Author Introduction: This story is inspired by and based upon the original scripted and intended love scene between the characters of Joey and Elliot from Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth. Though this scene did not show up in the final written draft, which is available to read online somewhere, it was included in an earlier draft. But also, it was more or less implied Joey and Elliot had made love; I don't think Doug Bradley and Terry Farrell were ever going to perform the sex. O_O But the scene where he takes his shirt off was going to happen, apparently, and they were actually going to share a kiss. Why, WHY was that scene cut out WHY? I wanted to see a shirtless Elliot, and I wanted to see them kiss. ;_; Oh well. Maybe Doug vetoed it, or...I don't know. Guess that's what fanfiction's for. And here we are. I followed the brief snippet from the original script I was sent and wrote fairly closely what happens. But the love scene of course is my own, and some of the dialogue surrounding it. I hope it's okay. Anyway, this also so happens to be a birthday present for my friend, Sharona1981. Hope you all enjoy! - Laura

Beyond Comradely

Joey Summerskill stared to the man - no, ghost - stood before her; a kindly and friendly-looking fellow kitted out in an old style military uniform, warning her of the potential dangers her world faced, dangers from his darkness personified.

The one who had identified himself as Elliot Spencer, an army Captain from the First World War, told his angst ridden story; a story littered with pain, needless death, survivor's guilt, alcohol, opium and sex with hookers amongst many things. Those being of a deadly yet strangely beautiful Puzzle box, a Puzzle box which had lured Elliot to his eternal damnation as a Hell bound Cenobite responsible for giving pain and pleasure to anyone who would solve this box - the very same box which sat untouched on Joey's table back at her apartment.

Now the demonic side of Elliot, his darkest desires unbound, wanted the puzzle box for himself - to destroy it so he could create Hell on Earth - and it was down to Joey to stop him, along with her ghostly visitor.

Joey could hardly believe this man had been the creature he spoke of. He had such an accommodating face, a face replenished with benevolence, appearing now to be somewhat different from the distorted image she had seen on the monitor and her television screen just hours ago...a distorted image that had very much scared her into submission.

She, of course, was aware he was the same man in the old black and white photo she had found amongst the research papers from a one Dr Channard, but she had no idea who he was or why he kept appearing on television screens. He had startled her, but the very moment she had come into his realm, gazed into those eyes, she could hardly tear her own eyes away from him.

His eyes, his agreeable half smile, his gallantry...oh his voice...

Wait a minute; was she feeling what she thought she was feeling? Surely not. Impossible. Or was it?

He was an astonishingly handsome man, and had the kindest smile, a gentle smile which melded perfectly with those sapphire eyes and made them twinkle like stars in the sky on a clear night. He was charming and polite. Actually a step up from the usual idiots she had dated in the past. Yes, the tell tale signs were there, she was aware of them. She just didn't want to consider the fact that she was falling in love with the long dead World War one Captain before her.

Falling in love...? BAH! Joey Summerskill never falls in love! Why should it happen now, and with a ghost?

But somehow, it HAD happened - but that didn't matter. She wouldn't allow for her blossoming aching feelings for felt toward the lost soul before her to influence her judgement. She couldn't, not with what lay ahead. Instead, she poured all of her efforts and concentration into completing this rather dangerous mission. The whole world depended on her.

"What can we do?" she asked of him, attempting to shrug off the tug she felt at her racing heart.

That slight, gentle smile spread his inviting, kissable lips and Joey felt her knees buckling, her heart now at the speed of light. "I like you, Joey." he stated tenderly, those vividly pale yet beautiful baby blues of his boring into her as he spoke. "You ask all the right questions. There is something we can do but it will require great courage."

Joey was suddenly enveloped by intense feelings of hesitation, and of fear, and she took an unconscious step back from the kindly soldier. "I don't know-"

Elliot - without prior warning - reached out and stroked her cheek, hindering her mid sentence. His touch was surprisingly warm... for a ghost, and Joey felt herself shuddering as his fingers traced her cheek slowly. Gently. Kindly. Lovingly.

"Joey..." Elliot interrupted his voice so soothing and consoling as he spoke, his hand still cupping her cheek. It slowly fell back by his side. "You walked through your window from one reality to another. You're stronger than you think."

Joey swallowed hard as she continued to stare deeply into those affectionate blue eyes. "Tell me what to do." she spoke determinedly.

"This is his first night on Earth." Elliot explained, speaking of the creature that was his darkness personified. "Like all Lieutenants, he covets command. There's a gateway to Hell which he can be taken back. The key. He wants to destroy it. He wishes to be no longer sealed from the world, a world which is thronged in flesh and corruption. But he doesn't have it."

Joey's voice quaked through inquiring about the 'schism' Captain Spencer's darkness unbound wanted to seal forever. "Where is it?"

Elliot's face darkened immensely. His kindly smile replaced one worthy of worry and concern, and his eyes firmly locked with hers. "Your apartment." he replied glumly.

