I decided, when I got to this chapter, that having Zane be a complete obedient whimp is ridiculous, and there's no reason Valerie should like him if he is, so he comes out a little more in this chapter. He's much better when asserts himself, in my personal opinion. I like their spat. It rather happened by accident. I mean, I didn't intend to have them fight, but they insisted on it.
Anyway, I now am over 200 reviews, which in my opinion is pretty good for the AF fandom. Agi of course... She'll get half a million reviews. Anyway, I'm flattered, though confused as to the sudden appearance of so many random reviewers. Like- people who have never reviewed before are suddenly reviewing... very confusing. Oh well. Thanks.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the things I own. The things I own are the things not owned by Colfer. Colfer owns everything except the things I own. The things Colfer owns are the things I do not own. :) Try that one, all you people who think you're the next Artemis Fowl.
Valerie looked at him for an instant. "Go shower."
With a sigh, Zane slid off the bed, and walked into the next room. Except for that one look— in which she had studied him— it was like she hadn't heard him at all.
It was odd. On the train, she'd shot the porter quickly and professionally. It had hardly bothered her at all. But when she'd started to strangle him when they first met, she'd stopped. It wasn't like they'd had a previous connection. She would have been putting him out of his misery in the end, and he hadn't fought her off, even though he understood what she was doing.
He shook his head, and began undressing. Perhaps he shouldn't try to understand her.
When he came out half an hour later, she was fast asleep, curled up in a tight ball under the covers. He wondered idly, as he got under the covers beside her and turned out the lights, just how far she was going to take their supposed relationship. He wondered how she was going to get the diamond.
Valerie jerked awake at a slight hissing noise, and sat straight up, reaching automatically for a weapon she didn't have.
"Like I told you," chuckled The Tyrant to a short man beside him, as he stepped into the room and flicked on the lights, "she has excellent reflexes, subconscious and conscious. She's probably the most dangerous woman on the planet."
"I am." Valerie fell back beside Zane, who had woken up just enough to make sure nothing was wrong before slipping his arm around her waist and falling back asleep. "Are you a doctor?"
"Yes, I am." The short man approached the bed with respectful caution. "I'm Doctor Hinesburg. American. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too, I suppose, though I don't like doctors. If you can do anything for my hands you'll be certain to receive a very large sum in a few months."
The Tyrant tsked at her. "You still think you can get out, don't you?"
"Of course. I'm very confident in my abilities." Valerie held out her considerably less injured arm for the doctor to examine. "You didn't happen to bring any food with you, did you? Neither of us have eaten anything for several days now."
Zane mumbled his agreement from beside her, and pulled her closer to him, resting his head on her back.
"In a few minutes. Someone's bringing it."
"I can't believe…" Dr. Hinesburg swallowed and shook his head. "How did this happen?"
"A very big explosion."
Slowly, almost afraid to look, he picked up her other hand, and began to unwrap the mass of bandages that almost completely obscured the generic hand shape. "What happened to this hand?"
"It was completely crushed, ripped, broken, and otherwise mauled." Valerie winced slightly as he finished taking off the last of the bandages, and set her hand down on the covers. "If you don't like all the blood and gore, I'm sorry, but it wasn't my option."
Dr. Hinesburg glanced back over his shoulder at The Tyrant for a moment. "I— I think that I'm either going to have to amputate it, or do enormous reconstructive surgery, and I'm not sure that it'll work. Best scenario you can move your wrist, and no part of your hand disappears. I don't think your fingers will ever work again."
"Why shouldn't they?"
Carefully, he picked up her hand again, and examine her mashed fingers. "There's no way to completely repair something so badly injured."
Valerie wriggled her fingers expertly, causing several unpleasant popping and cracking noises. "Why not? They work alright now. I mean— better than could be expected."
"You can move them?" he asked in surprise.
"Of course!"
After a few minutes of more thorough reexamination, he nodded. "If you don't do them anymore injury, I think I'll be able to fix them. You're really lucky though. I don't see how you're still able to…"
"I'm special." Valerie waited patiently for him to re-bandage her hands, and then dropped back. "Thank you for seeing me. When are you hoping to do the surgery?"
The Tyrant rose from a chair. "I think we could do it in one or two days. What do you think, Hinesburg? I can have a few other doctors flown up here by then, and get you a top lab."
"Err, yes. That sounds all right." He nodded uncertainly, and turned to follow The Tyrant out of the room. "Move those hands as little as possible, and whatever you do, don't use them!"
Zane laughed quietly in her ear. "I think he's going to be disappointed." He flipped the pillow, and pulled her closer to him. "Even if you weren't going to do anything, you wouldn't lie around like that."
"How do you know?" Valerie looked at him out of the corner of her eye, and then rolled over to face him. "I'm a good child. Most of the time."
"Seldom is a better word."
She grinned at him, and shook her head. "I'll try to obey at least. I really don't want to lose my hands so soon into my career. I mean— regardless, I'll be legend, but I'd like to be a whole legend."
Zane reached over and turned out the lights again. "Yes. Well, will you? Before you leave?"
"I can't use my hands." Valerie tensed slightly, and began to pull away.
"No," he pulled her back towards him. "Don't do that! Listen to me. I know you can. There are other ways, Madam. You know it. I know it. All I want is an answer."
