(Five)

Kimble settled in his Master's safehouse, intent on pleasing the man and ensuring that he would be allowed to remain.

Mary was Creed's Second and a woman. As such, she got lumped with most of Creed's personal maintenance. She wasn't crazy about it, but was well paid so she put up with it. In Kimble she found an eager and willing helper. She taught him how to prepare Victor's coffee just the way he liked it and showed him the foods his Master liked to eat. Kimble was quick and his memory perfect.

He was taught how to clean the apartment and to wash his Master's clothes. The laundry was one of the hardest things for him to deal with, not because the machines were complicated, but because of how his Master's clothes were often ripped and bloody. There was a separate trash bin for ruined items that would be incinerated. He just put it out of his mind as best he could and kept a list of what needed to be replaced.

Kimble didn't leave the apartment. When things were needed, he gave his lists to Mary and she did the shopping. Kimble soon took over all of the various inventories, keeping track of what was in the kitchen and his Master's toiletries and such. In this way, he was taking care of his people just as he had done with Fallen and he did it well. It made things much easier for Mary and she was pleased.

All of this suited Kimble just fine. He had cared for Sheyman in this way and fell back into a familiar routine. The fact was, Sheyman had been the love by which all others would measured by Kimble. The fact that his responsibilities were the same only reinforced in Kimble's mind that this was where he now belonged.

Kimble got his rewards. Mary showered him with attention in her free time, loving him well. He was her toy, her source of amusement. He would pamper her as he did his Master, massaging her and giving her lots of hands on treatment. She loved to be touched. He would do as she wished and she would kiss him and hold him, mothering him. They would make love and then lay tangled together on her large bed. They talked about silly things other than work or the outside world, things not so serious. Mary had lots of dreams she wished to fulfill and spoke of them - she had long wanted to open a restaurant or a bar, maybe even a whole chain of them. She wanted to ravel more and see the world, most trips she went on were for business only and she seldom got to explore.

Kimble grew to love their discussions because it pleased her and made her shimmer glow so bright with happiness. She was the only woman here and it was hard for her to relate to the guys. She could talk to Kimble about anything and it made him feel important.

When she was feeling frisky, she would play music and they would dance. She loved all kinds of music as he did and loved his company, teaching him the stylized dances of this world. He had missed music dearly and was glad to have it around again. Sabretooth did not have this love for music, or at least not that Kimble saw. If Kimble wanted to dance, he did it with her.

Another thing Mary did for him, was make him higher than a kite. It wasn't just the plasma, she loved to smoke pot. They would smoke and get so silly, giggling away like school girls. She loved to get him high. He would get silly drunk and tell her dirty jokes without cease until she had laughed so hard she couldn't move.

They ate mounds of junk food. He enjoyed so many things but she learned quickly not to give him chocolate. For some reason it troubled him. It made him sad and once he had gone from giddy silliness to an all out crying jag. He had retreated from her to stand in front of the window, opening it and gasping for air as if he couldn't breathe. She had no explanation for this and when she asked he wouldn't say.

He couldn't tell her how the chocolate made him think of Remy. When he was so high, his emotions got away from him and at times he felt the absence of his friend like a horrible aching wound that would never heal. He was happy here in his way, he tried to console himself. He could never go back. 'Shay had done something horrible, he just knew it, something that would stand in the way of his return. He had no desire to remember what it was. That life was behind him now, it didn't matter.

Mary brightened his mood by snapping pictures of him. He was quite taken with her Polaroid camera, the pictures developing like magic captivated him. She took pictures of him often, teasing him into posing for her. He was such a ham.

Kimble loved her dearly, but was well aware of who he truly belonged to. He learned Creed's habits and arranged his life around that of his Master. He brought Creed his paper, his food, his slippers, diving into the role of loyal manservant with zeal and enthusiasm. He was attentive and often anticipated what Sabretooth wanted before he was even asked.

Creed was thrilled. He loved the attention and Kimble's talent with attention to detail. His food was well prepared and varied, and his clothes cleaned and pressed far more regularly than before. He was something of a slob, yet liked his place picked up. Kimble would follow him without complaint, picking up his Master's trail of debris and cleaning his mess without comment. Sabretooth couldn't be happier, it was just like having the girls again.