A horrified gasp emerged from Joey's lips at Captain Spencer's revelation. "Wha-? What do you mean by 'in my apartment'?" The reporter's voice was all a quiver now, but Elliot raised a hand, the same gentle smile re-emerging.

"The Box, Joey..." Elliot divulged, his voice calm yet his eyes were glittering with such determination and alarm. "He wants the Box..."

Once all had been explained, Joey was now ready and willing to return to her realm, the real world to take on the demonic half of the man stood before her, the man she felt an inexplicable and unusual bond to. Suddenly, before she could bid the officer farewell, Elliot flinched - making a subtle move, using his hand to cover his chest. The young reporter soon noticed the Captain's pain.

Joey's eyes narrowed at the sight and found herself raising her hand to his. "What is it?" she asked, her voice flowing with concern as her hand made to shroud over his, slowly and gently.

Elliot was obviously in pain. His widened eyes, pursed lips and the slight moan which he was attempting to keep from growing larger in volume were a dead give-away. Though the long deceased army Captain shook his head, not daring to look her in the eye as his hand lingered across his chest. Joey was aware he was hiding something.

"Nothing for you to be concerned about." He is calm and defensive as he spoke those words.

With a brush of her hand, she slowly removed it from his chest where blood from a deep bullet wound began to seep in quantity from his coat. Joey registered the wound from her dream, a dream where her father had the exact same wound, and gasped.

"Elliot, you're...hurt...you're bleeding..."

"It's not your fault." Elliot replied indifferently, still refusing to make eye contact. "This is my Hell Joey, and you don't belong here."

Elliot turned his back to her, and began removing his coat and shirt, with Joey gasping slightly again when the strong contours of his back were revealed to her once his shirt was slid off his torso. Though this time, the gasp was born out of pleasure than horror.

The reporter could hardly tear her eyes away and continued to watch on as Elliot tore off a piece of material from his shirt to treat his wound. Joey watched on... worried... intrigued...aroused...

'God, tell me I'm reading this wrong.'

But then he turned, revealing his chest and stomach, a body so strong, so muscular... so fine, his form resembling that of a light weight boxer. Though now, there was an ugly bullet wound just under his pectoral muscles, somewhat marring his almost perfect and slender form. But she didn't care.

She moved closer to Elliot as she sat herself down on the uneven ground, settling herself down next to him, staring at him. Elliot captured her blue-eyed gaze with a powerful gaze of his own, unaware of the knowledge he had utterly taken her breath away. He smiled boyishly, embarrassed to be shirtless in front of her. The natural hue of his cheeks on such a handsome face seemed to flush a deep blood red the longer their gazes remained.

Joey smiled, somewhat amused by the image of a ghost crippled by shyness. Then her hand journeyed back to his hand, still covered protectively over the wound, slowly engulfing it. "Can I help?" she whispered.

Elliot took a moment to drown into her eyes, taking in her natural beauty. He found himself blushing once again, a boyish smile tugging at his lips. Then he realised where this is going and quickly shrank away from her and from her gentle touch. "It's fine. Thank you."

The young forthright reporter was not taking no for an answer, obviously. Against her better judgement, Joey leaned in closer to him, gently pushing him to his back. "You should lie down." she murmured as she hovered over him, both her hands now absent-mindedly smoothing over his chest, caressing the scarred but soft skin. She could feel the evidence of his hardened muscles under her palms, her loving touch, whilst Elliot stared quizzically to her, unprepared.

Elliot noticed she was moving closer, like she was being pulled in by an unknown and unseen force.

"What are you doing?"

His voice was but a whisper as her face drew near, and he too found himself leaning in.

Joey's smooth hand travelled up his chest, finally settling at the nape of his neck. She felt his body shudder slightly as her fingertips rest at the jaw line and her lips finally met with his...kissing a ghost for the first time.

Joey's first impression of his lips was right; they were kissable, in every way, and very welcoming under hers. For several seconds, their questing lips brushed together; probing, sliding, melding, the combined heat from both their lips now intense and searing. But, however much he wanted this, and before their tongues could push past to enter the one another's mouths, Elliot gently pushed her away. His lips were now red, throbbing, and prising forcibly from hers.

"Joey..." he gasped breathlessly, his bare chest rising and falling rapidly. "I can't do this. I...I'm sorry." He moved away from her, his hands - huge in comparison to hers - tearing out from her warm grasp and awkwardly placing them by his sides.

Joey felt her heart sink, and her eyes were beginning to mist over with tears. "Why?" she asked, attempting to close the distance he had created again, since their kiss ceased, by casually sliding over.

Elliot, wanting to move away but incapable of the action since he was now frozen to the spot, shook his head sadly, his fantastic blue eyes refusing to meet with hers.

"I'm...I'm a ghost Joey. My mortality died a long time ago. Additionally, do you really truly believe that you will be able to face the demon - the darkest part of my soul, to take him on, defeat him - if we...if we were to-"

His panicked words which were flowing unevenly from his mouth were interrupted mid-flow when Joey tenderly placed her forefinger to his inviting lips, her other hand pressing against his chest and gently caressing.

