Author's Note: This is, as the summary states, an alternate timeline of Ambition. Read up to chapter 15 there, and then move here, otherwise you are going to be very confused. Unless you don't mind going in blind, in which case, go right ahead. Fair warning, though, this is not as hopeful as Ambition.
Returning to the set was both unnerving and settling at the same time. Kale was no longer required to fight Frieza, but she still found herself itching for the opportunity to do so again. The fear was still there, as it had been during their last fight. His laughter still sent her into the reaches of terror, and yet...
...and yet he was still the greatest opponent she had ever had the chance to face. It was perplexing to have her saiyan instinct fighting fear and asking for more. After years of carefully grooming it, telling it to keep its place, and generally squashing it in favor of using her words, it was coming out in force.
What was worse was that the smug bastard seemed to know it.
Eight hours she spent with him that day, eight torturous, boring hours of businesslike lines, of playing the part of her character: the young saiyan attempting to get close enough to Frieza to kill him. It was mind-numbing enough that she insisted, on returning to her dressing room, that she could remove her makeup and the chest and hip bandings herself. The wardrobe lady protested briefly, but scuttled out of the room anyway, glad to have gotten off early.
SIghing, Kale went to the sink and filled it, washing the makeup off her face and taking a deep breath.
Broken bones...blood loss...why was it calling to her like this? Why was the suppression of that side of her no longer working?
Because of the thrill of the fight. You can't push it away forever.
Just watch me. I haven't gotten this far by simply giving in to base instinct.
Kale headed over to the wardrobe at that, and yawned, pulling off the outfit they'd had her in all day. Underneath was the banding, and underneath that, the basic two-piece form-fitting underarmour suit. With another sigh she starting on the hip bandings. It wasn't that she was unused to the process, it was that she had forgotten how tedious it was.
She heard the door open, and huffed as she kept unwinding the bandings. "I told you, I can handle it myself. There's no need to hover over me."
There was a chuckle, and she froze in place.
"I hope that you aren't ordering me around."
She whipped around to see-Frieza, still in his final form. After a nervous deep breath, she asked, "Was there something I messed up on set?"
"You could say that," he said, "You seemed to be...oh, what's the word...on edge the entire time. I'm wondering if you had anything to say to me."
"I was looking forward to another fight," she replied, shrugging her shoulders. "As much as I try not to admit it, fighting you, despite losing, is still thrilling." And frightening, but that seemed only to feed back into her desire to go right back into combat with him again.
No one said the saiyan inclination to fight had to make sense.
He took a step forward, and nodded, "I suppose battling me IS interesting for you saiyans...you rarely find such a challenge just hanging around. And I could, I imagine, say the same of your kind. What's left of them, anyway."
There was an awkward pause, and she turned back to the mirror to finish with the hip bandings, hoping he'd just leave. She was experienced with flattery, but right now she simply didn't want to be bothered. He could wait to hear what an astounding opponent he was some other time.
She shut her eyes briefly and cringed as she ripped off the body tape that secured the banding to her skin, and turned back toward the sink, intending to wash up a bit.
He was still there.
"Was there something else you wanted?" she asked. Please say no...I'd really like to get back to the station sometime this week...
"As a matter of fact..." he said, "...there was. I don't suppose you're interested in sparring? I rarely have an opponent who can last more than a few seconds...and who doesn't start crying when they lose."
It was like dangling cake in front of a child. He saw the spark in her eyes and could almost smell the hunger for battle rising from under that façade of simpering civility.
"Well, I'd certainly like to say yes, but the directors would really rather I not go constantly to and from the healing tanks. It was hard enough on their scheduling as it was with you trying to break every bone in my body." She turned away and unbanded her chest, then changed into her armor, inwardly grumbling at not having had the chance to clean up a bit.
"That's funny," he said, as they left the dressing room and headed down the hall, "I could swear that you were enjoying yourself."
"You're very perceptive, Lord Frieza," she said, glad to slip back behind her sycophantic mask. Perhaps that would keep her from falling back into the battle-hungry mood he'd tried to pull her into, "I hate to admit that I enjoy it. I try not to, yet it keeps dragging me back in. But I'm guessing you already knew that."
"Of course," he replied, "But at least you're able to bring it down to a manageable degree. Most monkies barely have the wherewithal to do more than sneer at others."
"I try to strike a balance between the two. Going full flattery rarely ends well for anyone."
"And here we are."
They walked into one of the two training rooms in the hallway, and Kale felt a little uneasy as she took off her armor-having only brought one set with her and not wanting it to get smashed up. But she brushed the feeling off as he walked across the room, turned to face her, and moved into his fighting stance.
The hunger was electrifying and she rushed at him fist first. He sidestepped, grabbed her leg, and flung her into the wall. Growling, she dashed back and threw a ki ball at him from each hand.
