(Two)

The next day, Carol Brinks shivered in her seat, crying from the ropes biting into her wrists. She was strapped to a wooden chair in Creed's loft office. She had been grabbed only that morning, her whole day thrust upside down and she had no clue why she was here. She knew enough to be afraid. The ransom call was late and Sabretooth was really pissed. He was sitting in his large overstuffed chair behind the huge oak desk, his eyes boring into her while his claws slowly shredded the paper blotter.

Sabretooth's claws were a fearsome thing. Most of the time they hung out about a half inch or so, but when he was angry, like he was now, he could extend them out to a full inch. They were brown and wicked looking, curved and deadly like a large eagle's talon. They were sharp as razors and his healing factor kept them in prime condition. He slid his hand out with the claws in, then when he reached the end of the blotter, he slowly slid them out, making sure to catch the light from a small lamp in the corner. Once out, he sunk them into the paper and slowly pulled his hand back, tearing the paper with a slow hiss, like nails on a chalk board. In, out, and in again. Rip, shred, tear. His eyes ice cold while his claws did all the damage.

This whole deal had been one huge exercise in frustration and Sabretooth was deciding how much longer he was going to wait before he killed her just to make himself feel better. She didn't have to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking, it was there on his face for all to see. He snarled and made a move to rise, certainly to kill her, but paused when a slender white hand reached around the chair from behind to gently stroke his face.

"Master?"

Carol looked up to see who had spoken. The voice was soft, feather light, and was pitched to cause the least irritation for the interruption. She was surprised to see a strange white being, winged like an angel, glide smoothly around the chair to face the huge blonde monster who was now suspended awkwardly between sitting and standing, his attention now stolen from her. The newcomer's hair was long and black, flowing loose about its shoulders in an ebony shimmer, catching the light from the same small lamp in the corner. The angel was dressed in loose brown leather, a large black dog collar at its throat, a golden tag glinted there, too small for her to read. At first she thought the angel was a woman from its feminine grace and the ease of how it had manipulated the big man, but then she saw the long sideburns of Kimble's face and realized this was a man.

Creed was easily twice his size, yet this angel showed no sign of fear. He said nothing but touched Victor's face again, looking into his tawny cat's eyes with the tiniest of smiles on his lips. He had given Sabretooth a small sip of his power, just a little pop of blissful calm to draw his attention away from the girl.

Creed returned to his seat in an angry slouch. "Whatcha want, Kim."

"I thought ya might be thirsty."

"Eh?"

Creed looked stupefied as Kimble gently set a bottle of beer in front of him with a frosted glass, a thoughtful gift. Sabretooth was a little disoriented from Kimble's small use of power, these small jolts of bliss were a thing he would never understand, but he craved them so very much. It was a powerful drug and highly addictive.

Kimble cracked the bottle open, but didn't pour it. His eyes glanced briefly at Carol as he worked. He made it look as though he thought she was unimportant, but she couldn't mistake a glimmer there of a warning. He had come here to stop Creed from hurting or killing her. She knew this. She was to be quiet and not cause Creed to be drawn to her.

"I ain't thirsty," Creed grumbled petulantly. He was irritated, but not at the interruption.

"Well, Master...I am," Kimble purred and licked his lips suggestively.

"Heh, heh, heh..." Sabretooth snickered, interested. But he wanted more than just the pleasure of Kimble's mouth, oh yes. He would need more than that to burn off this rage.

Carol jumped in her chair when Creed suddenly whipped the angel around and slammed him down abusively on the desk, face first into the shredded blotter. Kimble landed hard on his elbows and cried out, but didn't resist, not even when one hand came off of him as Victor used it to unbutton his own fly and drop his pants. There was a horrible ripping sound and Kimble's clothes were tossed aside, hopelessly shredded. Creed grabbed a fistful of Kimble's hair and crushed his head down to the desk, growling in the strangest of purrs as he took Kimble forcefully, inching the desk closer to the kidnapped girl in the chair with each passionate thrust.

Kimble whimpered and cried from pain, tears streaming from his face, but he didn't fight, just lay there and let Creed do as he wished. He had worked hard to try and bring down his Master's level of violence in their lovemaking, but knew that this time, his Master was much too angry for this to go nice and easy. It was okay, really. He had grown used to this and was content to stop his Master's rage. Kimble's focus at this time was the girl. It was no different than his saving actions for Leon. He would let his Master's aggression run unchecked and burn itself out. He knew Victor would be calm after and there would be no rinsing of blood from his Master's clothes this night.

