**Just a quick warning - these next two chapters contain a little more adult content than usual, but nothing too graphic.**

Chapter 37

Watching Ladon working frantically to bring the ancient Stargate device back to life gave Kolya a deep sense of satisfaction. Not only because possibly the most noteworthy Lantean invention ever created would soon be his, but because he realised he at last had both this little man and Sheppard rattled. Ladon wiped beads of sweat from his brow as he squinted at his work, and though it was warm on that ship even at this late hour, Kolya knew it was nerves that were troubling him, not the heat. The two men who had stolen his rightful position from him were suffering, and that was just as it should.

He perched his substantial bulk on the edge of Ladon's workstation and smirked down on him. 'I hope you can work quickly, Ladon. My Wraith friend is growing hungry and keen to feed again.'

Ladon glanced up very briefly, then shook his head with a wry smile as he returned to his work. 'You are a heartless, soulless man, Kolya. It is beyond my understanding why anyone believes you are the best person to lead the Genii.'

'Because the Genii are not about compassion and intellect, Ladon. The Genii are first and foremost about strength. I possess that in abundance...and you do not.'

The scientist continued to shake his head, the only act of defiance he had left to him. 'Your methods are out-dated, Kolya. We need to progress as a people. Violence isn't always the answer.'

'Yet it seems to motivate you,' Kolya quipped, glaring at him.

Ladon apparently took that as a sign he should shut up, losing himself in his work again.

As he slipped from his seat and strolled around the laboratory now, Kolya couldn't help but marvel at the Lantean design and technology surrounding him. Though he'd been to Atlantis, there had been little time to fully appreciate its wonder and power. Sheppard and his unflinching resistance had seen to that. But here, right now, this ship belonged to him, and he could take all the time he wanted to examine and admire it at his leisure.

Or perhaps not...

'Commander Kolya, one of the Atlantean reconnaissance devices just came through the Stargate,' a voice told him over his radio, spoiling the moment.

'Did you disable it?' he demanded, flashing a look Ladon's way just in time to catch the man's obvious glee before he could mask it.

'Yes, Sir, and the Stargate is now engaged again to shut them out.'

Kolya was relieved to hear that much. It had bought him some more time. 'How did they get it through? I thought you were keeping the 'gate busy.'

'We were, but it was as if they knew the moment it shut down. Before we could put in the co-ordinates again, they had begun to dial in and blocked us.'

The Atlanteans clearly had some way of connecting the moment the 'gate disengaged. 'Keep it open as long as you can now, but be prepared. The moment it shuts down again they will most likely make an attempt to come through. Ready your heavy artillery. They may arrive in their ships and you need to take them down before they can hide themselves from view.'

'Yes, Commander.'

He turned toward Ladon again. The man was lifting a delicate set of crystals from the device. 'That could scupper your plans,' he muttered, not taking his eyes off them as they glinted in the bright libratory light.

'I didn't ask for your opinion. Keep working,' Kolya snapped, refusing to rise to the bait though he dearly wanted to.

The little man laughed, then winced, panting through whatever pain had struck him to regain his breath. 'Sheppard said they would come. I must admit, they found us far sooner than I thought they would. Seems they are better at finding than you are at hiding.'

Kolya thought about knocking the smile off his face again, but the sickly hue of Ladon's skin and the permanent sheen of sweat now also beginning to soak through his uniform told him the man was already sick enough. He clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides, trying to subdue the urge to swing for him. 'If they come through the Stargate we'll bring them down. There will be no rescue, Ladon, so I suggest you get on with your work before I'm forced to feed Colonel Sheppard to that Wraith once again to remind you of your priorities.'

The scientist's smile instantly evaporated, Ladon's expression now grave as he began to examine the internal workings of the device.

'Commander Kolya.'

This time a different voice interrupted him. He rolled his eyes. Sometimes being in charge could be so wearisome. 'What is it?' he barked into his radio.

'There's something you should see, Sir,' the voice responded. 'In the brig.'

Since no one was currently being held in the brig that could only mean one thing. It was something they'd seen on the viewing screen. He'd deliberately tricked Sarayah into believing he'd turned off the camera because he suspected she would do something to alert him to her true intentions. Apparently his tactic had already paid off.

