Chapter 13

Confusion reigns supreme.

That was the only thought going through Keats's brain, such as it was, as he prised the bucket from his backside and continued to rattle the door handle. What the fuck was going on? One minute his every dream had come true and it was the night of his life. The next he was in a dark, dank place with a bucket-bottom and a door that was refusing to open for him.

Which was more than could be said for Kim, who found the doors opening up before her once again.

That spooked her rather a lot. She had seen it happening for Gene way back on her first go around, and for Alex too. Hell, she'd even seen doors open for Simon on occasion, but to see them opening wide to allow her through sent a shudder all through her body. The feeling was made so much worse by the knowledge that the doors were inviting her to step through and confront the man. The monster. The one who'd haunted her nightmares for almost a decade of her life.

As she stepped inside the chair finally gave up holding back Keats and the door opened. A wet, furious and dishevelled Keats stumbled out from within, panting breathlessly and glaring around him as though looking for something or someone to blame. However, never in a million years had he expected for his eyes to fall upon the person standing before him.

He had never felt an instance like it before in his life. All at once it felt very specifically as though the world ceased to turn. His heart flared like fire and his body seemed to stiffen on the spot. His jaw dropped although he never would have admitted it and quite instantaneously his stomach felt as though it flipped right over inside of him. As he stared at her face; her cold, callous, unyielding expression, something burst through from deep inside of him where it had stayed deeply hidden and whispered one word;

"Kim."

A momentary blink of humanity shone through his petrified expression before the monster overrode it and it felt as though that moment had never even happened.

Kim stared right back at him. It was funny, she thought to herself, but she had expected to be more scared of this moment. All the times she had thought about the moment she'd come face to face with him again – because she had never been able to shake the horrid, wretched thought that it was going to happen eventually – she had imagined herself crumbling under the weight of the memory of the torment and abuse that he had put her through, both back in 1995 and during her kidnapping on the barge.

Yet the reality couldn't have been any more different. As she stood there, her soaked clothes clinging to her undernourished frame, blonde crop flattened and make-up running she had never felt stronger, angrier or more determined to see a job through to the end.

It was time to make him pay.

"Kimberley," that was more the tone she was used to. He glowered at her now as the shock began to wear off just a little. Brown eyes met blue. The darkest eyes met the brightest eyes. The darkest soul met its equal and opposite. And despite the expression that did not falter there was a part of Keats that shook inside. "It's been a long time, Kimberley," he took a step towards her. She wasn't moving. Why wasn't she moving? She was too scared, that was it. She had to be. There could be no other reason for her to be so still and silent. He tried to keep his resolve as he took another step. "Well well, who would have thought you would end up back here? Didn't your buddy Simon tell you not to play with the big boys any more? Out of the force, weren't you? 'He'll never find you that way', that's what he said, wasn't it?" he took another step. Why wasn't she running? Why wasn't she wavering? Why was her expression so cold, so calm? "But then," he raised an eyebrow, "I did find you, didn't I? Well, my friend Mister Layton did. You should have known better than to rejoin."

He took another step closer and found himself gulping involuntarily. He stared at her and turned up the smirk, expecting for her to crumble before him but somehow it wasn't happening. He cleared his throat a little.

"And now you're back?" he said, raising an eyebrow, "what happened? Step a little too close to the edge of the road? Get a little too friendly with a man with a knife? That always seemed to be your weakness in the past, Kimberley." He sighed. "I hope you're not expecting to step right back into your old post. Because I doubt your old desk is still there. Well, I doubt the whole department is still there." He noticed – finally – a flicker of emotion on her face. Well that was a relief. This was no fun as it was. He needed her to respond to him. There was nothing worse than a blank face staring back in his direction when he was trying to provoke someone. "I hear a couple of little incidents occurred at Fenchurch East, you see," he continued. One more step and there he was, right before her, staring her in the eye. "What a shame. You turn up just as the building crumbles. Lucky penny you are, eh?" he gave a slightly bitter laugh and waited for her to respond properly but she was still as silent as before. His lip twitched. This wasn't going very well. In all the times he had imagined Kim returning, of all the times he had imagined confronting her and pursuing her she had always been emotional, tearful, in need of help. But she stared on ahead and said nothing, did nothing – felt nothing? Her coolness unnerved him.

