A/N: Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday (you can give me a present by reviewing my storyyyyy), happy birthday to me :) Enjoy!

P.S. Yes, the suit is copied from Iron Man, but and I have no claim to it. But come on... how else would you see a dystopian society space suit? Like an actual space suit, or an iron man suit? Yeah, that's what I thought. :P

Chapter 3: Captive

Ben wasn't sure exactly how it happened. One moment, he was thinking that Rex and Trixie could have given him a far better name than Larry, then a stout man walked through the door, whom he instantly recognized from the Outlaw files. He practically blinked and his target was gone.

"Damnit," he hissed, getting up and grabbing his much needed, metal briefcase. He headed quickly for the door, but the bartender stopped him and told him to pay for his drink. Ben was appalled. The nerve of some people! He had a job to do! Aggravated, he threw a twenty down, yelling, "Keep the change!" He made a mental note to bring the man in for further questioning for his obvious affiliation with the criminals... later.

Once outside, he opened his briefcase, and put his hands in the designated areas. There was hissing, buzzing, and whirring as the briefcase transformed itself around his body, forming into Ben's famous "space" suit. It was the latest in police protection technology, and Ben had worn this on many a mission. It saved his life s few times actually. Within sixty seconds, the briefcase was an outfit of armor, equipped with a laser beam and helmet full of oxygen. He flipped his helmet back, seeing as how he didn't need it, then flipped open his watch, which was obviously not a watch, but instead a connection to the AER.

"Found culprit. In pursuit. Won't take long."

Rex's fuzzy voice sounded in a response. "Ten-four, Commander!"

Ben closed his watch, and was on the move instantly. He jumped, grabbing the awning of the saloon, pulled himself up, jumped to the roof, then crouched down, finding his target not too far down the alleyway. He took aim with his laser, then fired. He had intended to hit the crates, but he hadn't intended for the crates to have accumulated a large amount of dust and dirt, nor did he expect the crates to be holding large bags of flour. There was a rough explosion, then foul language uttered from the ground. As the cloud of grime appeared, he heard footsteps running frantically away. He jumped down, rolling forward to soften the landing, then looked around, laser beam at the ready.

"Surrender, Outlaw," he said in his authoritative voice. "I know who you are. This is the Alliance Enforcement Regime. If you come with us and cooperate, things will run much more smoothly. If you resist-"

"You will be punished by the most severe criminal consequences." A woman's voice challenged him from somewhere he couldn't see. "I know the speech, buddy."

Ben whirled around, keeping all of his senses peeled, trying desperately to see his opponent. He demanded, "Show yourself!"

"Well, I reckon I could," the voice sounded again, only this time, it was closer. "But that wouldn't help me none, would it?"

Ben took a stab in the dark, punching into what he hoped was part of the Outlaw's body. Unfortunately, it was a brick wall.

A sympathetic hiss. "Ouch. That one hurt, huh, cowboy?"

Again, he tried to punch at the different direction he heard the voice. Nothing but air.

He heard shuffling, and the young woman giggling. He shot out, this time finally hitting something. The force of his punch was so strong she let out a surprised gasp, and a grunt as she hit the wall he had slammed her into. The flour and dust were beginning to settle and Ben could see a woman's outline. Ben whipped out his laser beam and fired impulsively.

She dodged the shot, and the four after that, one just barely nicking the end of her long, braided ponytail. She had to stop to make sure her hair hadn't been lit on fire, curses dripping from her tongue.

"Jesus, what the hell are you? A god damned space ranger?"

He kept his arm raised, his gun pointed at her. "Cease your resisting, Outlaw. This is your last warning before I use necessary acts of force or violence."

She was in shock. "Like that wasn't violent?"

Taking a gamble, Ben stepped forward. "Hands in the air."

The outlaw stood still, allowing Ben to take a few steps closer. Then a strange look came across her face. "I think... I think I gotta..." By the time Ben realized her hands were slowly moving towards her belt, it was too late. "ACHOO!"

CRACK!

BOOM!

First, the crack of a gunshot sounded loud in Ben's ears, and, as he stumbled back from the force of the bullet hit, he fired off his laser unwillingly, hitting his target. She toppled back as he staggered, looking like a thrown rag doll.

For a split second, Ben was actually scared that he had killed her...

Quick as lightening, she hopped back up, fired her gun again, then dashed off around a corner. The second bullet had hit his arm, causing a slight jarring, but the suit did its job. It felt as though someone had just tried to yank Ben's arm back, and the first bullet merely felt like a strong punch to the ribs. He was sore, but completely unharmed.