'Keep an eye on him...make sure he keeps working,' he growled to the two soldiers present there with Ladon, then he set off at a pace to tackle the awkward incline toward the brig.

In the passageways nearing the prison areas the power was intermittent at best, and he was forced to thump a few flickering lighting cells to convince them to remain on and light his way. At least it gave his desire to punch something a useful outlet. A little out of breath by the time he got there, Kolya tried to look casual as he leaned against the wall for support and demanded to know what the problem was.

'Sir, you didn't shut off the camera you had on Sheppard and...' Malfus pointed toward the screen they'd set up to receive the images, apparently not having the words to describe what was causing his alarm.

Kolya looked at it, seeing Sarayah now straddling Sheppard where he had left the man tied to the chair in the bridge. She was forcing back his head and pouring in a good measure of some of his favourite helchin. He'd stolen it some months back and had been keeping it for a special occasion. Much as he was pleased with how things were proceeding, he wasn't sure it warranted that amount of expensive alcohol to achieve it, and he certainly wasn't happy that she was wasting it on a prisoner. Still, Sarayah had said she could persuade Sheppard to help, and this was clearly all part of her plan.

'Have they said anything of interest?' he asked, watching as she forced Sheppard to swallow down the savage brew. Kolya was a seasoned drinker, even more so in the days since Ladon had usurped his position, and even he suspected that would burn his innards from mouth to stomach.

'Sheppard has accused her of plotting to kill you once the device is fixed.'

Kolya nodded, unsurprised. 'And has she refuted that?'

'Not exactly, no. But she seems...' Malfus' voice trailed off as he struggled to find words to express himself.

'Go on,' Kolya urged, pinning him down with his gaze.

'She...her...her mind is...not as it should be...' Malfus finally managed to say.

Kolya looked at the screen, watching Sarayah fawn and squirm all over their prisoner before slapping him hard and grasping his face again, pouring more liquor down the man's throat.

'I see,' he murmured. Then he looked about at the few men gathered there. 'You men, go keep an eye on Ladon. I will see to this.'

The others immediately followed his order, but Malfus held back a moment. 'Aren't you going to need help to imprison her, Sir?'

'I don't plan to do that just yet, Malfus,' Kolya told him, still watching the screen as Sarayah slithered her way off Sheppard and began to parade around him, taunting him. 'It seems we will learn more of Sarayah and her intentions for that device this way than she would ever be willing to share under more normal circumstances.'

'But what of Sheppard?'

Kolya turned his cold glare on Malfus, who visibly shrunk into himself under the force of it. 'Sheppard killed over sixty Genii soldiers the first time I encountered him, and several more lost their lives when he chose to ally himself with our previous Wraith prisoner the last time our paths crossed. If I feel his life is threatened, I will intervene. Other than that, he deserves whatever he gets.'

Malfus looked sick, chancing another furtive glance at the screen.

'Do you have a problem with the order I've given you?' Kolya demanded.

The man seemed to struggle to swallow before answering. 'No, Sir,' he croaked, bowing his head as he walked way to join the others.

Kolya turned back to the screen and watched Sarayah a while. She was a bizarre creature, one moment emotional and fragile, the next a raging ball of anger. But one thing was clear to see. In those few minutes she'd spent alone with their prisoner, she had Sheppard more unnerved than he had looked throughout the entire feeding session.

So he found a reasonably comfortable place to lean against the cell bars and settled there to watch how things developed. Sheppard would get no sympathy from him. The colonel had shamed him in the eyes of his people, and now he would watch while Sarayah did the same to him, recording every moment to share with the other self-righteous Atlanteans at a moment of his choosing when it would have the optimum impact.

oooOOOooo

Sarayah finally let go of her fierce grip on his jaw and nose enabling Sheppard to choke out a hacking cough. How the hell Kolya and his cronies drank that evil brew was beyond him. He suspected it might be put to better use stripping paint or disinfecting latrines.

Since calling out bad Sarayah had proved a mistake, he now desperately tried to coax out her gentler side. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, left in a position where he had to make the choice that would cause the least long term damage. He'd thought bad Sarayah only wanted his blood, but since they apparently both had the same aim nice Sarayah now had the edge...just. And perhaps there was still the slightest chance he could talk her out of this.