"I don't care if you're a ghost Elliot," she soothed. "I don't even care if I have to confront and take on a demon out there with your face..." She placed another love-filled kiss onto his lips, a brief one. His face was now cupped by both her hands, their noses practically touching as she whispered to him; "All I know is that...this feels right."

Joey didn't wait for a response. Instead, she leaned back in to him and captured his mouth with her own; their kiss growing much more passionate in volume with every passing second. This time, their tongues completed their journey and found their way into the other's mouth.

Elliot completely lost himself in the passionate kiss he seemed to be sharing with the very attractive and very much alive Joey Summerskill. His hands gripped her hips possessively and he pulled her in even closer to his body. He was very certain if he had a heart in his chest this very moment, it would be racing just like hers.

Just when it appeared they were reaching point of no return, Elliot broke away once again, his breathing rapid and greedily taking in much needed air as his eyes pierced into hers.

"Joey, I..."

"What is it?"

Elliot took a deep breath, then took her hand in his. "Joey...I...I have to admit that...it's been a long time since I've...known pleasure like this. And I'm...I'm not sure that...I won't hurt you." He took another breath before he continued. "All these decades in Hell, I...I... can't promise you that part of the monster isn't still in here, Joey."

Joey placed another kiss on his lips, her eyes locking once again with his, before simply murmuring; "It's the man I have come to love, Elliot. And I can see no monster here."

Elliot's mouth now was a gape at what he had just heard.

'Love? Did she just say she loves me?' Elliot wondered.

How could she love a ghost, and not just any ghost - but the ghost of the once disillusioned Elliot Spencer? But taking one look into her eyes shown that she was understating the truth. She did indeed love him, and if he was being honest with himself, the feeling was certainly mutual.

He'd connected with her on a level no one had ever done before. He had connected to her very mind, through her dreams. On a psychic level. This was the kind of intimacy only lovers ever shared.

They were both kindred spirits, met through a night-time world.

A sad smile emerged on his lips, and his hands once again pull her into his strong arms, against his strong chest and his mouth clamping onto hers with their inquisitive lips now melding and merging together, becoming one. Even, in sweet acceptance, the blood soaked, desolate scenery around them dissipated and became a more peaceful and happier landscape - a field of bright red poppies.

He moved his hands up her arms, slowly; skilfully running them to behind her back where he unravelled the bow on her nightdress. Once undone, the nightdress casually slipped off her body - again the work of his skilled hands, and leaving her naked...and beautiful.

Their lips never parted through the long lasting kiss whilst the reporter lowered herself down across the ground, indicating her need. She curled her arms around his neck and brought him with her as they lay out across his discarded green army jacket...together.

For what seemed like an eternity, Joey shown Elliot the true meaning of pleasure through the act of love making. This wasn't just sex as it had been in the past for him when he sought out hookers to ease his pain. This was love. And for the first time in years, he felt complete. Fulfilled.

As for Joey, she was certainly not hurt by her ghostly lover whom feared that the monster who was once in control of him - the monster who was him - and was now running free in the real world, was still apart of him. But he was wrong. There was no trace of any monster lumbering within that calm and placid soul, and that was the truth.

But now, Joey and Elliot - their love making coming to an abrupt end - were both now scrambling for their clothes, and making themselves respectably clad once again. Elliot, kitted out in that old-fashioned uniform of his, held out his hand to Joey and she took it without hesitation.

Pulling her in closer, Elliot brought her hand about his lips and planted a slight kiss to it, before he whispered tenderly, "I'll be seeing you, my love...very soon. Now go, bring my darkness to its knees."

In the quick blink of an eye, Joey was back at her apartment, lying flat out on the couch with the century-old radio beside her still. She found herself rising from the couch, her limbs aching and her eyes immediately drawn to the TV which shown a report of a brutal and bloody massacre at the Boiler Room club. She immediately knew this has something to do with the demonic entity that was once a part of the man she had just made love to.

Made love to...? It was a dream surely? It wasn't real.

But feeling the throbbing, the drying fluids running down her legs was enough for Joey to realise it was real... it had happened. It wasn't an illusion. It was as real as the threat that awaited her, and Joey now knew what she had to do.

Her clothes now thrown on to her aching body, and having just made a frantic phone call to her groggy cameraman friend Doc, Joey gripped the odd but beautiful puzzle box in her hands, staring to it, and thinking of the handsome and kind soldier in Limbo. The one who had opened this very box within her grasp and sealed his fate, becoming something other-worldly over seventy years previously. That very being, the darker half of Elliot's soul, who was now running amok in New York city.

Joey Summerskill smiled determinedly and whispered whilst glancing upward to nothing in particular, "No matter what happens, I'll always love you, Elliot Spencer."

And with that, she was gone; taking the box with her to face darkness dead on, whilst her ghostly lover watched on. Elliot was unable to answer her, but no matter what he would always keep a benevolent eye on her, until the demon was back in his dominion.

He would go to Hell, again, to protect the world being over run by the darker half of his soul, but especially for the young reporter Joey Summerskill who had well and truly captured his long dead heart...

The End...