Sweet Innocence

by Ice-chan Queen of Soy

With Jackie in his custody, Valmont reflects on his worst enemy and himself...and takes matters into his own hands. *REVISED MORE- thanks for reviews! :)*

Sweet Innocence

by Ice-chan

Notes:  Let it be said that this story was inspired by a conversation I was having with a friend who helped me realise two things: 1) I had always secretly thought that Valmont was obsessive, and that during the Talismans era he had become more or less obsessed with Jackie, and  2) While I can write Jackie wonderfully in third person, getting the story straight from his POV was not fun.  I have tried writing this type of story many times from Jackie's perspective, and each time it came out awful.  Not only that, but it bored me as well.  It looked just as it was--forced.  Valmont, however, has a much more complex psyche.  He always did intrigue me.  Plus, I figure, he might be a great way to get rid of my aggression.  Well, it turns out that first person isn't my thing--even Valmont was hard.  But at least this piece neither bored me nor did it come out too badly, I don't think.

Anyway, the point is my friend helped me realise this, and since the idea wouldn't let me get any sleep, I wound up staying up till 4:30 writing this--by hand.  Of course, now that it has been typed, it's been greatly revised and edited.  But the point is, I STAYED UP VERY LATE!!!  I HAVE A TWITCH IN MY LEFT EYE NOW!!! ::ahem:: ^-^  And so, bearing that in mind--read and review, please! :)

Oh yeah- I think Valmont is in his late thirties on the show because of that time warp episode, but for the benefit of this fic I have made him forty-five.  Captain Black is forty-three (see "The Rock"), and I think it is cooler to have Valmont be older than him, not younger.  Plus I just can't picture him in his thirties.  Plus I think he should be a lot older than Jackie as well--it's cooler. :)

One last note- there is a bit of, ah, how shall I say this...gay stuff?  Not to mention a bisexual reference.  If you no like, YOU NO READ!  If you are offended by this stuff, GO AWAY!  Just don't say I didn't warn you.

Disclaimer:  JCA and all characters belong to Kids WB, Jackie Chan, and Sony Pictures.  All rights reserved.

-~-~-~

Before I delve too far into my story let me just say this clearly:  I have an insatiable hunger.  No, I don't mean literally, I mean as far as getting what I want is concerned.  Perhaps it is because I never knew love, or because my parents, being the miserable imbeciles that they were, spent a majority of their time and energy making money and bickering more than anything.  Or perhaps it was because I was spoiled rotten, so I never got used to the idea of an end.  Eternity, technically, is something incomprehensible to the human mind; yet I know nothing else.  Does this make me above humanity?  As a child I thought so, but for a long time I have wondered if maybe that is not true.  The fact that I am never satisfied, that I always want more and more and more, that I am miserable myself because of this--that is proof that I am not above humanity.  I might very well be far below.

I have always wanted to put an end to this hunger, this misery, but it was far too difficult to break away from the single principle which I was brought up knowing.  Now it is an addiction: now I need to keep feeding myself, keep controlling everything.  I am like a parasite in that sense; I survive off other humans, I survive by manipulating them.  It is this skill that keeps me above humanity.  Without it I am no one.

So I have been thinking about my hunger a lot lately.  I still want to satisfy myself.  Meanwhile, a new fear is beginning to grow in my heart.  You see, I have always thought that you, Jackie Chan, *you* would be the one who can save me, who can keep me human even if it is only for a little while, only when I am around you.  You are innocent.  You are satisfied.  I watch as your chest rises and falls with ease; your head is turned to me and your face is relaxed, a small smile formed on your lips.  You look so peaceful, so innocent in your slumber.  You must stay that way--for my sake.

Ah, yes, my fear.  What if, in fact, you do *not* satisfy me?  What if I get bored with you too?  What then?

It won't happen, it won't happen.  I tell myself this every time that fear creeps up behind me, and then, once I have defied it, it quietly recedes to the back of my mind.  It won't happen.  It can't.  The truth is, Jackie, my love, in all my forty-five years you have proved to be the one person who has made me stop in my tracks, who has made me think twice.  I have always been charismatic; no one could resist me.  But you...I don't see how anyone can resist *you.*  We are both charming, but in different ways; I am flirtatious and magnetic, whereas you are only naive.  You drive me mad--with desire and rage.