'This...this isn't how our first time should be!' he blurted out, sickened to even be saying those words.

She frowned, apparently thrown by his sudden change of heart.

'Not exactly romantic, is it?' he continued now he had her attention. 'I was thinking there'd be music, candlelight. And maybe I'd have my hands free...'

She processed that for a moment. 'You've actually thought about it?' she asked.

'Hey, I'm a man, right?' he drawled. 'Statistically expected to think about sex at least once every day, so over the past few years you've definitely popped in there a few times.' It was killing him to say these things to her, but he was desperate. He would try just about anything to get out of this.

'Really?' She smiled now, her eyes bright with interest. 'And you imagined candlelight and music?'

'Yeah,' he lied. 'You know...you enjoy a nice meal, a glass of wine...you listen to some music and see where the mood takes you.' He knew she couldn't possibly have any idea what any of that felt like, but picturing it was keeping her otherwise occupied and that had to be a good thing.

'And that's how you envisaged our first time?' Her voice was breathy and soft, her eyes wandering over him in the way a starving man might eye a sirloin steak. She stroked his cheek very gently. It seemed like nice Sarayah was winning out.

'What can I say? I'm a hopeless romantic.'

She leaned in to kiss him very gently and he hoped he was getting through to her as he felt her hand slide down to the binding on his left wrist. But as she sat back, the passion in her expression switched to malevolence in less than the blink of an eye. 'Funny, I've always imagined it exactly like this,' she replied, testing that his bonds were firm. 'Sorry to disappoint you.'

He had nowhere to go and she was on him again, biting hard on his neck until he squirmed and cried out. Dammit! She really did think he was her next meal. He'd already been fed on enough times today.

'I'm not interested in romance, John. I take what I want, when I want it,' she growled into his ear. Then she stopped and leaned back with a leer. 'Why don't you beg me to stop? You never know...it might work.'

He hated it when she asked him to beg. She seemed to know when the words were on the tip of his tongue and every time she challenged him it made him all the more determined not to satisfy her.

She crushed her mouth to his again and he tried to think of just about everything else possible other than the fact her tongue felt like it was halfway down his throat. No, she really wasn't interested in romance. This was violent and invasive. This was meant to strip him of his dignity and leave him exposed and vulnerable. And right now he couldn't think of another angle to try to put her off. He was stuck there with her until somebody pulled her off him.

He sat beneath her, rigid with revulsion and the sheer bloody-mindedness not to react. He was determined to do nothing she could interpret as a green light.

Eventually she drew back, frustration etched into her features. But what was it she wanted from him? Fear? Anger? Revulsion? Passion? She'd already got everything from him apart from the last. Oh crap! Was that what she planned to drag out of him?

'Apparently someone's not relaxed enough yet,' she growled, grabbing his face again and forcing her fingers hard into the hinge of his jawbone until he was compelled to open up and receive another huge measure of Kolya's poisonous liquor. It filled his mouth, bitter and hot, but it was a vast improvement on her kisses, so he drank it down and let it scourge its way down to his guts. He figured he was going to need all the help he could get to get through this, and right now the booze was all he had.

oooOOOooo

McKay watched the countdown ticking away in front of him. Fifty-three seconds and counting until the 'gate on Karafus disengaged. He licked his dry lips, the seconds taking an absolutely agonising length of time to pass. They had to get to Sheppard. They had to get to that device.

Forty-five seconds.

Okay, so he knew time was a constant against which everything else could be measured, but today it was definitely defying universal laws. He glanced across at Zelenka sitting in the seat beside him, ignoring the man's sympathetic smile. He didn't need sympathy; he needed this mission to be over with and successful before he had a nervous breakdown.

Thirty-two seconds.

Of course, he really should be in that jumper with the rest of his team. He was indispensible in an emergency, and they had no idea what they might come across at the other end of that wormhole. Though he was a stickler for rules, some were meant to be broken, especially in an emergency. The "no scientists off world" rule was a case in point. Sheppard might really need his help and they would waste valuable time coming back to get him...time that could be life or death...time that could cost them the device.

Twenty seconds.

