(The following chapter contains explicit content and a very unhappy Jizabel, to say the least. Read with caution.)

"I think that's enough... Jennifer."

Blood flowed in a weak stream between the cobblestones and out of the dark alleyway. A heartbeat slowed, the color faded from her doll-like skin, and her hand fell to her side, her last movements insignificant as the blackness fell over her. Nobody would miss her. No more then they'd missed the countless souls before her. Afterall, they'd never missed Jennifer, they'd never missed Elaine, and he was most certain that nobody missed the man he'd first let his knife slide into, the man father had drug in off the street for some experiment or another.

This was work. He needed a new test subject, it was a clean kill, not a flight of fancy or a moments entertainment. He kneeled beside her, running his finger slowly, and almost whimsically, over the gash he'd left in her beautiful neck.

She was still a rat, no matter how beautiful she was... What where rats? Pathetic rodents scurrying all about londons streets, feasting on garbage, spreading disease? A pest, a blemish on an otherwise beautiful world...? How hypocritical... Of course, aren't all people.

"We're no different... No, we're worse...."

He slid the bloodied scalpel back into his coat pocket, running his hand further down and around the nape of her neck, lifting her head up from the filthy street. Those eyes, although those eyes where now like glass, and as emotionless as a broken doll, the warmth hadn't left her body. It wasn't his. This was how it always was, he only received the dying embers, never a passionate inferno. In twelve hours she'd already be cold... How he longed to slice into her supple flesh, to bring her organs to the surface and hold her warm heart in his hands so soon after it's beating had ceased.

He shuddered, as he ran his hand across her corseted chest, his fingers sliding under the ties that held the front of her dress together, as his other hand reached into his pocket. The noise of shredding fabric broke the silence, shortly followed by the sound of the bloodied scalpel dropping from his hands.

"...No."

...But despite his better judgement his hand was already making its way down her now bare chest. Really, It would only take one cut, one thin slice, and he knew she wasn't that pretty on the inside. Yes, the one thing that made everyone the same.... All the same, deep... down... inside...

"My god, you never cease to amuse me."

A shiver ran down his spine as his hand froze, pulling away from the body. That voice... He really couldn't begin to count the things he hated about that man...

"You really are aroused by that?"

Jizabel turned his head slowly, to face Cassandra as he leaned against the cold bricks at the entrance of the alley. He chuckled unfolding his arms and crossing towards the younger man.

"...I simply can't imagine what you must do when you're all alone with nothing but those organs and lifeless corpses for company... Oh, but don't let me interrupt you, It's plain to see that-"

"What was it that you wished to see me about?"

His words where short, he was not in the mood to play Cassandra's game, he was never in that mood, to be perfectly frank.

"Rather harsh, I would say. I had been looking for you earlier but," he paused, scowling as a rat scuttled by his foot, "...but The Hermit informed me you where out."

He scowled as another rat made a dash down the alley, and into the dark. His frown deepened even more as his eyes came to rest on the young woman's corpse.

"God, how can you live like this..." He remarked with an air of disgust, though more to himself than anyone else.

Jizabel picked the scalpel up from the ground sliding it into his pocket with a shaky hand before standing and brushing the dirt and grime from his coat.

"From now on, I would appreciate if you not follow me out." He turned, to face him, his tone as monotonous as ever. There was still time to get out of this mess of a situation, as long as he remained calm and-

Cassandra's hand firmly gripped Jizabels shoulder, as he leaned in inches from the younger mans ear. Jizabel fought back a shudder as he felt Cassandra's hot breath on his neck.

"Now, now... I just wanted to have a word with you."

Although he was looking away from him, wanting desperately to pull away, he could tell Cassandra had smiled after those words. He could always feel when that smirk spread up his face. His grip on the Doctor tightened.

"...I haven't the time for that. It is crucial that I get that back to the morgue before rigor mortis sets in..."

He frowned inwardly. He didn't have to, what he was doing didn't require that fresh a corpse. Besides, what had he been thinking? An excuse like that wasn't enough to throw Cassandra off. He could work under pressure, he could get out of most situations if he so needed, but this was different...

The older mans rough grip spun Jizabel around, pushing him roughly against the closest wall, the wet, grimy surface of the bricks staining his white coat. A gasp escaped his throat as Cassandra nudged his knee between the younger mans legs, pinning him in a most undignified position. His face flushed, as that devilish grin came over Cassandra's lips, the overwhelming scent of cologne, as he lowered his head and planted several rough kisses on Jizabels neck, clouding his senses.

"It looks to me that you have time, Jizabel," He remarked, as he grinded against him, eliciting a short moan from the doctor. Jizabel... The nerve he had. Nobody called him by his name... Doctor, Death, Any of his countless aliases, but how dare he be as brash as to call him that. Only father had that right, father and...

Cassian.

However, these thoughts where short lived, as Cassandra's lust made itself apparent. He raised his right hand from Jizabels shoulder, brutally gripping the younger mans hair to pull him closer into a rough kiss. Another whiff of cologne, followed by the lingering scent of tobacco, and perhaps a trace of opium. He choked, as the older man pushed his tongue into his mouth. Tobacco? Perhaps he'd imagined that. He winced at the thought, Yes, he had to have imagined that... It was fathers scent, his alone...

Cassandra pulled back from his mouth, using his forefinger to wipe the saliva from his lips in a rather provocative way.

"...and I am correct, am I not?"