Valerie rolled over, giving him her back. "Tell me why."
"You know why. Once you've upset things again… I don't want to say anything." Zane ran idle fingers through her hair, twisting it around his hands. "I know I'm not your prime concern."
Valerie elbowed him. "You don't trust me? Didn't I promise you?"
"I trust you, but I don't want to hinder you. It would be better for both of us in the end, and you know it."
"Do you know how much it would hurt?"
"Why? It wasn't so bad before." Zane pulled the covers up to her chin, and wrapped his arms around her, pushing his face into her hair.
Valerie sat up. "Don't Zane. You listen to me now! It would be slow, it would be painful, and it isn't guaranteed to work. Besides— it's a very obvious thing. You could get a lot of internal damage. Possibly a broken neck, which is still no guarantee, in the end."
"You're sure there's no other way?"
"Yes."
Zane let his arms fall down from around her waist. "I'd do it. Think about it while we wait."
The doors hissed again, and Valerie turned as they opened, and one of The Tyrant's bodyguards stepped inside, turning on the lights as he did so. "You're hungry? Breakfast."
Motioning for him to set the tray on the dresser, Valerie turned back to Zane, and studied him a moment. "You think about it too." She nodded her thanks as the bodyguard went out, and pulled the tray onto her lap. "Eat slowly, and don't stuff your face."
Zane gulped down a cup of coffee, and rolled his eyes at her over the rim. "Yes mother."
Valerie looked away quickly, and set her cup down. "You eat. I'm not that hungry."
"What?"
"Nothing." She shook her head and pressed her lips together. "Never mind, Zane. It's not your problem. I'll be fine, I'm just not that hungry right now. I'll eat later."
"No." Zane sat up beside her, suddenly angry. "You stop this! This is ridiculous, Madam! Pick something up and eat it! I don't know what it was, but I apologize, and there is no reason on earth that you should not eat! You haven't eaten in days!"
Valerie shoved the tray at him, pushed back the covers, and swung herself off the bed, heading towards the closet door. "So make me!"
There was a bang as Zane slammed the tray down on the dresser. "Madam!" He swore softly, and rose, catching hold of her, and slamming her heavily into the wall. "You will eat something, if I do have to shovel it down your dainty little throat, do you understand me?"
Valerie pushed him away. "Don't speak to me like that, Zane! I will hurt you."
For a moment, he locked eyes with her. Then he shook his head with a grim smile. "Oh no you won't. I know you won't, Madam. I think you know you won't too."
"Make me," muttered Valerie, and turned to go into the closet.
Before she could respond, and almost before she saw it, Zane's fist smashed into the side of her head, knocking her back against the wall. "Get over on the bed and eat something!"
Valerie stared at him in shock, head throbbing from the force of his blow. She could feel a slight trickle of blood run down her chin from a cut he had reopened on her cheek. Was she really that weak now, or was he really that strong, and had just allowed her to think he wasn't?
"Now."
Either way, she couldn't afford to fight with him right now. She didn't even have the energy to. She dropped her head after a moment, and shuffled over to the bed without looking at him.
She felt his hand in the small of her back for a moment as she sank down on the bed, and then he held out a roll to her. "Eat that." She did. He handed her an apple, and watched her eat that as well. It wasn't until she'd eaten half of everything on the tray that he moved away from her.
"You can go change now, if you like." He nodded towards the closet, and looked away.
Valerie hesitated, and finally rose and went into the closet. After half an hour she came back out in jeans and a t-shirt. Her hands and arms were shaking uncontrollably, all the way up to her shoulders. "They won't stop," she said quietly, in answer to Zane's unspoken question.
He moved over on the bed as she sat down, gently picking up her hand from her lap. "Why not? Why are they shaking?"
"All the buttons on my pajamas." Valerie swallowed. "It was hard because of how he wrapped them."
Zane nodded silently, and pulled her down beside him. "Other than that, are you alright?" He reached out, touching the side of her face, which was turning a deep purple. "Sorry about that."
Valerie shook her head. "You were right. I was being stupid. Forget it. It's not permanent."
"Have you thought about it?"
For a long moment, Valerie lay very still, frowning thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Can I tell you something Zane? Sometimes the hero is the one who survives. Not the one who gives up their lives. Sometimes, it's more difficult to live than to die. Trust me. I know."
"Perhaps. But what if…"
"Hush." Valerie rolled over onto his chest, and locked eyes with him. "Do you trust me?"
Zane studied her. "I don't know. I mean— I don't."
Valerie looked away tiredly, shaking her head. "I swear I won't leave you here, Zane. I'll come back for you. I swear. I don't know how to make you believe me, but I will."
The silence after that dragged on for almost an hour. Then, finally, Zane pulled the covers up over them, and turned out the lights. "Well, regardless of any of that, we need sleep. I can tell you're still exhausted, and you're going to have that surgery soon."
"I'm supposed to, at least," whispered Valerie, closing her eyes. "Who knows? If they did reach an agreement, and The Tyrant doesn't feel like paying for all of that, he might skip it."
"What if he does?"
"Then my future career is probably ruined, because these hands can't take anymore, and they're going to have to."
Surprisingly, this chapter doesn't have much of a cliffy... Sad, isn't it? So what did you all think of their spat?
You who do not review: Your evils will condemn you on the day of judgment. :)