Elizabeth shifted her grip on the rail above the gate room, from where she watched the Stargate and the jumper. Her whole body was stiff with anxiety, but it was rare she ever let it out. Apart from when he'd destroyed four-fifths of a solar system. Oh yeah, she'd really let rip that day. But to be honest he never understood the unwritten rule that feelings had to be bottled up because it wasn't professional to vent. How could anybody ever know how incompetent they were if you didn't let them know when they goofed-up?

Ten seconds.

Okay, final countdown. He told himself to focus and counted the jumper's occupants into the dialling sequence, which fired up the moment the word 'zero' left his lips. The wormhole engaged and Lorne set the craft in motion the instant it settled back to the confines of the Stargate itself.

But within seconds it was clear something had gone wrong. A shout from Lorne told them the jumper had been hit by some kind of weapons fire the moment they had engaged the cloak, a well-aimed shot that had taken out one of the engine pods. And then the communications went dead and the 'gate shutdown.

Elizabeth gripped the rail for a few seconds longer before turning to face him. 'Dial it up again!'

Rodney nodded and sent the command, overriding his dialling program, but inevitably the Stargate would not connect. They'd missed the window. Rodney watched Elizabeth's head drop forward, her shoulders slumping. His heart sank. It would be another thirty-eight minutes before they could try again.

Elizabeth walked over to him. 'All right, so whoever is out there, and I'm gonna assume it's Kolya and Sarayah...or at least one of them...they have the weapons capability to take down a jumper. That means we can't send anyone else through that way.'

Rodney knew his eyes were bulging as he stared back at her, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'You shouldn't assume that!' he squeaked. 'That might have been the only shot they had big enough to take a jumper down.'

'And it might not be. I can't risk that,' Elizabeth insisted.

'But they might need help...or medical assistance...'

'Or they might be dead, Rodney,' she countered, raising her voice to a pitch and volume that lifted above his. 'I will not send anyone else through until we can be certain we have an advantage. Colonel Sheppard wouldn't want us to risk anyone else.'

She had a point, but that didn't stop him wanting to throw one of his infamous tantrums. He looked around at all the technology at his fingertips, the whole of the advancements of the lost city of the Ancients, and yet Kolya and Sarayah still had them beat. 'There has to be something more we can do,' he whimpered.

'I'm going to contact the SGC and apprise them of the situation,' Elizabeth told him. 'The Daedalus is still out of communications range right now, but I've been told that in a couple of days they will be able to communicate our dilemma to them and they can head back to Karafus for us.'

Rodney fish-mouthed a second, calculating time-scales based on Karafus' position in the galaxy. 'But it'll take them a week and a half to get there. They could have moved on by then!'

'The Daedalus is the only other way I know of getting troops onto the planet's surface without using the Stargate,' she argued, fixing him with a commanding stare. 'It's the only choice we have right now.'

'There has to be something else we can do!' he protested, 'It might not take Ladon that long to fix the device and then they'll be unstoppable.'

'I'm aware of that, Rodney!' she boomed back, bringing his panic attack under control with the sheer volume of her words. 'I wish there was some other way to do this, but I can't put any more lives at risk until I know we at least have a chance of making it through to Karafus in one piece. So give me another option.'

'I..,' his mind raced, but as quickly as his brain came up with an idea, it also came up with the flaws in it. Sometimes he really hated being a genius. 'I don't have one.'

He watched as the spark left Elizabeth's eyes. 'No, neither do I,' she said more quietly. 'Dial up the SGC for me. It's time to let them know what's happened.'

He nodded and dialled it up for her. The IOA would be furious when they found out whose hands the experimental 'gate was in. Sarayah having it was one thing, but Kolya...he was a threat of a whole different kind. Someone would be hauled over the coals for this...maybe several someones...and he figured he might just be one of them.

oooOOOooo

Acrid fumes filled his lungs as Ronon came back to full alertness. He was slumped against the side wall of the jumper cockpit, Teyla resting against him. She too now stirred, groaning as she tried to straighten, and instinctively clutching the back of her neck.

What had happened? They'd been heading through the 'gate and...that was pretty much all he remembered. But he could guess the rest. Someone had shot them down.

'You okay?' he asked Teyla.

She looked startled at the sound of his question, then immediately composed herself, nodding, though she winced as it awakened more discomfort in her neck. A little more memory seeped through now, Lorne telling them to brace for impact just before the jumper had slammed into the ground. She had whiplash, most likely. They'd hit pretty hard. It was amazing they were in as good shape as they were.