"I see you took my style advice to heart," he tried a different approach, "after I gave you that trim." This time he definitely saw an instance of fear flash across her face. He smirked inside. Good, "and you've gone back to the blonde too," he noted, "almost like you stepped right out of ninety five." He frowned critically at the streaks she had arrived in 1997 with in her hair; the bright red one and the black one. "Although I think you could do without this. You don't belong in a girl band, I've heard you on karaoke –"

He made the mistake of reaching out to touch her hair and as fast as anything her hand stretched out and slapped his away, causing him to raise his eyebrows and take a step back

"It lives," he mocked, "I thought for a moment you were dead, standing there with a face like stone."

"Shut the fuck up."

Kim's words were as cold, calm and measured as Keats had ever heard. It made him freeze and take notice.

"Finding your voice –" he began but she interrupted him again.

"I said shut the fuck up," she hissed.

"It took a while to find your voice," Keats raised an eyebrow, "and now you have I rather wish you would lose it again."

"You need to stop talking, right now, she hissed.

Keats honestly cold not believe that she was talking to him in such a way. No one ever had before. No one had dared. He stared back at her, swallowed and drew in his breath.

"That's brave talk," he began, "considering the fact that I remember a little blonde girl who hung on my every word."

"Every lie you mean?" Kim hissed.

Keats didn't know what to say. This was new. This was awful and new. He tried to pull himself together as her unexpected words threatened to pick him apart.

"So what happened to her, then?" he asked, "what happened to Kim Stringer, the young lady who had beer in her veins?" He glowered at her. "I've seen you, Kimberley. I've watched you. Things have been different for me lately. I've seen what you've been doing, rotting away, pickling yourself every night. A right little female Gene and no mistake."

"Got it in one," Kim's teeth were clenched as she hissed her threat at Keats. He didn't understand what she meant and his expression waivered for a moment as she continued, "What happened to Kim Stringer?" she repeated, "I'll tell you what happened to Kim Stringer. She made one mistake. She trusted a man who told he could get her home. She never made that mistake again. She spent eight years hiding from who she used to be. She spent one year rediscovering herself. And then she spent months alone, adding layers and layers to her shell. And all of those things, those hard phases of her life, have led her to who she is right now. To who you see in front of you."

"And she speaks in the third person too," Keats tried to mock but the look on her face made him shudder inside.

"What I only see now," she continued, her voice devoid of emotion, "is that I had to go through that. Because if I hadn't then I wouldn't be strong enough. I wouldn't be hard enough. I would be no match for you."

"No one is strong enough to be my match," Keats hissed. In reply Kim reached into her pocket and pulled something from within. She opened it up and stared at it, reading the words herself before she turned it around and handed it to Keats. The moment he absorbed the words that faced him his stomach turned into a block of ice and he felt as though his legs were about to give way below him. "Impossible," he mumbled, blinking.

"It's true," Kim's voice shook for the first time as she watched his eyes rise from the object to focus on her again.

"This isn't fucking possible," he hissed, "this is my station. Nobody has control but me. No one is my equal. Anyone who tries is soon cut down to size."

"It's not me who's going to be cut down to size," Kim hissed, using his shock as the perfect opportunity to launch her fist at his crotch and leave him doubled over. He cried out in both pain and surprise, his head swirling with thoughts that were leaving him crazed and terrified.

"No one else walks in here with the same standing as me!" he cried, "this is my station! You don't stand a fucking chance!" he spluttered as he began to right himself but Kim grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled it hard.

"That's where you're wrong," she spat, "because you don't know who you're dealing with now. I'm not that scared little girl you once knew, desperate to get home. I've changed, Keats. I've been through too much. I'm too strong not to be your equal now." She snatched back the object that brought him the worst news he'd ever received and tucked it away safely once again.

Keats's eyes flashed with fury.

"No one is my equal," he repeated as he scrambled back to his feet.

"You really want to bet on that?" Kim hissed. The two of them stared one another in the eye, each daring the other to look away. "You've done enough damage, Keats. You're not top dog any more."

"Interesting turn of phrase considering you're trying to put yourself over as such a bitch." Keats sneered.

"I don't need to do that," Kim told him coldly, "I already am one."