Kimble let go with the backwash and smiled behind his tears when he felt Victor shudder from it and slow his pace. He was held down with heavy clawed hands, but the stroke of his Master's body was gentled. Kimble shivered and moaned, whimpering now with pleasure. The combination of pleasure and pain was exquisite, he wouldn't last much longer.

Carol tried to turn her head away, but wasn't able to escape this vision of horrible violence because the way she had been tied. Tears of fear and panic poured from her eyes, giving her some relief from blindness, but she could still hear Kimble's cries of pain. Her biggest fear was that she was going to be next.

Both men cried out simultaneously and then grew quiet.

Carol blinked and watched in confusion as a moment later, Creed gently brushed back Kimble's tangled hair from his face. Kimble's face was wet with tears, but he wore a look of utter bliss and he giggled softly as he was petted, showing his happiness at the caress. Creed stroked the white skin of Kimble's side, cutting him oh so gently across his ribs with his claws, sending small beads of grey blood dripping down to the desk. They shimmered and disappeared like magic, grey and not red like blood at all. Kimble shuddered again and trembled with joy. He was released, but made no quick moves to flee, lingering instead next to his Master and lightly touching Creed's now bare hips with soft, playful fingertips. Carol realized to her horror that this beautiful man, this angel, had actually craved the abuse he'd just received and had gone out of his way to get it.

Kimble helped Victor to dress, not caring that his own clothes lay in ruins on the floor. The only thing on him now were the marks of his possession, his body was scored with scratches and he was sporting the nice new leather dog collar. It had been one of the first things his Master had purchased upon their arrival back in the City. Just for fun, Victor had bought a large tag for it. It said, "My Toy". Kimble was pleased, it was another sign of his being wanted and desired.

Creed growled something low and slowly stroked his thumb over Kimble's lips, his version of a kiss. He let his hands do what his mouth hadn't the courage for, especially when they weren't alone. Kimble shivered from the caress just the same and licked at the finger playfully, seeing that his efforts had not gone to waste. Victor's eyes were now heavy and all of his earlier frustration gone, he even looked to Carol like he was stoned. Kimble gently touched his Master's his face again, a kiss in return, and withdrew as silently as he had come, glancing back at Carol once and nodding just slightly.

Carol closed her eyes and sobbed quietly. She was in her late teens and still a virgin, but she had no doubt about what she had just witnessed. The angel had come and stopped the monster from killing her, banishing the beast willingly. He had sensed how close Creed was to murder and had intervened on her behalf, doing something he would have done anyway, but choosing now as his time to benefit her.

Sabretooth sat back in his chair, relaxed now and comfortable, his desire for killing obliterated and forgotten. He reached for the bottle of beer which was amazingly still standing, and poured it into the glass. His action with Kimble had been so violent and swift, the glass was still frosty from the freezer in which Kimble had chilled it.

When the phone rang, he reached for it without his usual roughness and spoke calmly. The money would be paid and she would be freed. She put her head down and sobbed, grateful. When she was taken out, she looked for the winged man, but she never saw him again.

(break)

The next day, Gambit read the police report Seth had given him, shaking his head in disbelief. The young Siskan had found it on SHIELD's large mainframe. They weren't the only ones looking for Sabretooth, SHIELD had several agents tracking Victor Creed at any given time. Someone there had learned about Carol Brinks' kidnapping and that Sabretooth had been paid to do it. Seth stumbled across the report that had been filed about it and sent it up to Gambit and Logan at once.

Seth had been quite busy processing the materials Wolverine and Gambit had gathered from Creed's penthouse. Mary's credit card came up through a hack on the SHIELD computer as well. She was Mary Green but also had several aliases. Using those aliases, Seth was able to track Creed up to Maine. He didn't have the location of the cabin, he had only the town where she had used one of her cards to buy food and some clothing. Charles had dispatched some X-men up there to investigate, but by the time they arrived, Mary had used the same card in Boston. Sabretooth was on the move. They lost track of him and then this police report came up. They now knew Sabretooth had come home to pull a job, now they were waiting to see where Mary went next. So far it had been quiet.

Logan had given Gambit the stack of photos he had found in Mary's drawer. He was grateful to have them, Kimble appeared to be happy and playful in most of them. The one where Kimble looked as though he might be crying was painful to see, however. He wondered what had made Kimble look this way, he had no idea it was the thought of himself being absent from Kimble's life. He prayed it wasn't the result of a beating. Just the thought of Sabretooth's abuse was enough to make him flush and shake.