Ronon eased himself out from behind Teyla as gently as he could and fought his way to Lorne against the awkward list of the craft. The major lay worryingly still, sprawled out across the panels in front of him. He hesitated for just a second, wondering if it might be best to leave him where he was rather than risk exacerbating his injuries. But they needed every able body to get out of this. He had to at least try to wake him. Thankfully, Lorne roused almost immediately at his touch, the side of his face bloodied from impact with the controls, but he otherwise seemed okay. He blinked rapidly for a moment, looking around to get his bearings, then settled into his leadership mode. 'Is everyone okay?'

'Over here, Sir. Daniels needs attention.'

In the rear of the jumper one of Lorne's men lay unconscious, so Ronon struggled back up the craft now to reach him. It was only as Ronon bent forward to turn the man onto his back that he realised he was injured himself, a pain in his side drawing his eye to the bloodstain on his tunic. He lifted it, finding a deep but not life-threatening gouge in his loin. It needed attention, maybe even a couple of stitches, but that would have to wait. They were downed on a hostile planet. They needed to get out and try to take charge of the Stargate.

The rest of Lorne's team seemed well enough, all of them sporting minor injuries, but all mobile. So that just left the young man on the floor of the jumper to worry about.

Ronon pointed to the biggest, fittest looking marine there. 'You...help me.'

The marine nodded and helped lift his fallen comrade, supporting his legs while Ronon took his upper half.

'We need to commandeer the 'gate,' Lorne barked, rising unsteadily from his seat. 'I'll open the rear hatch and take point. Teyla, you watch our six.'

Though still looking shaken, she pushed several loose strands of hair from her eyes and grasped her P-90, allowing him to pass so she could follow him to the back of the craft. Sparks were erupting from the damaged controls with increasing regularity. They had no choice now but to evacuate the craft before it became too dangerous to stay on board.

Lorne hit the mechanism to release the hatch, setting it on its descent. They edged forward and out into the open, meeting no resistance. He signalled for them to move out, which they did, Ronon and his helper supporting the unconscious marine's weight as they clambered out of the sloping craft. They all but fell out of the rear down onto the dusty ground, but still their cargo remained unconscious. It had Ronon worried, not that he would say anything in front of the others at this point. Worrying them too would serve little purpose.

They got no further than rounding the side of the jumper before they found themselves at gunpoint...Genii triple-barrelled gunpoint to be precise.

'Drop your weapons,' an overzealous-looking specimen ordered, his eyes darting around their group without ever settling on any one of them.

Ronon had seen itchy trigger fingers often enough to know this man was going to hurt someone if they didn't do as he said. He inwardly cursed himself for not taking point so he had a clear shot. He would have made short work of this idiot and his friends without them getting off a single shot.

'Do what he says,' Lorne grunted, unclipping his guns and laying them on the ground, then holding his hands up in surrender.

Ronon couldn't do the same since he was still carrying their colleague, instead allowing one hesitant looking Genii to approach him and pull his magnum free from its holster. He hated to give it up so easily, but this was not a good time to resist. The time to fight back would come. Right now, they had to put themselves in Genii hands and hope for the right outcome. With any luck, they'd take them right to Sheppard and they could all fight their way out of this together.

Unfortunately, Ronon wasn't a big believer in luck. Life was just never that easy.

oooOOOooo

After this third generous measure of Kolya's finest brew, Sheppard felt the tell-tale affects kicking in, a tiny, almost split-second delay in the information meeting his eyes going in and then being processed that left him ever so slightly dizzy. The room tilted at an odd angle as Sarayah let go of him and he lifted his head, a sensation that left him feeling like he might be about to fall out of his chair, even though he knew that was impossible. He would have given anything for a glass of water at that moment. His throat felt raw as all hell after guzzling the turpentine Sarayah was now sipping. Why the hell she would drink it by choice was beyond him. Did she need the Dutch courage as much as he did? That was hard to imagine. Maybe the drink helped to keep nice Sarayah at bay.

