| 11) Kitty - Rude Awakenings A few hours into Saturday's work first work shift, a concerted effort was underway to find Kitty. She had last been officially seen leaving the dorm the previous evening to set up for the Social, but hadn't checked out with the party guard as she had the previous two months. Her bunkmate confirmed that she'd left with the Hound Nightcrawler once more, but that they'd left before the event was properly started. Her trainers met up with his, who'd just been alerted that he also hadn't reported to work. Outside of Kurt's door, Combs explained the original nature of the quarters, and why he'd been placed here. They entered, and Combs and Vaile turned to the right, while Howards and Brestin went to the left. Brestin checked that the bathroom was clear, and Howards could see that neither of the beds had been slept in. The far one wasn't even made. They turned back to the kitchen where the other two agents were standing. Howards raised an eyebrow, and Combs pointed over the bar into the main room. On a battered, much repaired couch, their two lost sheep lay asleep, him spooned behind her. Kitty's suit gapped open, and one of his furred hands was tucked somewhere inside it. His top was off completely, and her boots were tumbled on the floor. He had a leg tucked over hers, and his tail was curled around one of her arms. "Aw, ain't it tweet..." Brestin whispered. "Fuck me, though. Is this gonna be a problem?" "That has yet to be seen," Howards said, and sighed. "Okay, on the count of three, we bust in there screaming and scare the Hell out of 'em. 1-2-3!" The reaction of the Hounds was gratifyingly startled. Kurt sat bolt upright and crawled up the back of the couch, smashing his head against the wall before he finally stopped. Kitty lurched forward, falling face first onto the floor. She looked up owlishly, and squirmed to zip up her front while still lying prone. "Up on your knees, you worthless mutants!" Howards bellowed. "No one gave you freaks permission to skip a work shift, so you're both in big trouble!" They scrambled to kneel before the couch, sparing each other a sickened glance before looking at their trainers, terrified. Kitty tentatively began reciting the litany, and he joined her quickly. "I belong to Shield. They own my very breath. I live at their whim, I die at their whim..." Their voices blended in an alto-tenor harmony as they repeated it over and over. Combs snapped at them. "You keep doing that, Hounds, and maybe we'll believe you." The trainers withdrew into the kitchen. "So what are we going to do about them?" Combs said. "Keep them apart? It seems to me that they've been keeping each other going." Howards scratched his chin. "I know for damned sure that your guy kept me from having to kill mine last month. She went a little psycho after a test, but after they met up last time, she was okay again." "Looks to me like a case of overactive hormones. Maybe we can use that against them," Brestin said. "Lust isn't a good enough leverage," Vaile said. "Better yet, we use their affections as our hold. C'mere guys, look at them. Even now, with all the trouble they're in, they can't stop touching each other." Sure enough, a furry tail was curling around her ankle. Her foot was crossed over to stroke it. Their hands slowly stole together and clasped as they continued reciting the oath. "You got an angle Vail?" Combs said. "I have contacts in the Major's office. Both of them have displayed a deep-set resistance to their programming. If we held each of them as hostage for the other's behavior..." "That could work," Combs said. "But we'll have to get the Major's permission." Vaile smiled. "Believe me, they've been looking for a hook to get those two going, and we're about to hand it to them on a silver platter." "Now that's an excellent suggestion," Howards said with a smile. Brestin nodded his agreement. * * * Shouting woke her up. Her trainers were there, and other people. They were very angry and she didn't know why. She felt Kurt's warmth behind her, and that was wrong, they shouldn't be waking up together; he'd get in trouble. She lurched away from him, falling forward, and feeling an inordinate amount of skin touching the floor. God, my suit's open! She struggled to zip it up while still down on the floor. Howards was shouting at her to be on her knees and she hurried to obey. By reflex she started reciting the litany, and the anger seemed mollified somewhat. Kurt kneeled besides her, his voice joining hers. She'd fallen asleep in his arms, and Howards was saying something about missing work. It must be Saturday morning. Her trainers, and the others who seemed to know Kurt huddled in the kitchen, discussing something. In her experience, when trainers went into quiet conferences, it was never a good thing. There was a touch on her ankle, and she risked a glance at Kurt. His hands were at his sides, and his posture was stiffly upright, but... It was his tail, coiled around her, holding on desperately. She shifted her foot, so she could rub back against it. She shivered in shock and fear, and his hand move to her, brushing his knuckles against her. She turned her hand and held his. They couldn't exactly get into any more trouble right now, so they might as well do what they could to comfort each other. Surprisingly, the trainers didn't berate them for the contact. They simply ordered them to follow. They went to the clinic holding hands, but they were separated when they got there. Vaile took her into the exam room, and a nurse prepped her for a pelvic. She wondered what in the world they were doing that for? The doctor performed a brief internal exam, taking a scraping of her inner lining. Then she was told to dress, completely, so she put her bra on too. In the hallway, Kurt was finishing a set of one hundred push-ups. "...Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred." His eyes sought hers as he got to his feet, and she gave him a tiny smile. They were ordered to follow again, to the Psych department this time. In the waiting room, they were made to sit on opposite sides of the room. A guard stood watch to make sure they stayed in their places. A silent, torturous hour later, Kurt was called to a counseling room, leaving Kitty alone under the unsympathetic gaze of the guard. She sat quietly, numb to whatever would happen to her. It was Kurt she was worried about. Images of his punishment haunted her mind. It wasn't fair that her stupidity would get him in trouble, or worse... Sudden heated voices floated down the hall, and one of them was Kurt, his voice filled with anger and despair. She fidgeted in her seat, worry for him making her frantic. Being stunned by the guard, however, was unappealing. She bit her lip and made herself stay put. Putting her face in her hands, she fought tears. She would not cry in front of them, any of them. Kurt came out finally, every line of him expressing dejection. He sat down and wouldn't meet her eyes. She was brought to a room, and she gulped. The four trainers were here, looking at her like she was a tasty treat. Presiding over them was Major Hedrick, and behind him was an officer wearing silver stars. Unconscious authority rolled off him in waves. The major directed her to stand before them, and he looked her up and down. "So what was it that you thought you were doing?" he said abruptly. "We fell asleep, sir. It was an accident." Her voice was thin and cracking. "This isn't back home, Hound, where the worst that will happen is grounding or extra chores. There are serious consequences to misbehavior here, like harsh physical punishment. Is that what you want?" "No, sir, I would not like that." "Yet you invite it, by flouting the rules. Not only that, but you got your... companion in trouble, too. Mr. Brestin is looking forward to a collared combat session with your paramour that he won't soon forget." The younger of Kurt's trainers grinned wolfishly. "Sir... it was my fault. Blame me." Her voice trembled, but she raised her chin. The officer in the shadows snorted. The major glanced back at him, and smiled coldly. "Really now? Because that's just what he said." Kitty's eyes widened, and her stomach performed flip-flops. He'd said it was his fault? Oh, Kurt. "The simplest first step would be to isolate you two from each other. Your... infatuation with each other has made you blind to the realities around you. You will both endure rigorous extra training, of course." "Yes, sir. Of course, sir." She felt like she was dying inside. To never again see him, or touch him... The very thought was agony unlike anything she'd ever known. It scared her how much she let herself feel for him, and how far inside her defenses he'd gotten. And yet, she could regret nothing. If she never saw him again, she would still be warmed by the memory of him. "You tell me your version of what happened last night, for the record." God, what happened was so personal to her. Face flaming, she tried to give a factual accounting of their actions. What she'd been feeling wasn't the point, no was what exactly they'd said to each other. She left out only the session before the mirror, and destroying the record. "Let me try to understand this. You both risked your lives to stay together, and all you did was fondle each other? The doctor confirmed you didn't have sex." "We... I didn't mean to fall asleep. I was waiting for the warning, and..." Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged helplessly. Moisture stung her eyes, but she fought it. Tears were weakness, and they would only mock her for them. "I don't get what she sees in the furry freak anyway," Brestin muttered. "Granted, she's no catch either, but jeeze, she must be some kind of slut to let a creature like him feel her up. And it's not like he was the only guy she had access to..." Her face flushed hot again, but from anger this time. She glared down at the floor, unwilling to worsen her situation by arguing with a trainer. Rage simmered while the others idly disparaged her choices. "Maybe it's a latent yearning for bestiality," Howards drawled finally. "She couldn't get to an animal so she picked him?" "He's not an animal," she muttered through her teeth at the floor. "What was that, Hound? Did you address someone?" The major said quietly. She lifted her face to him, eyes fairly snapping sparks, her temper only barely held in check. "I said, he is not an animal." "We are all animals, Hound," he pointed out. "Some of us are just closer to our hairy forefathers than others. However, it's nice to see a little passion in you. You've been going through the motions here, doing what you're told... barely, but your heart has not been in this." He spread his hands wide. "Psychology is important when dealing with Hounds. A worker can be compelled to work, but a Hound has to take ownership of their job to be truly effective. It's my job to find the key that makes you do that." She felt a prickle of fear creep over her scalp. The satisfaction in the major's tone couldn't be a good thing, for either of them. "I'm going to spell something out for you," he said, steepling his hands. "You have no rights here. We can do what we please to any of you. Torture, mutilation, and death are the least of what we have, can and will do to Hounds in the course of our mission. Therefore, from this moment on, the responsibility for his safety and well-being is laid squarely at your feet. Your actions will determine his treatment." "But... that's not..." She closed her mouth with a snap. Stupid, stupid! "You were about to say, 'That's not fair'?" His lips curled up. "The first idea before me is to return him to his dorm where he will be more closely monitored. The second notion is based on my memories of how distressed he seemed on his arrival, when he thought he was going to be castrated..." The