He charged after the convict, but, once he turned the corner, was greeted with a fist to the face. A guttural sound escaped his throat, but he was quick to recover. He went in for a punch, but was tripped when she ducked and kicked his legs out from under him. He grabbed at her knees, dragging her down with him, and the two tumbled for a good thirty seconds. They finally hit the side of a building, breaking them apart.

The stubborn offender was up first, but Ben was down for a moment. He had hit his head and was dazed by the sudden pain. He forced himself to stand, staggering, but he was suddenly pulled backwards with a force so strong, it knocked him on his ass once more. He tried getting back up, only to realize that his hands had already been bound. He struggled more, getting to his feet and trying to free himself from the rope that imprisoned him. As soon as one rope was free, another rope was around him. They seemed to be coming from all different directions, and before he knew it, Ben was completely tied, unable to move.

"Well, well, well," came the low voice, breathing heavily. The Outlaw came into view, holding ropes in her hands. "You got one helluva fight in ya, partner." She stepped closer, having him in her hold, her lips breaking into a smug smirk. "Pretty damn impressive for an AER Official."

He glared defiantly at her, still struggling against his bindings. "Unhand me, Outlaw, or I will show no mercy with the power of the Alliance by my side!"

She gave an amused laugh. "Oh, no! I should probably letcha go then so you can fire your fancy ass laser beam at me and finish burning my arm off."

Ben wished he had killed her when he fired his gun. He was just about ready to burst through the ropes, but she stepped forward, causing him to stop. She got close... terribly close... terribly,wonderfully close. He could smell her scent, he could see that her eyes were two different colors of green. He could-

PAIN!

He could feel the pain! Sharp, stinging pain as a needle entered the side of his neck. He dropped to his knees, gasping, trying desperately to hold onto reality. She had poisoned him!

"Wh-what did you-?" He blinked hard a few times, his vision going blurry.

"It's just a little drug to help you sleep," she said calmly. "Your neck might be a little sore when you wake up, but you'll... be... fine..."

Her voice grew quieter, as if she was walking a far distance away. He tried his best to stay awake, he really did, but he shut his eyes, took a deep breath, then felt his body hit the ground with a thud.

He was out cold.

x*x*x*x

When Benjamin came to, he was sitting in a dark room, lit by dim light bulbs that hung by wires from the ceiling. He tried to move, only to realize that he was bound at his ankles, shins, thighs, upper torso, and wrists, with his hands placed in front of him on his lap. Not only was he being held by rope, but by at least three layers of duct tape. He was astounded at how well it held him. He looked at his bindings and realized that he could have gotten up, seeing as how he wasn't actually strapped to the chair in which he was seated, but he wouldn't have been able to get very far at all. His briefcase was nowhere in sight, and his watch had gone missing. What worried him most of all was that he was in clothes that were most definitely not his. He didn't own any plaid button-up shirts, or blue jeans, or old cowboy boots. His suit was nowhere to be seen. So, not only did this Outlaw undress and redress him, but she searched his state-of-the-art security suit very thoroughly to find the emergency escape button.

Ben hated admitting it, but... he was actually a little frightened... and slightly embarrassed... and actually rather furious.

He observed his surroundings, noting that he was underground. There wasn't much in the little hideaway. A few thick, wooden pillars held up the cube of dirt they hid in and the one doorframe nearby. A few barrels of gun powder and wine were lined against the wall, an 1876 Outlaw Revolver sitting atop one. There were some boxes of ammunition for old guns, cans of food lying around, an old mattress on a wooden frame, and in the next room over, he could hear, and smell, someone cooking something.

Just as he turned his head in the direction of the other room, Bazooka Jane entered the frame, towels and opened first aid kit in hand. She was clothed in dark jeans, her notorious cowboy boots, and a black men's wife beater. Her hair was slightly frizzed, and she was still unwashed from their fight earlier, a thin red line running across her right cheek bone. He took immediate notice of her left arm, which was heavily bandaged, but the blood-stained towel in Jane's hands gave away that this particular wound was not an easy clean up.

She looked at him, surprised, then broke out a wide grin.

"Well, slap me silly! I can't believe you're awake already!" She shook her head, continuing, "You AER Officials are tougher than I thought! Oh! Sorry about your fancy space suit thinger, but you can understand why I didn't keep you in it. Wouldn't be very beneficial to me, huh? But I gotcha some clothes from Slink... the bartender? He's always got random threads for strangers in need of 'em and whatnot. Kinda queer, right? But that's who Slink is, I s'pose. Always lookin' out for the needy and such."