He deflected each one and pushed forward, giving her a stunning blow across the face. She spit blood, and looked up at him with a grin. Her heart was racing as she flew at him yet again, only to be kicked into an opposite wall.
He then went on the offensive and she found herself hopelessly outsped and on the receiving end of a flurry of punches, only a few of which she managed to block. He smirked as she yelped briefly from an impromptu kidney shot; and laughed when he noticed the cringe that resulted.
It continued like that for nearly an hour, until she finally conceded and admitted Frieza to be the victor. She bowed briefly and then headed for the door, quite pleased with the outcome. No healing tank visit, no threat of death, just a good fight. It was more than she could've hoped for.
He grabbed her arm as she passed. "Where do you think you're going?"
" I'm...I'm sorry, I thought we were done fighting. That..." In a moment of panic she tried to yank her arm from his grip, and found herself flung against the nearest wall.
He was in front of her in a split second and had to hold back laughter as she realized her back was against the wall. The look on her face...oh, that was delicious. "We are done when I say we are done. I think there's one very important fact you seem to have forgotten. Look at me. Look. At. Me."
Just one, he says...
Kale looked directly at Frieza and her face drained of all color when he leaned forward and whispered, "I own you."
He was close. He was way too close. What was he even-
No. No. NO.
"Don't look so frightened, my dear. This isn't going to hurt a bit."
She tried to move away, but he only chuckled briefly and pinned her against the wall. "You aren't going anywhere," he added, "And you were told not to go back to the healing tanks just yet, so I suggest you cooperate."
Shaking, she shut her eyes, and lowered her head as he made short work of the lower half of the form-fitting underarmour suit and left it in pieces on the floor. She felt his hand travel back up-and her face lifted with it.
"You aren't going to change a thing by shutting your eyes to it," he said, pressing closer. "Look at me." He waited a moment, and when she didn't obey, wrapped one hand around her throat. And laughed.
Her eyes snapped open and she visibly cringed at the sound, and for a split second she was back on the bridge of Cooler's ship, watching Planet Vegeta be destroyed once again. Listening to his mirth at the destruction. The past mixed with the present, and she heard the sounds side by side. She tried to scream, to make a noise, any noise, but found her voice completely stolen away.
A devious smile stole onto his face and the grip on that delicate throat was loosened completely as he forced himself into her.
The kiss that came afterwards felt like a gift of mercy, as for a brief moment it allowed her to shut her eyes and shut out this misery; but she felt her heart drop somewhere into the neighborhood of her stomach when his hands settled on her hips and he actually started to move in and out of her.
There was silence for a minute or two, until she realized her body was actually responding to Frieza's violation. Then as he drew back from the kiss, she gave a small yelp and bit her lip-hard enough that a trickle of blood made its way down her chin afterwards.
"Oh, come now," he said, breathing only slightly heavily, "There's no need for that." But with a strong inward thrust he noticed something he'd been waiting for, or rather, several somethings. First, the tears she had been trying to hold back were finally flowing, and second, she'd made an involuntary oh sound. Halfway home. And then there was that growing warmth...
One hand slipped to the back of her head, and pushed it down-right into his shoulder, where she kept letting the tears fall. He whispered again, and, trembling, she slipped her arms around him. Her nails clenched at his skin and he found himself groaning in an odd pleasure when they drew blood. Oh, yes, she was perfect.
"Enjoying this, are we?" He whispered in her ear, "Go on...make a little noise for me..."
She tried to clamp her mouth shut but he pushed deep, rousting a low moan from her. Smirking at the sudden shamed look on her face, he continued, feeling the excitement rising each time he forced the sound from that throat. And-oh, yes, her grip on him was tightening.
As the feeling started swelling, he lifted her chin and looked briefly at that tearstained face. She didn't look away this time, but quaked at the touch.
No, she thought desperately, ...no, not with him...I can't, not with Frieza...
And then the end came-for both of them. He pulled her into a vicelike embrace and an even more unforgiving kiss, keeping them both in silence as the intense fervor swept through.
Only when it had passed completely did he draw back, savoring every second of the afterglow.
"Was that so bad?" He paused, grinning when she didn't protest. "I thought you'd enjoy it."
He stepped back and looked over his handiwork. She was nearly hyperventilating in a frantic attempt to avoid breaking down further in front of him; staring wide-eyed at nothing; and shaking like a leaf. And when she finally did look up at him, it was with the kind of terror in her eyes that was almost as fulfilling as actually ravishing her-an expression which repeated with an added flinch when he looked at her again as he left the room.
The second he was gone she went straight into the sparring room showers and stripped down. But no amount of scrubbing could banish that scent in her nose or the sounds he'd forced out of her from the corners of her mind.