I have never had a lover--a real one, anyway; I have never wanted one.  Nor do I intend to make you the first--but I shall get to that later.  I have taken many to bed, both men and women, put them under my spell, stole their hearts and then left them to die.  I take a special pride in making people need me, *obsess* me--and leave them cold.  I might as well be the reincarnation of King Henry VIII, except I don't kill them--they die all on their own.

The difference between them and you, Jackie, is that I shall not let you die.  I shall put you under my spell.  I shall manipulate you.  I shall make you obsess me.  I shall make you mine... But never, *never* shall I break your heart.  I couldn't.  Your innocence is like a beacon in the ubiquitous darkness in my soul.  And you're pulling me to safety, safety, safety...

Always I wonder why this is.  Why must *you*, of all people, be my nightlight, my talisman which wards off my demons, the first thing I think of in the morning and the last at night?  Why must you, Chan, be the object of my obsession?  Why, why must you have that unconquerable innocence, that amazing hope that everything will be all right in the end, that unfathomable grace?

Why must you, of all people, possess the one thing that I never possessed and will never possess?

And I want it.  Now.

Envy is not a trait of mine.  I get what I want through hard work and determination.  But this...this is different.  Jealousy is a completely different ball game, and it isn't about hard work.  For you have something that can only be acquired at a young age; it can only be achieved by the luck of the draw.

You are innocent.  You are satisfied.  I am not.

Perhaps this is why I hate you so--no, I am sure of it!  Forget the fact that you outsmart my enforcers, or the fact that you manage to win every single talisman.  I don't care.  If you were not you--if you were not so bloody naive--I could *kill you.*  Easily.  I could track you down and have an enforcer shoot you, no problem.  You wonder why my security system is so simple to penetrate?  It isn't.  You think that, despite my presumably weak empire, you are lucky to escape with your life?  Trust me, you're only alive today because I have assigned only my most idiotic enforcers to confront you.  I hate you because you have something I want--and it is for that very reason that I cannot kill you.  Normally it would be the other way around; I would kill because you have something I want.  After all, if I can't have it, no one can.  But that is not true in this case.  Innocence is far too precious to be destroyed.  I *need* it--and that only makes me hate you more.

Yes, I do admit there were times when I myself tried to kill you, despite my beliefs of innocence.  Remember that dreadful dragon talisman ordeal?  I meant to go through with it.  I hated you then, but for a different reason.  Two, actually - first I was afraid that if I could have you I could not have the gold Shendu promised me.  But that was a silly reason, I thought; I have a plan now, which I will get to later.  But the main reason is that I feared you.  Fear you, yes, I did.  As I have said, innocence is something unknown to me; and there is nothing Man fears more than what he doesn't know.

But then one day I decided I wouldn't fear you.  I couldn't.  Fear holds people back.  Fear held me back from you.  Deep down, my dear, I wanted you, wanted you so badly it hurt my heart--that is, if I even have one.  Maybe I also feared you because deep down I also knew I loved you.  You are the only human being I have ever loved.  But understand this:  I do not love you very much.  Only a little.  I refer to you as "my love" or "my dear" loosely.  I would not trade my life for yours.  I am not saving your innocence to save *you*--but to save *me.*  Your innocence is something I want, something I need.  I keep you to myself because I desire you, not because I love you.  I want you to carry out my fondest wishes, to worship me, to *love* me--but *me* love *you*?  That is, for the most part, beyond my conception.

That is what I said!  *Love me!*  I want you to love me!  Jackie, Jackie, you have all that love in your heart--why waste it on that wicked old man and that brat niece of yours who don't appreciate you anyway?  Now I--*I* at least appreciate you.  I know that your birthday is 7 April; I know that your favourite colour is white; that you absolutely *despise* Bavaria; that you are not good at gift shopping; that you wish you were an eagle so that you might be to finally fly away, free.  So you see, I know you very well (with the help of a few government files and spies).  I know you more than your family does.  Oh Jackie, my love--can't you see they don't care?