Despite her chipper mood, Ben gave her the best, most defiant glare he could muster and said nothing. Jane seemed quite taken aback. "Nothin? Aw, well, that's my fault, seeing as how I was the one who knocked you out... and undressed ya..." Strangely enough, she seemed to slightly blush at this. "Uh... My apologies about the neck, partner, but, in all fairness, you started it. But hey! I gotcha a little bandage for the needle I stuck in you, I cleaned your cuts and whatnot, and I even gotcha an ice pack in the fridge for your shiner! Which is my fault too... Again, my apologies."

Now that he moved his neck some more, Ben did feel the square of gauze she had taped to his small puncture wound. He was astonished at how civil and calm this felon was being, but nevertheless, kept his reserve. She began to hum a small tune as she made her way around the room, putting away the kit and throwing the towel in the trash. She hopped up on one of the barrels, and started to take apart her gun with the intention of cleaning it.

"Don't s'pose you got a real name with those fancy gadgets of yours?" she asked, trying to be casual about it. Ben was determined to stay mute. She glanced at him, seeing his steel reserve, and scowled. "Hey, don't look at me like that! I'm the one who should be hatin' you right now. You tried to kill me." She knitted her brow, thinking. "Hell, I shouldn't have even given you the chance." She turned her gaze towards him again, and Ben was shocked at how different she had become.

Cold... hateful... revolted...

He tried his best to match her intensity, and, after a moment, she heaved a sigh and closed her eyes. She shook her head, taking a few deep breaths. After another minute, she murmured, "Sorry, partner. Sometimes, the past won't let me go." For the life of him, Ben didn't understand what she was apologizing for, or even why she was apologizing. Seeing an opportunity, he decided to say something.

"You might as well kill me, Jane."

The Outlaw stopped what she was doing for a moment, surprised. She looked up at him, eyebrows high, attitude taking a 180 degree turn. "He speaks!" Then a puzzled expression took over her features. "Did you just tell me to kill you?"

A nod.

She wore a bemused expression. "Kill you? Why in the world would I kill you?"

This left the young officer confused as well, and his facade began to fade. "... Because I've sworn an oath to the Alliance, and I won't be revealing any information to you... about anything."

She gave him a look. "Well, yeah, I figured you wouldn't." Noticing his rising confusion, she added, "I figured you wouldn't squeal a word after you shot me in the arm and almost set my hair aflame."

"...Then why did you capture me?"

"Cause you were trying to kill me!" She shook her head and sighed. "Good gravy, are all Alliance cops this strange?" When she didn't get a response, she shrugged her uninjured shoulder and continued to clean her gun. He heard her mumbling to herself, "Kill you. Pfft... Honestly, kill you... If I had wanted to kill you, I would have done it hours ago when you were passed out. I mean, really. Is that what you all think of us?"

It took a moment for Ben to realize that last statement was directed towards him. Like before, he stayed silent. In return, the cowgirl rolled her eyes. "Well, that's a yes. Gosh darnit, no wonder the public is so afraid of us. You and your minions are all out brainwashin' 'em."

Ben's face hardened. "Then what exactly do you plan on doing with me, Jane?"

She paused, something registering in her mind. Then a smirk broke through. "I'm sorry... What's that you keep callin' me?"

For some reason, he felt incredibly stupid when he informed her that her own name was Jane, as in Bazooka Jane. There was another few seconds of silence, and then a snort. Suddenly, the woman burst into laughter.

"AHAHAHAHAHA! They actually took me seriously! BWAHAHAHAHA!" He felt his face burn with embarrassment as she waved her hand, shaking her head, still laughing. "HAHA! You- you actually thought m-my name was pffffft B-Bazooka Jane? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

By that time, Ben had obviously figured out that Bazooka Jane was some sort of alias, and felt incredibly dense for not realizing it sooner. He waited until the woman's laughs subsided, and she wiped some tears from her eyes.

"Well, now, Space Ranger, that's about the funniest thing I ever heard. I haven't laughed like that in ages." She smiled warmly, catching him completely off guard. "Thanks, partner."

Ben was bewildered. Bewildered and enchanted.

He watched her carefully as she inspected the handiwork done on her weapon, put it back together in seconds, loaded it with ammo from her pocket, spun the wheel, then placed it in her holster and hoped off her barrel. She let out a yawn as she stretched, which, Ben noticed, made her outfit hug her body in all the right places. He turned away, disgusted with himself, and willed the heat to drain from his cheeks. She started to hum again, exiting to the other room, and he heard her working on something. He wasn't sure what it was, but it smelled delicious. His stomach betrayed his iron will and began to rumble.