"You think you have what it takes to go up against me?" Keats hissed, "You haven't got a fucking clue. You think you can just stand there and steal my power? Steal everything that makes me who I am without a second thought? You're wrong, Kimberley, because sooner or later the darkness is going to get you too." He stared her in the eye as she swallowed. "You might think you can stand up and brush away what it means to be a part of Fenchurch West but just you wait, Kimberley. Before you know it you'll be one too."

Kim felt cold.

"One what?" she whispered.

"Just another day of darkness plotted onto the calendar," hissed Keats, "you'll soon see."

Kim shook her head.

"You're wrong," she spat,

"Let's hear you say that a month from now," spat Keats.

"I don't care what I'm saying a month from now," Kim hissed, "I care what I'm saying today." Catching him unawares she threw a surprisingly hard and powerful punch into his stomach which winded him enough for her to follow it up with a knee to the bollocks.

As he dropped to the floor, howling with agony, she brought her heavy boot down hard over his hand and listened to him cry out in distress. "James Arsehole Keats," she cried, "I am arresting you for the abduction and assault of Chief Inspector Robin Thomas, the abduction and sexual assault of DCI Alex Drake and for being a complete and total bastard to everyone who has ever coe within fifty feet of your sorry arse!"

His scream died out abruptly as he bit hard on his lip to silence himself and she removed her boot from his hand, realising she might be taking it a step too far. Shit, she wanted to teach him a lesson, not take lessons in how to be him. She moved back a little as she watched him staring at her in silent shock and fury. It took a forever of silence for him to pull together enough sense to respond, his lip bleeding from sinking his own teeth so hard into his flesh.

"What," he breathed, "do you think you're doing? The charges won't stick, Kimberley. This building protects me."

Kim swallowed defiantly.

"Then," she whispered, "I suppose it will have to make a choice. Who's it going to ,listen to; you or me?"

"You don't stand a fucking chance," Keats hissed as he pulled himself up off the floor, "You step in here thinking you're little miss wonderful. So perfect."

Kim gave a fitful laugh at his words.

"Perfect?" she cried, "Oh, no. I'm not perfect. I'm so far from perfect it's untrue. Look at me, Keats, I'm every bit as flawed as you are," she stared him in the eye. "Which is what makes me so dangerous to you." She stared at him, bedraggled, bleeding, bruised. Suddenly she wondered exactly why he held so much power. He looked like a scared little brat. Something started to build inside of her. It was a strange feeling she couldn't explain. Energy. Strength. Power. She drew in her breath and with one last stare she spun around and walked out of the building. She had things to do. And listening to Keats was not one of them. He could say whatever he liked and his station could protect him all it wanted but this time it wasn't going to wash.

Gene, Alex, Simon, Robin – the fact was that none of them hated Keats quite as much as Kim. And that put her in the strongest position to fight him every step of the way.

X

Keats's expression cycled through emotions like a bored kid flicking through the channels on a TV set. One after another they flashed by – anger, shock, fear, hatred – the list went on.

But quite suddenly it stopped on an emotion that he wasn't used to feeling. Not that he was used to feeling very much at all.

"Kim –"

He whispered her name under his breath, horrified that the human side had made a reappearance after all that time. It had been a year since he'd allowed that side out. Not since the day that Kim left Gene's world for the first time had the man broken through past the monster. But he was there now, as clear as day.

Very quickly the dark side swallowed him up again as Keats's face contorted into a ball of agony and he let forth a scream that sounded throughout the station. The agony he felt inside was crushing him. This was supposed to have been the night he took all the glory – his rival station was in pieces, there were bodies all over the place, he had both Robin and Alex in his clutches and Little Jimbo was enjoying his first outing for a whole fucking year.

Then the tables turned.

In fact, a great big fucking table turned and fell squarely on his head.

His whole life… his station… his power… it wasn't truly his anymore. Suddenly his place and his position were both in doubt.

But what was never in doubt was his darkness. And with that darkness he was going to fight his interloper every step of the way.

However much he wanted her.

Man and monster both felt their world crumbling beneath them.

It was not Keats's domain any longer.

The End

~xXx~

A/N: Wow… I did say this was only going to be a short fic… I had no idea how much I was going to love writing it though. I have seriously not enjoyed writing anything this much since Dead Man Walking. Thank you so, so much to everyone who has read and even bigger thanks to those who have reviewed – you are really awesome and I can't thank you enough for following still.

The epilogue will be up tomorrow – along with an important announcement – and then a new story begins at the weekend