Of course you can't.  You are too naive, too trusting.  You are satisfied.  You have no conception of evil, of what it means to be consumed by hate.  In fact, you probably wouldn't even understand a word I'm saying.  Perhaps it's rather hard to be this naive--is it?  Either way, it must be less of a burden than being a monster.  And a monster is all that I am and shall ever be.  I want to manipulate; I need that power.  And I want to have that power over you, I want you to really be mine--*all mine!*

Ah!  What's this?  Did I just as see an eyelash flicker?  I believe I did--yes, yes, and now I am looking into your soft brown eyes.  And soft they are:  for once that hateful glare you send me whenever we cross paths is not there.  Instead of coldness I see trust.  Thank the drugs for that; they never fail to nullify even the strongest of wills.

I slide my hand beneath your head, my fingers placed firmly on the back of your neck, my thumb on your cheek.  Let's get you up--oh I know, I know.  At this point all you want to do is lay there staring at me with those sleepy eyes of yours--but up, time to get up!  There we go, nice and easy... Poor Mr Chan, I can tell by your limp body and drooping eyelids that if it weren't for my hand holding you up you would collapse back into the bed.  We'll just turn you round, sit you on my lap, easy now... There, see?  That wasn't so bad now, was it?  You just lean on me now and all will be well in the world.  You'll see.

With your head propped against my front I raise my hand to your cheek and caress it.  So soft.  You really have no idea.  What sort of skin lotion do you use?  I slip my hand down your back, beneath the silk black robe.  Your whole body is like that, so soft.  And your hair--I run my fingers through your hair, and it is silky and knotty and wild.  And though I can't believe I am about to say this, I must:  We'll make sure you never use a comb here.  You wouldn't be as boyish if you did.  You wouldn't be you.

But are you really mine now, Chan?  Have you any limits?  Oh, I suppose we'll find out soon enough.  But for now...for now we'll just take a small test.  I cup your chin and lift it to my face.  Your eyes are curious.  I am too, actually, but now I can feel that familiar wicked grin spreading across my face, and I relish in its power.  Yes, this is it, the moment of truth.  This might very well determine just how dedicated you are to me--right now--just how weak you are.  This might tell me how much control I have over you now, and quite possibly how much I may gain in the future.

I lower my head till my lips touch yours.  I kiss you.

Sweet as honey; delicate as porcelain; light as a feather.  I can feel another sort of stranger force running through my veins.  Could it be what I think it is?  Yes, yes, yes!  Innocence--I feel innocence, for the first time in my life!  It is magic, magic!

I can't decide which is the best part: the innocence--or the fact that you're kissing me back.

I am somewhat surprised.  But your tongue mingles with mine in a very languid, almost graceful manner.  A stiff, bitter laugh grows in my lungs, but I manage to stifle it.  It is amazing, Chan, how utterly easy you are to fool.  Look, Chan, look at you!  You are so unresisting, so docile!  Your will--assuming you even have one--is as pliant as your skin.  It can be bent, contorted in all different directions.  Indeed, I'm sure you will prove very useful to me.

If this kiss lasts any longer it will lose its charm, its sweetness.  I just know it.  Gently I break away, and your head bends down.  Soon my lips are pressed to your forehead, and there, beneath your bangs, is where I plant a kiss.

Hush now, don't speak.  Gently I kiss down your neck, stopping at the shoulder, and then I caress your back, just wanting to feel you, wanting to believe you really do belong to me.  And you do.  You have gone quiet again.  You are mine.  There is nothing else to say.

So yes, yes, you are mine now, all mine.  But what should I do with you?  I have many ideas; the possibilities are endless.  I could assign you as an enforcer; that way you could bring us the talismans too.  But the more I think about it the more I don't like it.  First of all, it would be much easier to trick you into confessing the secrets of Section 13.  (As a bonus, it would also demonstrate how much power I have over you.)  Second, I want to keep you safe.  You shall never venture anywhere without me, Jackie, love, and even then you won't go far--maybe not even out of the building.  Yes, love, I know.  It's a little scary.  But you'll get used to it.  You'll worship me; you'll love me.  And then you won't ever think of the outside world again.