After a few minutes, she re-entered the room, two plates of white, steaming grub with buttered bread on the side in one hand, two mugs of hot liquid in the other. He noted that the plates were cracked and the designs faded, and the mugs were slightly dirty with chips on the rim. She set them down on a barrel, then dragged one over to it was sitting right in front of him. Then she placed a plate and mug on said barrel, leaving one of each for herself, took her seat on another barrel, and said, "Eat up!"

All he could do was stare. From the plate of... well, whatever it was, to the cup of liquid, then up to the Outlaw. She saw his staring and rolled her eyes.

"Alright, lookit," she said sternly. "I'm takin' you to the Sheriff, see? And that's a three days ride from here. The way I see it, you can do one of two things. One, be the prideful space cowboy you are, don't eat or drink, then pass out and die in the middle of the desert, for no good reason. Now, not only is that a lame way to die, but it's also easily preventable, seeing as how I am offering you food and drink, and will continue to offer it to you throughout the trip. OR, the second option, you can eat and drink and be conscious when I take you to the Sheriff. If you're thinking that he's going to kill you anyway, I'm tellin' you right now, he ain't that kinda person, so you're chances of survival are pretty damn good right now." She then shrugged her shoulders. "BUT that's all up to you. I'm not going to see you as a weaker person of whatever if you eat my food. It's kinda what normal, healthy individuals do. So just eat it, ok?"

He hated admitting it, but she was right. Hesitantly, he looked at the pile of food. "... What is it?"

The Outlaw smiled proudly. "Old family recipe. Mac n' Cheese! I didn't make the shells, but I made the sauce, and that's what makes it good. You'll see if you try it." She leaned in and lowered her voice some. "I even stole real milk from an express train headed to the city!"

Ben took the fork that was given to him, which was also dirty, and, for a split second, contemplated using it as a weapon. Maybe it was the mysterious Outlaw, or maybe it was his hunger, or maybe it was because he had seen this woman pull out a gun, aim, and fire, all within the span of .10 seconds... but Ben decided against the thought of attack, and instead piled some food into his mouth.

Seeing the look on his face, the Outlaw grinned. "Told ya so!"

They ate in silence, Ben enjoying the taste of real whole milk in the sauce, real butter on the bread, and real hot chocolate in the mug. He was sure this wasn't the only thing she had stolen from the previously stated Alliance train, but he didn't care. He hadn't eaten since the previous night, and the meal was actual quite fulfilling. Afterwards, as they were sipping their drinks, the Outlaw spoke.

"Well, it's late, and we need some shut eye before we roll out tomorrow." She paused. "You can stay up all night, thinkin' of ways to escape and whatnot, but I'm tellin' you right now, it'd better if you just sleep and try to escape tomorrow. I mean... you look like hell, partner."

Ben felt like hell. Well, the meal solved much of his problems, but he was still exhausted, bruised, and being held hostage by an Outlaw with an 1876 Revolver. He sighed, resigning himself to agree when he didn't want to... again.

The Outlaw nodded. "Well, go ahead and hobble on over to that bed. There are pillows, but I don't think you'll be needing much blankets. If you do, I'm right over here, by the only exit."

Ooo, she was good.

Ben nodded and was about to awkwardly hop to the bed before he stopped. He looked at the young woman, who was waiting, amusedly, for him to get to bed.

"I won't show you mercy when I escape this merely because you fed me."

She looked at him like he was mentally ill. "Again, you shot me with a laser. I get it, cowboy."

He nodded, almost feeling... well, a little guilty. "What should I call you then?

"What should I call you?" she retorted.

Ben was quiet for a moment. A nickname couldn't hurt when he was banking on getting her real name out of it. "My friends call me Buzz."

The Outlaw made the same surprised face she made before, then slowly smiled. "A nickname, huh? Well... Better than Larry." She nodded her head, as if in approval. "I like it!" She waltzed over to him, and shook his tied hands with fervor. "Name's Jessie! And it's a pleasure to meet ya, Buzz!"

Ben was in awe. This woman was nothing like he expected her to be. She was much more intelligent than he gave her credit for, and also much tougher than he thought she'd be. She was skilled in hand-to-hand combat, and deadly accurate with her weapon. Still, she was somewhat sophisticated in a quirky sort of way, and, dare he say, friendly. Not only was she far more alive and spirited than her picture suggested, but she was also... well, rather pretty.

He made a mental note to be extra careful around her for however long he was her prisoner.