blood drained from her face. She looked into his eyes, knowing that he knew that he had her. Even if she were never again the recipient of his desire, she would do whatever it took to make sure that didn't happen. She lowered her head, squeezing her eyes shut. Here was the crux of it, then. Would she be their murderer, for love; for him? A quiver in her shoulders escalated into full body shudders, and she wrapped her arms around herself to keep from flying apart. In her heart, she already knew... She would. Still quaking, she dropped to her knees. "I belong to Shield. They own my very breath. I live at their whim; I die at their whim. I will serve them in whatever I am commanded. I belong to Shield..." "Enough," he said. "But do you really understand that now?" She lifted her eyes to them, and tears leaked down her cheeks. She accepted her weakness, and allowed the misery in her heart to show naked on her face. If anything, the smile on the major's face got colder. "Please, don't hurt him," she whispered brokenly. "That, Hound, is up to you. I've seen a thousand mutants come to this carrier, and I'll tell you a little secret. They all harbor a tiny little escapist fantasy. One of them is that all this is a bad dream, and that one day they'll wake up safe at home. Or, they think somehow they'll be rescued, and they'll get to live in some fairy tale land where humans and mutants can live in peace." He laughed darkly. "You were in the former category, I think, and you just woke up. You've still been back in Chicago in your heart of hearts, where homework and chores were your biggest problems. You are not dreaming; this is your real life. Now, I think, you believe this is real. Now, you know you're a Hound." She flinched, part of her still wanting it not to be true, but she nodded. "You will throw yourself whole heartedly into your training. You will suggest to your trainers anything that you think of that will make you a more effective operative. And you will remember every day, that he is safe and unharmed only because of you." "Yes, sir." Her last shred of hope had been systematically demolished. He pressed a buzzer, and a guard entered. "Rise, Hound." She did and followed the man out the door. Kurt wasn't in the waiting room any more. She was taken to a brig cell, and locked in. It was a tiny chamber, five feet long by four feet wide. A fold up bunk used three foot of the width. The far end of the remaining space held a steel toilet. Perched above that was a small sink, that she'd have to straddle to bowl in order to reach. The hallway end of the room was made of floor to ceiling bars, eliminating any shred of privacy. She sat, then she pushed up the bunk and paced, and then sat again. When she couldn't hold off anymore, she used the facility, burning with humiliation. Anyone walking by would be able to see her. What had she done? What had she promised? But she couldn't let him be hurt because of her. He was the only warm and decent thing in her life now. She cared for him. She loved him. * * * "That was simply masterful, major. The way you played the two of them was a joy to behold," Combs said. "Indeed," the general said. "Well, played. Amazing how they succumbed to the same basic script." "Thank you, sir. I must commend trainer Vaile, she might have a future in this department. But while this is a good start, it is only a start." "What do you mean?" the general said. "We've got to hold them in a delicate balance. In the first place we have to make them believe that their respective sacrifices are materially benefiting the other. But, if we keep that tension up too long, without allowing them to continue developing their bond, that sacrifice might turn into resentment, and then we've lost them. It's important that we allow them to continue their relationship, however distasteful it might seem to us. It makes them emotionally vulnerable." Howards leaned back. "Do we continue to allow them to meet at the Socials? We can either require them to stay in the Hall, or send a guard to round her up at curfew." "I'd say so, but..." the major shook his head, frowning. "But you don't think they're fully bonded yet, and the pressure you just applied might crack them apart," Vaile said. The major smiled. "I knew you had a talent for this." The general put his finger down on the table, commanding their attention. "Command wants them as mission partners. You will see to it that happens." The major sighed. "It's really a pity they didn't have sex. They're both virgin, and highly interested in each other. That sort of thing would help them bond together." "We could wait until next time, and see if they do it..." Combs said. "That could be too late," Vaile said immediately. "If they get bitter and disillusioned within the next month, it will be very hard to reacquire them. Or worse, they could decide that the leverage we're holding on them makes them too vulnerable, so they'll close themselves off." "Is she correct?" the general asked. "Yes, sir," the major said. "If we lose them now, it might be over for these two. They might not even be useful as Hounds, let alone partners." "Then change the rules. I've already authorized an exception once for him. This incident is, in a way, the result of that decision. Here's what I have in mind..." In succinct terms he outlined his idea. The others shook their head at the audacity of it. "It could backfire on us, sir, if the experience sours them on each other..." Howards said. "Then that failure will be on me," the general said, shrugging. "But I didn't see a couple of casually horny teenagers today, I saw star-crossed lovers. After this evening we will know, one way or the other. Howards, Hedrick... see to the preparations. I want everything to be perfect for them." He stood up with a smile. "The fish have nibbled. It's time to set the hooks." Chapter Twelve Back to Main Page Back to Fanfics Back to Series Index |