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the seat, hoping it would help settle his brain back into its correct position, or at least make it feel better. He'd made a horrible mistake thinking he could pitch Sarayah's two personalities against one another, and now he needed to come up with a brilliant plan to get her off his back...or rather his lap where she was currently nestling in and making herself right at home. He could do this. He was good at brilliant, last minute, seat-of-the-pants and sometimes slightly insane plans. He'd saved plenty of lives with his zany schemes in his time on Atlantis, and in the years before that, too. He just had to think of one more. Sadly, right now, he was coming up empty. Surely there was one last wacky idea left in that could-have-been-Mensa brain of his? Oh, who was he kidding? His could-have-been-Mensa brain was practically pickled. He wasn't getting out of this unless someone took pity on him and dragged the vicious little harpy off him.

As he emerged from these dark thoughts he realised things had changed again. Sarayah was now kissing his neck so tenderly that there was a danger he might start enjoying it. Nice Sarayah was back, although in this scenario, there really was no nice Sarayah at all since neither of them seemed to understand the concept of refusal. Since she didn't care what he thought he decided to try to appeal to her sense of self-preservation instead. If it didn't work it might at least stall her. Either way, he had nothing to lose.

'Sarayah...I want you to stop...please,' he croaked. 'I can't do this when I'm wondering if someone's gonna walk in on us.'

'No one will disturb us,' she mumbled against his skin. 'Kolya is too obsessed with that device to care what's happening in here.'

'Except that thing's no use to him if something happens to me,' he pointed out, gasping as she sucked hard on his skin. It reminded him of that cold dark hole under her house in Medulsa, and the disgust it awoke successfully dampened any ardour that was in danger of building. He thanked God for suppressed memories; they always had a way of popping in to say 'Hi!' when he most needed them. 'And you have been a little rough on me. He might be worried what damage you'll do if he leaves us alone for too long.'

She lifted her head, meeting his eyes. 'I would never hurt you, John.'

He fought back the hysterical burst of laughter that one deserved. 'No...maybe you wouldn't, but he saw what she did to me in the cell. He doesn't understand you like I do...'

'Shhhh...' She pressed her finger to his lips, silencing him. 'We're wasting precious time.'

She kissed him again, her hands now wandering all over him, her touches growing more urgent and impatient, each one trying to provoke his body into a response. He realised then that she didn't care what he or anyone else thought. All that mattered to her was making the most of their time alone. It struck him now that nothing he said or did was going to make the slightest difference. She'd set her mind on satisfying her need for him, and he couldn't do a damn thing to stop her.

Panic set in.

He jerked in the seat, trying to throw her off him. 'Just stop this. Stop this now!'

'Why, John?' she purred, clinging on tighter and covering his neck in kisses again, working her way down to his collar bone. 'You said you've imagined us together...why suddenly so averse?'

'You know why!' he rasped, straining against his restraints. There was no give in them and they bit into his skin rather than stretching at all under the force of his struggling. They'd known they needed to make them strong because of the enzyme and it was clear to him now that he couldn't and wouldn't budge them. 'That was a lie. I don't want you and I never will!'

She lifted her head and grinned, stroking his face. 'Now, that's a lie. You need me in your life; I know that's the truth. Without me your existence is meaningless.'

'What?' Her hand trailed down his neck, down his chest, and then further on down until it rested somewhere that made him thrash against his bonds all over again. 'Get the hell off of me!'

'Shhh, relax. I know I can find something you like if you just sit still and let me keep trying.'

Anger at the violation welled inside him. 'Yeah...that's right. You've had a lot of practice at that kind of thing,' he spat. 'You've pretty much prostituted your way through this whole timeline just to get to me. Trouble is, I don't care much for whores.'

She slapped him, one hard, stinging crack across his cheek. Then she smirked. 'I'm willing to bet I can change your mind.'

Her hands grasped his belt and began slowly, painstakingly unbuckling it, her eyes all the time fixed on his, drinking in his horror. He couldn't mask it; it was there for her to enjoy and he knew it. He hadn't thought it possible to hate her any more than he already did, but her touches helped his loathing reach new heights.