The major difference was that unlike the women Creed had previously kidnapped, Kimble was not kept naked. He was at first, but his masculinity troubled Creed. The guys in the gang looked at him funny just once and Kimble was promptly dressed. The last thing Victor Creed was, was a faggot and he wasn't going to do anything to change anyone's view on that.

He bought Kimble some nice leather shirts and pants much like his own leisure wear. He took the care to have the shirts made to accommodate Kimble's wings and the pants to fit his legs. There was a tailor in town that catered to mutants and had plenty of nice things in Kimble's size. He didn't bring Kimble there, the pilot never left the house, but Sabretooth was a decent judge of size. The shirts were cut low enough that the leather collar was always visible. That hadn't changed. Sometimes if he was feeling extra kinky, he would clip a dog leash to the collar and lead Kimble around. Kimble endured it with Siskan compliance, eager only to please.

Kimble cooked his Master's meals. Creed had varied tastes and was thrilled Kimble learned quickly. He bought the pilot lots of cookbooks and Kimble made those things he knew Creed liked. He would serve his Master's table and then sit at the side of his chair on the floor. If Creed liked what Kimble had made, he would feed the pilot from his hand. Oh, how Creed liked that. The submission was a turn on and sometimes he'd take the pilot quickly in a rough tumble on the floor. They'd wrestle and fight and Creed always won. He pin Kimble down and they'd fuck like no tomorrow.

Kimble knew no greater bliss. Not since Sheyman had he'd had this level of standing in his Master's house. He ran the household now pretty much and Creed was in his thrall. Kimble was used time and time again, never neglected, never tossed aside. With essentially two owners, he was never bored and had real purpose. He knew now he wouldn't be taken to Jael and he had a home again, a home for real. He had adapted to his new environment as he had before. He had been a caretaker for Sheyman, a trainer to the Clan, Fallen's computerized mechanic and Cameron's protective ShaRain. Of all the choices after Sheyman had died, he was happiest here. He was used frequently and had the complete attention of his Master. For an empathic Siskan, there was no substitute for this.

Leon was a distant memory. Kimble never left the apartment or went to the holding cells so he never saw his old teammate. He could've cared less and never asked about the guy. He had chosen his own path now and wouldn't leave his new Master.

(break)

Sabretooth was bored and it was pissing him off. He sat in his overstuffed office chair, his head held in one hand as he leaned, listening to these two blathering idiots ramble on. Two new clients had come to him today for the usual snatch and grab, a kidnap for hire, but as usual, they wanted to bore him with the details of their stupid cause. The only reason he hadn't booted them out already was because they had offered him an awful lot of money, twice the usual fee. This was a preliminary negotiation, the actual kidnap wouldn't take place for a couple of weeks. Creed's eyes had threatened to close, but a small movement outside the door had caught his attention.

Kimble was there, crouched low on his hands and knees and hovering just outside, too timid to actually come in. The rules had already been beaten into him - "Don't disturb the Master while he is working". Kimble peeked around the corner and met Creed's eyes. He smiled shyly and waved at him playfully.

Before Kimble had come into his life, Victor would have gone off, bellowing madly at any interruption, but today he just didn't care and smiled a little, warmed by Kimble's obvious desire to be near him. Kimble wanted to play, nothing more. He was being very quiet about it, silent, and Creed's guests had no idea he was there. Sabretooth had learned what he had needed to know from these two clowns long ago and tuned them out. He cocked his head slightly when he saw Kimble back away and disappear. He felt oddly disappointed by his departure, lonely now that Kimble had brightened him for a moment and was now gone. The men blathered on.

Sabretooth startled a little when he suddenly sensed Kimble next to him on the floor, hidden by the desk. Creed had never moved, so in control of himself he was. His eyes glanced down ever so slightly and he saw Kimble was naked - Kimble had phased through the wall behind him to enter the room without being detected by Creed's guests. He couldn't phase his clothes and so had left them behind. Victor knew Kimble had powers, he just kept forgetting because Kimble used them so seldom.

Kimble approached him cautiously and carefully lay his head on Sabretooth's massive thigh, wanting only to be near him. Creed shifted casually, moving his head from one hand to the other so he could gently lay his free hand on Kimble's head. Kimble shivered and gave a soft low moan at the caress. He knew Creed's range of hearing was vast and had made the sound so quietly, the two guests had no idea he was even there.

