couldn't, even if I wanted to. You're twice my size." Del kept her voice soft and calm. "If you let me up, you can finish dinner and then take a sh-"

"Shut up." Shenlong huffed, fingers tightening over her wrists and too-sharp claws scraping the tender skin. Del went silent. Not because of the words, but because of the gold seeping into his eyes, because of the way that his pupils were contracting, twisting, from warm human orbs to a pair of vertical slashes.

Del was suddenly struck with the feeling that her new guest wasn't a housecat.