'When I kill you, I'm gonna make sure you suffer 'til your last breath,' he hissed, gasping as her hands brushed against him, trying to evoke a reaction. He closed his eyes and thought of every horrible thing he'd ever seen... death, decay, torture...anything that might keep his body's automatic responses from kicking in. He realised he was quivering, not just a little either. His whole body shook with enough force to rattle the chair on its pedestal. He hated that his body couldn't be as rigidly determined not to buckle as his mind was. It felt like a sign of weakness despite the fact it was anger and frustration more than any other emotion that caused him to shake that way.

'Look at you...all trembling and breathless,' she teased, leaning in to steal another kiss. 'Still pretending not to like this, John?'

Bile rose in his throat at the thought she might truly believe that. 'Don't flatter yourself.'

'So you're afraid then?' Her smirk twisted her face still more as she chose now to slither off him. 'Let me try something that might help.'

For a moment relief flooded through him as she clambered off the chair. She walked around behind him and he tried not to hope that she was changing her approach. He doubted she was about to let him off that lightly.

'On Medulsa, when we broke in our cart animals, we blindfolded them first,' she told him, now trailing the gag she'd retrieved from the floor across his shoulder and over his exposed torso as she returned to stand in front of him once more. 'When they can no longer see they become instantly calmer...and more malleable.'

She climbed back onto the chair with him and twirled the gag into a narrow band, forcing it across his eyes. He twisted away from it, squirming and bucking again, but a few blows later she had him pinned, his face crushed into her chest as she tied it in place.

The job was done.

He was blind.

He felt her weight lift off him and he kept as still as he could, quieting his breathing so he could listen out for where she was and what she might be doing. Then he heard a sound he recognised. The sound of a knife being drawn. He couldn't tell where she was, but it hadn't sounded too close. Was she planning to write him another personal message now the last one was all but gone?

'See how much calmer you are now?'

He started, feeling her breath hot against his lips. He hadn't heard her move...hadn't sensed her anywhere near him. Her proximity came as a shock, but he tried to contain it. He'd already provided her with more than enough entertainment tonight.

Unfortunately, she obviously didn't share that opinion. He felt her climb back on the chair with him and begin to divest him of his clothes. 'Let's get rid of this troublesome uniform, shall we?' she taunted, cutting it away just a little at a time. She was clearly confident that Kolya had handed her the floor where he was concerned, and that had been his feeling too. She meant to make this as drawn out and humiliating as possible. As she cut away what remained of his t-shirt she caught his shoulder, no doubt a deliberate act as she so rarely made mistakes. He winced, but bit back the expletives it evoked in him.

She stopped as the fabric fell away, and he waited to see what her next move would be. Without the aid of his sight, he had no clue what she might be thinking. She shifted back a way until she perched on his knees, lifting the fabric of his pants away from his right thigh and slicing into it, the very tip of her knife grazing his skin just enough to make him grit his teeth. She stopped when the knife reached the bend where his leg joined his hip, letting the material fall from her fingers. He could feel air on his thigh, along with the sting of the relatively minor injury she'd inflicted. He waited to see what clothing she would attack next. Instead, he felt the blade of her knife rest flat against his face, then she slid it down and away, taunting him now with the insinuation that she could cut him whenever she liked and he was powerless to stop her.

A warm trickle ran down his cheek, the only clue that she'd actually done him harm. It had to be only a nick; he could barely even feel the sting. How many more of those would it take before Kolya stepped in? Plenty more yet, he figured. So was this to be submission by a thousand cuts? He didn't like the idea of that, even if the drink was numbing the sensations.

And that was when it struck him. One of those brilliant, crazy, seat-of-the-pants flashes of inspiration. He still had one more chance of getting out of this. And he could use one of her own tactics to do it.

'C'mon, Sarayah. You know enough about me to know you can't torture me into submission,' he challenged. 'You want this to happen...you're gonna have to use a lot more of that persuasion on me.'

Then, to his relief she said, 'Not a problem. There's plenty more of it,' before getting off him to presumably retrieve another bottle of Kolya's toxic brew from the supplies.

Okay, so it wasn't his best plan ever, but it was all he had left in his ammunition. If he kept goading her to give him more, it would waste time and maybe rescue would come, in one form or another. And if it didn't come...at least the drink would help him to forget whatever happened.

A/N: Ok, I know it's another cliffhanger, but there are a few coming up I'm afraid. I'll try not to leave you waiting for any longer than entirely necessary between each one. :)