Victor was surprised by Kimble's increasing need to be near him all of the time. It was a sign that Kimble was here actually by choice, not because he was being forced. Sabretooth was no fool, Kimble had started out as his prisoner, now he had become something else. It still amazed him how Kimble would actually desire to be here, here with him. No one had ever stayed this long on their own. Kimble had been loose now for over a month, creeping around the penthouse, learning the boundaries. He took on quick and Creed seldom had to beat him more than once for the same offense.

Victor was also well aware of the effects of Kimble's presence. His ever present howling rage was cooling. At first he thought it was because he was getting off so regularly, but now he wasn't so sure. When he was finished with Kimble, he always felt oddly at peace, not unsatisfied like before. The release was more than just physical, Kimble soothed his mind somehow and Creed was hopelessly addicted now. His rages were fading farther and farther away and taking longer to return. He was so relaxed, he was beginning to feel normal. His attention span was lengthening and he had more patience. He was less destructive in the house and to the people who had come to work for him.

Kimble gently rubbed his cheek against his new Master's thigh and Creed started to pet him gently as if he were a dog. Sabretooth's heart rate slowed and the irritation of being bored slipped away. He could feel the heat of Kimble's skin and knew that Mary had just given him a plasma charge. He felt a tickle of jealousy, knowing that she often used him as well, using it as a tool to benefit them both.

Sabretooth sat quietly now, content to pet Kimble and ignore his guests as he lost himself to a pleasant daydream. He didn't move as the men finished and Mary came to the door to take them away. She saw Creed's half open eyes and mistook his bliss for exhaustion. She dimmed the light and shut the door behind her. It wasn't the first time Victor had fallen asleep in his chair.

When he was alone, Creed glanced down again and saw that Kimble had closed his eyes. His face had taken on an expression of total rapture. He had craved only his Master's loving attention and now had it. Kimble's eyes opened slightly when he realized Creed was looking at him and he breathed oh so softly, "Takes me, Master...please."

Creed shifted as he became instantly aroused and grabbed Kimble's hair, pulling him up.

Quickly now, he had Kimble on the desk, head down and ready. Kimble gave a soft cry of discomfort as he was crushed painfully and Creed relaxed, suddenly not wanting to hurt him. With his anger replaced by contentment, the urge to be violent dissipated immediately. This without Kimble's backwash. Again, something new. He backed off a bit and turned Kimble on his side into a position a little more comfortable and took him slowly, gently, truly making love to him for the first time. He desired only Kimble's enjoyment and was rewarded by the pilot's soft moan of pleasure. It thrilled him like nothing else and Creed was lost.

Kimble was a little stunned at the turn of events but then realized he had been seeing this coming for some time now. Creed was becoming less and less abusive, fine tuning it as it were so that Kimble wasn't being forced so much as toyed with. He was no longer brutalized or truly beaten, only lightly bruised and scratched instead of cut. Kimble had grown to love this more than anything else. A few carefully placed blows, a slap, a scratch in just the right place and he was shivering with ecstacy, backwashing it into Creed and blowing the big man's mind away. The two of them were growing addicted to each other, each satisfying a need in the other.

Of course what neither of them fully realized was this was no mere coincidence. Back on Siska, when Kimble worked with the afflicted, he had used his empathy in a sort of mild healing. He took their pain and blunted the severity of their symptoms. What he was doing now was not different. He was healing Sabretooth's madness in his own way.

Kimble's reward was that he had Creed's attention now whenever he wanted it, something he hadn't had exclusively to himself since Sheyman had died. He had gone looking for another father and found one. He was forgetting who he had been before and those he had left behind, becoming someone else. Kimble had evolved from Cameron's ice cold ShaRain into Creed's child like servant, losing himself in the constant oblivion of a steady plasma high and the lovely repetition of Creed's acceptance and love. He was in heaven, here in this den of violent sadistic killers. He'd found a place where monsters dwelled and he'd been embraced and accepted. This was where he belonged now.

