The Glitter Jungle:
Fiction:
Little Red Riding-Hood
Monster in the alley. BtVS/Smallville, het
Creatures with power can always sense other creatures with power. That's how he noticed the little boy in the field that day; this is how he notices her now, little red headed pretty girl with a lazy smile and a lot of leather. He wonders what her power is. What it is that she has that gives her this confidence, the ability to survey everyone here and lick her lips like she can own the whole lot of them. What makes her focus on *him*.
It doesn't feel like the power little spoiled girls with rich parents have. It doesn't look like it's a physical power. It *could* be just about sex but then *he* wouldn't be so attracted to it; sexy girls in leather can be found anywhere, even if they're really good at what they do, they're still available to him. This, this is new. Exciting. And hints to danger.
He glances in her direction and then walks out to the alley. As expected, she's following. Unexpectedly, she lets him wait about ten minutes before arriving. And her smirk almost matches his.
A few pleasantries, wit and seduction and her breasts nearly popping out of her blouse - leather corset with dark red edges and beautiful, milky-white supple skin swells above it, so young and soft - and he is pressing her against the brick wall and kissing her passionately, hands sliding over and under the leather and her hands in his wild hair guiding his head, to her neck, to her breasts, to her mouth.
And then he looks at her, leans back and looks at her lovely face. She lowers her head, as if coy, not that he buys it for a minute, and her red hair covers her face. When she looks back up again...
The smug smirk on his face disappears, changes in a blink of an eye into a terrified, uncomprehending shock. What is *wrong* with her face. What is wrong with her eyes. What... big teeth you have, grandma... She smiles and sinks her fangs into his neck, brushing his hair out of the way, holding him and although he's taller than her, bigger, stronger, he can't fight her. Can't get away, but she stops feeding for a moment to whisper sweetly in his ear through blood covered lips... "Don't worry, pet, you're one to keep."
He's not so terrified anymore. He understands what's going on as old tales seep into his consciousness. Eternal life versus the amoral existence of a blood sucking monster. Quick calculations despite the dizziness, the fogging sight, and when she drops to the floor with him in her arms there is a smile playing on his pale lips.
And when he wakes up, golden eyes sparkling in the dark of the alley, he asks for her name.
"Willow," she says, "but you can call me Mistress. And you are?"
He grins. "Lionel Luthor."