So no, making you an enforcer is definitely out of the question.  But what *shall* I do with you?  I won't recruit you; and I most certainly will not keep you locked away in a dungeon.  No, not that at all.  Maybe you can be my personal servant.  Yes, now that I think about it, I rather like the idea of you drawing me a bath after a long hard day of making business deals and listening to that blasted demon Shendu whine about his bloody talismans.  Whether I'm jolly or angry, you'll be there.  Always.  You'll take my beatings without complaint and then, once I've calmed down, you'll come over to where I sit on my bed and massage my shoulders and gently ask if I would like something to drink, maybe a cup of tea?

My god.  I don't think I can do that.  It would be positively overwhelming.  Beat you and still expect you to love me is one thing.  But to not fear me?  You would fear me, all right.  You might not show it, for my sake, but deep in your heart when you'd hear the door open and then slam shut again at the end of the day you would be afraid.  Every night you would pray for me to be in a jolly mood.  Should I carry out this idea I think I might go mad.

What, love?  What is it?  What's the matter?  Not comfortable?  Here then, lie back, my arm around your shoulders like so, your head tilted back...

Just now I thought I had seen something in your eyes.  I have seen it before.  I have seen it on the face of every person I have made mine.  I have imagined it on yours for what feels like an eternity.

I thought I saw love.

But that didn't last long.  I only *wanted* to see love.  But no, I did not see love at all.

What I really see is hate.

Hate.  It glitters sharply in your half-open eyes.  Like a knife it pierces my chest; surprise and outrage oozes from the wound like blood.  Don't think about trying that sweet-as-pie routine with me, Chan, I can see it.  Through your unnatural weakness you're doing your best to glare at me, to say to me, "I am not yours."  Well, guess what, Chan, you idiot?  You *will* be!  I am already slipping another syringe into your arm; soon all this will have just been a dream, a distant memory.  Come now, you know I am not satisfied.  You know I want you.

*And I always get what I want.*

See?  And already your concentration is slipping, your face is relaxing, your eyes are closing...

A knock on the door. 

...and your chest rises and falls with the same rhythm as before.

Another knock, this time louder.  "*What is it!*"  I bark finally.

The door opens slightly.  "M-Mr Valmont, sir?"  I recognise the voice to be Finn's.

"Go away,"  I snap at him.  The last person I want to see is one of my imbecile enforcers.

"Mr Valmont,"  he continues, and I roll my eyes.  "Uh, got some bad news.  Captain Black's not giving up.  He's seriously onto us.  Really, we gotta give Chan up, it's--"

"Finn!"  I glare at the door; it closes ever so slightly.  "Don't you EVER tell me what to do.  I will make the decisions around here!  *IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?*"

There was silence.  Then:  "Ye-yes, Mr Valmont.  Sure thing."  And the door shuts completely.

By now my chest is racked with ragged breaths.  Chan, allow me to enlighten you:  Don't you ever get me angry like this again.  I'm telling you, those beatings don't sound so bad now.  You deserve them, every blow.  Maybe I shall use you as a punching bag for whenever I'm upset like this--or even just for fun.

But now, as I gather your limp form into my arms, as I lay you down on the bed and watch as your head sinks into the puffy pillow, I feel my anger receding.  Now, as I look down upon you, upon your innocent sleeping face, I realise I cannot hurt you.  Your skin is too soft, too delicate; it would be a pity to scar it.  No.  I don't want you to fear me, either.  I only want you to love me.  I only want you to share a little of that sweet innocence of yours that I hold so dear with me--just a little, just when I am around you, just as you had when we kissed.  You can make me satisfied.  I hate you because of this; and I almost love you all the same.  But no matter what I want you.  Come now.  No one can resist me; not even you.  You'll see, you won't need anyone but me.  I'll elude Captain Black and keep you all to myself; I'll protect you from that awful, cruel world.  And I'll keep that sweet innocence for myself.

You shall be mine.

~Finite~

What do you think of my first Big V story?  LET ME KNOW, and meanwhile, as Jackie would say,  "'Night-night!"  ::zzzzz, head flops on a pillow::

::pops up from pillow briefly:: Oh yeah!  And kids, just remember this- there's no hope in dope.  Jackie is a perfect example!  And if you want an even better example, check out the Ozzy Osbourne show on MTV!  ::head slams on pillow again::