Just this change in positioning was significant to Kimble. He wasn't face down, he could turn his head and look up into Victor's face. The Master was more comfortable with him now, becoming desensitized to his gender. This was the one thing Creed still struggled with despite Kimble's attempts to show him it didn't matter. He was stuck in this skin, but his heart was neither male nor female. He could be whatever Creed wanted. He would bless the day the Master took him while he was on his back. He wanted to feel Victor's body on top of his and run his hands through that silky blonde hair. He wanted to kiss him, feel the hot breath of Creed's passion on his face. The thought of it made him shudder and he let a ripple of his love pour out of him and into Victor's shine.

Creed felt it, he growled and shook as he finished, taking Kimble with him. He shivered and sweated from the heat of his passion and Kimble's glorious power radiated out of every pore. He looked down with loving eyes on the one who had made all of his new found peace possible. He had been in countless hospitals, taken an unknown number of drugs both legal and illegal, but nothing had ever come close to what it felt like when Kimble took his pain. The nightmares that had been almost constant since his memories had been restored were gone, his bad dreams replaced with lovely fantasies of being loved and wanted for real. He was so high now, serene. He almost felt like weeping, but that was something he didn't know if he could ever do.

He reached down to stroke Kimble's face and smiled when Kimble playfully took one of his heavy clawed fingers into his mouth and sucked on it, using his tongue to play with it. Kimble cut his tongue on the claw a little but didn't care. The taste of his own blood in his mouth had become intoxicating. It was better when Creed actually hit him, but this would do for now. He shivered again and Creed caressed him, reaching down to lightly stroke his face.

"Who are you?" Sabretooth asked softly, overcome with a feeling he had experienced so seldom in his life. Love and the joy of it.

"Kimble. Jus' like that. Kimble," he replied, high from the love vibration that was coming into him now, so powerful and sweet. He had come home, he knew this now. He would never leave this place or this man's side without a brutal fight. There was no where else he wanted to be.

(break)

Later that same night, Kimble lay on Sabretooth's bed, stretched out with contentment. His body tingled from a thousand hurts but he had grown so accustomed to the pain, it was like little rapturous feet walking up and down his spine. He was oblivious to the large swelling bruises on his back and legs. He was drowsy now, Mary had fed him right before Creed had ravaged him again and the plasma was healing him as it made him high.

The Master had just come from the shower. He loved a nice hot wash after as good a session as they had just had. It was incredible how Kimble could keep pace with his libido, no one else ever had before. He sat down on the bed next to his servant, the shifting of the mattress from the weight of him tumbling Kimble's body closer. The pilot shivered as Creed caressed him gently with a clawed hand down his back. The claws weren't out far, just enough to break the skin and leave small red trails.

The Lover grumbled with contentment as Creed's love vibration sank into him with its warmth, so very much like Sheyman's from so long ago. He knew it wouldn't be long before Mary would no longer be allowed to love him. Creed was working on that. Once he found a way to power Kimble without using someone else, she would be gone.

They both jumped a little as the phone rang. Creed snarled and snatched at the receiver. "What."

"Hello, Sabretooth. This is Jael. I know you've been enjoying yourself, my friend, but we made a deal. You've had a month to enjoy my pet, but it's time to finish it."

Sabretooth had been expecting this call for a while now and was surprised only by the fact it had taken this long. He wasn't afraid of being found, this number was protected by a satellite security system and was untraceable. "Deal's off."

"I gave you an advance."

"I sent it back," Creed replied testily, his nerves on edge. He actually had sent the money back, something unusual for him, but he wanted Jael off his back. He had known from the beginning that Jael was not to be trifled with.

Jael laughed softly, "I know. How very curious. You know what I want him for. He can't do that cooped up in your penthouse. The money you returned I consider a rental fee. He's mine and I want him. Now."

"Ferget it. You try anything and I'll kill him myself."

"No sharing with you, hmm? Believe me, I understand. There's nothing like fucking a Siskan, there are no words to describe the feeling, their love. They know all the places to touch, to taste. So wonderful how they make us feel. But of course you realize that the backwash is a drug like any other. It's powers will fade in time. He doesn't love you."

Creed shifted uncomfortably, not easy with the idea that Jael seemed to be reading his mind. Kimble had been in his thoughts almost constantly lately. "He ain't comin' back, so just fergit it."

"I'll forget nothing, my friend. Just you remember this. I know you and your ways. If he comes back to me damaged, I'll have my pound of your flesh, that you can count on. There are worse things than death."

"I ain't scared of you," Creed lied, keeping his voice level.