Remy shared some of the Polaroid pictures with Seth. He knew he was trying to fill a void that existed in Seth with empty photos instead of the real thing, but there was nothing else he could do. Seth took the pictures, a smile on his face and some happy tears. He gave his thanks and a nice big squeeze, something Remy had dearly needed.

Gambit read the police report again and rubbed his eyes. He was growing numb with pain to Kimble's new condition. He didn't understand Kimble's behavior in front of Carol Brinks. Last he knew, Kimble had an aversion to violence and didn't handle being physically abused very well. He should have been freaking out and wrecking the place, not writhing in ecstacy. Now, Kimble had been forever changed, corrupted. If he hadn't seen the tape of "Creed's Whore" for himself and heard Leon's story, he never would have believed Carol's interpretation of what she'd seen. Kimble had exchanged himself for her in the path of Creed's wrath, saving her life by doing something he would've done anyway. He fucked his Master's rage away, sparing her. What bothered Remy most was Kimble's getting off on it. It was clear from Carol's description of the intimacy being passed between servant and Master confirmed that Kimble now believed himself possessed and loved in spite of how sick it was. What was happening to his friend and how bad was it going to be before all this was done? Would he even be able to tear Kimble willingly away from Creed?

Remy's heart was filled with an aching sense of loss. It was horrible here in this big house with Kimble gone and it was getting worse every day. He tried to keep himself busy, doing anything offered to him by the Professor to distract himself. He took on a new project as well - Seth.

Seth had settled into his new life as a free man pretty well. He had taken over the upkeep of the Lucky Dragon and his Mistress now that Kimble was gone. He cooked and cleaned so efficiently, the ship was always spotlessly clean and organized. He did this from love, not a sense of duty. Fallen was looking after him with skill and keeping him well sheltered away from anything she thought might harm him. Remy thought she was a bit smothering, but considering what Kimble was going through, he could understand it. But Seth needed more than just his Mistress at times. Gambit taught him games and the wonders of Coke, being sure to check in with him often. They shared a common love for Kimble that Fallen felt difficult to express, Kimble's love had connected the young Siskan to the thief and their friendship would be lasting.

Gambit did try to gently pry more details of his personal life from the young Siskan. While Seth did enjoy his intimacy with Fallen, it was clear he was not empathic as Kimble was. He didn't feel the vibrations, at least not as Gambit described them. For this Remy was thankful, he hoped it would keep Seth from cracking up as Kimble had. If anything, Seth got the reassuring comfort that he would be kept safe when he was in Fallen's arms. He craved her body and her gentle assurances of love and support, much as he liked it when Remy gave him physical affection. He felt loved, not afraid.

Talking to Seth did give Gambit some comfort for Kimble's loss, he wasn't as angry anymore. If anything he was growing more melancholy instead, more subdued. His high sense of laughter still had not returned. It was now close to Christmas. Christmas had always been one of his favorite holidays because he loved to both give and receive presents. This year he felt a great big blank nothing. He did go out and shop a little, but found himself often thinking of Kimble, the Siskan would have loved this holiday, he knew it. Gambit purchased a gift for his lost brother just the same, finding a few items for Seth along the way. Siskans were like little children it seemed to him and very easy to buy for. If it was bright and sparkly with color, it was sure to please.

He grabbed a little something for Molly as well. She, too, was very adept at brightening his spirits and she made him laugh far more easily than most other folks here. He found himself drawn to her because she made him forget his pain, but he was still firm on the matter of their not dating. She didn't insist and they fell into a comfortable routine of TV watching and playing board games, happy just to enjoy each other's company. He found a nice Cashmere sweater and bought it for her, not caring that it was ridiculously expensive. His lack of gifts purchased came from his depression, not a lack of funds.

He was unnaturally melancholy for this time of year and found himself thinking of other things. He was reflecting on his childhood and was again filled with an aching sense of loss. He needed something but wasn't sure what. As he attempted to shop for a holiday he had no interest in, he found his gaze drawn more and more to the mothers out buying gifts with their kids. His eyes tracked the gentle touches of reassurances given and how happily the children received them. Was it the intimacy between mother and child he missed or was it just that it had been ages since he was properly loved and held? He had never known his true mother, hadn't really cared all that much, his Tante had been a good enough substitute.

Tante Mattie. How he missed New Orleans and home. It was on his mind more and more. He hadn't even called there in a while. Kimble had breezed into his life, turning everything upside down. Remy was losing the sense of who he had been before and wasn't sure where he was going anymore. He didn't dare leave, what if Kimble needed him? But it was getting harder and harder to stay. He needed to get away, to remember what it was like to be really happy again.