A/N: Irony being a staple of my life, the second part of this didn't make itself known until I'd posted the first part. At the request of a reviewer, rather than post an entire new story, I'm simply adding a chapter and will leave the story as InProgress rather than Complete. This follows It Takes Two to Renegade. The characters are Rache and Kaidan, both renegade.

Waking was a slow, painful process.

Kaidan groaned softly, his right arm clinking softly as he raised his hand to the back of his throbbing head.

"What the…" He cracked his eyes open looking at the manacle encasing his wrist without comprehension.

Chained?

Kaidan lifted his gaze to the dark walls about him, leaving the puzzle of his chained hands for the moment. Nothing was familiar. Brown and black warred with each other in a color scheme over pipes and mismatched paneling and coils of covered wire. The unrefined look was common on cargo ships moving freight through the systems and none of that explained what the hell he was doing manacled to a pillar in the middle of a room.

Kaidan struggled to his bare feet, the chains restraining but not uncomfortable. His back was against the pillar and his arms pulled back enough to immobilize but not to hurt.

Where was he? His last memory had been of a woman hot and willing in his arms and…

"RACHE!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, straining to pull away from the pillar, a futile effort that focused some of his rage.

Movement from the door at the far side of the room drew his attention.

She was tall and comfortable with it. Her body wasn't overly muscled and definitely curved in all the best places. Places even his anger couldn't keep him from appreciating as she sauntered toward him. Sleep shorts hugged her like a lover while the loose tank top made her braless state obvious and very tantalizing. Auburn hair swayed about her waist reminding him of the last time he'd seen the thick strands free, the night before Ilos his hands wrapped in the mass. Her green eyes were full of secrets. Her smile was pure wicked temptation and for a brief, weak moment, he was glad of the chains that kept him from throwing himself to her feet and begging.

"Did my booty call?" She all but purred coming close enough that the heat of her body teased him. Tormented him.

He had to be sick. Chained to a pillar, no shirt on, wanting her so much he'd sacrifice every Alliance secret he knew to have her. Resigning his soul to those of the depraved, he fought for control.

"Why am I chained up wearing nothing but leather pants?" He tried to keep his voice level, logical.

The slow lick of her tongue over her lower lip was a torture any civilized convention of war would deem cruel and inhumane treatment of a prisoner.

"Better question, cher..." Her husky voice stroked his spine and he ruthlessly suppressed a shudder of pleasure. "…is who put them on you."

She smelled so good. Like woman and sex and sin.

She brushed her nose against his jaw, a flirting touch like the nuzzle of a cat that lengthened and grew more determined until her mouth brushed the corner of his own.

He groaned, low and thick and jerked his arms forward, determined to grab her, take what she offered, lose himself in her until there was only man and woman and pleasure. The manacles restricted him and he didn't care. Finding her mouth, he plunged deep, more than two years of celibacy, of finding no other woman that came close to the one he was tasting reared up in hot demand.

He had to touch her, had to rub her until her throat went raw with the sounds of pleasure. Had to…

The fist hard in his gut drove his breath from him and gave an unwelcome return of his sanity.

"Rache!" He made her name a furious question when he could breathe again. "What the hell?"
"That was for using Talitha." She informed him in prim tones before abandoning his yearning body, driving him nearly to weep, long legs carrying her toward the door. "The manacles are the same I wore in the prison you put me in. The leather pants…" Pausing she looked back over her shoulder, her smoldering gaze slowly stroking him from head to foot, a wicked smile driving home just how much he wanted that mouth back on him. "…those were for me."

Kaidan stared after her, blood pounding hot and thick in him. He was depraved. He was sick.

He wanted more.