Jael just laughed, not in the east bit fooled. "Perhaps in time, we'll take the measure of one another. In the meantime, are you ready for the Rally?"

"Rally?" Creed stammered in confusion, but then remembered. The Friends of Humanity Rally, it was less than three months away. They had negotiated over it in July, it was now the first of November. Had that much time really passed?

"Yes, my friend. The Rally approaches. Don't tell me you're going to back out of that deal as well?" Jael said with arrogant derision.

"No, no. I'm with ya. I've got all the ordinance ready, just gotta get the team picked out."

"Fine. Fine. Until then, take good care of my boy. You won't have him forever. I always get what's mine, one way or the other."

Creed growled as Jael hung up. Jael was one of the few people who really gave him the creeps. Jael was simply too powerful. Sabretooth looked beside him at Kimble who was almost asleep now, contented from his Master's attention. His feelings towards this creature confused him, in spite of Kimble's appearance, Creed didn't regard him as male, he refused to. That would mean he had become bi-sexual or worse...gay. That was more than his testosterone laden ego could handle.

He knew he was in trouble though. He had been unable to take his pleasure with anyone else for a while now. No one else but this strange artificial being could satisfy him. He had been going out prowling at night, looking for easy women to please him. It was a futile effort. They did nothing for him anymore without the backwash. The bodies of his unsatisfactory lovers were piling up, shredded in his frustration.

He just didn't want to admit he might be falling in love. That was just as impossible as his being gay. Just once he had tried to force himself on another man, just to see if he had in fact turned, but the masculine smell of his victim repulsed him and he found himself holding bloody, jagged rags of flesh in his hands, his sexual desire replaced by the unstoppable urge to kill. Only with Kimble did he now find peace.

No matter how hard he was beaten, Kimble was there to receive his love and affection, returning it just as passionately. The pilot's touch was just as hard or as soft as he wanted it to be without him having to say a word. Kimble just seemed to know what was on his mind and could anticipate his needs. In all things he was the perfect lover.

Kimble was clean, always smelling of the shower or of his own rough loving. Kimble had no scent to confuse him with issues of gender. Creed had girls like Mary that stayed around before, members of his team that he had taken liberties with, but their moodiness disgruntled him before long and the smell of their blood drove him crazy. They didn't stay long, finding his sexual abuse no more tolerable than Mary had. Kimble was different. He was quiet and odorless, staying out of sight until called for. He never nagged at him for attention, just hovered slightly out of range not disturbing him at all.

Even after all this time, Kimble was not allowed full freedom. He was always fully dressed, wearing the same soft brown leather as his Master did. It was loose and comfortable, hiding his masculinity and making Creed more comfortable. He was never allowed to wander through the penthouse without a shirt of some kind, Creed wouldn't stand for it no matter how beautiful Kimble's physique. The only time Creed wanted him bare was in bed.

He also insisted that Kimble's hair be left loose, making him appear more feminine and hiding the long sideburns of his face. Creed would stand by quiet while Kimble brushed his long black hair in strong sensuous strokes, loving the feel of the brush. For some strange reason this ritual aroused Creed like no other and Kimble used it often when he felt Creed foolishly holding back his desire, wrestling with his confusion over silly things like his gender. As far as Kimble was concerned, he didn't have one and told the Master so many times. Kimble had grown to like the feel of the brush as Creed beat him with it, howling as he shuddered with his violent climaxes. Kimble no longer remembered what it was like to have sex without the abuse. In his twisted, plasma induced psychosis, Kimble had come to accept this as real love.

Creed reached out and brushed a lock of Kimble's hair back, whispering his name softly.

Kimble shivered from drowsy arousal and turned his face to look at him. "Whatcha wants...?" Kimble replied soft and easy.

"Nuthin'. Just ta look at ya."

Kimble grunted a soft laugh and smiled. He placed his hand over Creed's and took it to his mouth for a kiss. "Come lay with me."

Creed slid down next to his lover and smiled in the darkness as Kimble's arms embraced him, holding him in a way that no one else had ever wanted to do. Creed closed his eyes and relaxed, comfortable now. Kimble touched him only with love, with the purest devotion, and Creed was lost in it, forever addicted to the backwash. He couldn't get enough of Kimble's love, it was all he desired.