Jizabel turned his head away from him, at least to the best of his ability. He hated that mans eyes, and Cassandra knew it. He wouldn't give him that gratification. Receiving no answer, he ran his left hand, for his right was still entwined in Jizabels tresses, down the younger mans body. Jizabel bit his lip, holding back a cry as Cassandra came to stop just at the waste of his trousers.

"Not. Here." Jizabel said, through gritted teeth, as he felt the older man slide his fingers back up to his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly. His words where, at this point, far more a demand than a plea. He closed his eyes tightly, swallowing as Cassandra pushed the white coat down from his shoulders, letting it drop onto the muddy ground, before sliding his cold hands up under his shirt, dancing over every sensitive area. He leaned over, his greasy chocolate hair brushing against Jizabels neck, as his lips lingered beside his ear.

"Don't say a word."

God, how he hated that voice. Cassandra chuckled, though it was barely audible as he gave a quick lick over the younger mans earlobe. Silence fell between them, the cold fall air chilling Jizabels skin, especially where Cassandra had kissed him.

"...Your heart's racing, Jizabel," he remarked, breaking the silence. His comment only causing an involuntary shudder, as the doctors heart began to pound even harder, to a point he felt it could burst any moment. Those cold hands fell again, wandering slowly down his slim waste, leaving goosebumps in their wake until they finally came to rest on his belt, fumbling with the buckle. His blush deepened, a short whimper escaping his pale lips before he attempted to pull away, only to get a foot away from him before being brutally shoved back against the wall, pushing his face against the bricks. He winced, knowing that move had only made the situation worse, as Cassandra tore his shirt off, brushing his long hair aside as he malevolently ran his fingers up and down over Jizabels back, smirking at the scars littering his otherwise perfect skin.

"You like the abuse... Don't you?"

His eyes widened, the question itself stinging, as Cassandra ran his tongue over one of his fresher scars. His body betrayed him, as an half pained, half aroused moan escaped his lips. He cringed, but it was apparent Cassandra has noticed. He laughed, as his hands returned to Jizabels trousers to continue there previous task.

"My, my, You're quite the masochist..."

"...Not here... not... here..." he whimpered. Now it was pleading, however much it pained him to admit it. Why? Not even father could get so much as a whimper out of him, yet Cassandra... Cassandra practically controlled him. Cassian was right. They where both pathetic and disgusting, Cassandra to do the things he did, and himself to let it go on. Cassian was always right, wasn't he...?

"...Don't move."

Jizabel whimpered, as the last of his clothing dropped to the ground.

"...As long as you don't make a fuss, it's not as if anyone will find us..." Cassandra's right hand ran agonizingly slowly up the younger mans inner thigh, finally coming to rest-

"...Hmm... You are aroused? ....That's... interesting."

He digged the fingernails of his left hand into Jizabels back, tearing open several of his newer scars, before pushing him roughly to the ground...

----

Several nights prior

"That was.... Cassandra's room..."

Jizabel backed away, his eyes on the floor as his knee's shook under him, barely able to keep himself standing.

"...Yes...." He gave a nervous glance to his subordinate, if not for a second, before lowering his gaze back to the floor. He could hear Cassian breathing, hear him take several cautious steps closer. He raised his hand to his mouth, as his last meal rose to his throat, and he made a mad dash back to his own room, stumbling down the hall before regaining abit of composure and making it to his bedroom. He awkwardly tripped over the empty jars and notes strewn on the floor, before falling into the bathroom, barely making it to the basin before heaving up his dinner. He sobbed, weekly holding himself over the sink before gagging up more, his hair already caked with sweat and vomit. Anything was better then Cassandra's taste, anything. He could hear them, ever so faintly, the footsteps making their way to the door. They stopped for a moment, at about the same time he lowered his head, dry heaving over the sink. Then they moved, at a much faster pace, to stand beside him. He didn't need to look up, no, he didn't even want to. A pair of hands reached over to him, pulling his hair up and holding it out of his way, as he continued to gag until blood splattered on the bathroom tiles.

"...How long?" Cassian said, solemnly, before fetching a towel and wiping off his face. He couldn't stand being treated that way, yet he did nothing to push him away. Cassians tone was relatively calm, although it was only his own mask, a mask much stronger then Jizabels.

"How long?" He repeated, a few minutes later. What kind of tone was it? Like a concerned, almost angry, father asking of his daughters liaisons? Or was it the jealously of a suitor...? Neither, no, it was neither...

"It...has been...." As he spoke, his death grip on the sink loosened, and he slid to the floor, his legs practically collapsing beneath him. He choked back a sob, as he leaned against the wall, as far from Cassian as he could get in such a small space. "...S-several days...."

How could that brat see him like this? Too vulnerable, he was the only one who'd ever seen him this vulnerable, this weak and pathetic, Or at least the only one who'd seen him this way and not contributed to his suffering. Another wave of nausea hit him, and he keeled over coughing. The look of concern in Cassians eyes at this point was overwhelming, but Jizabel had seen none of it. He only felt the smaller hands continue to hold his hair up, and rest on his shoulder, he only heard Cassians shushing noises and his own heaving. Silence fell between them, as Jizabel finally stopped gagging, and fell back into Cassians arms, wanting nothing more then to sleep, then to lay enveloped in that warmth forever. Needless to say, he was feeling absolutely terrible to admit such feelings to himself, and Cassian knew he was a wreck to have not shooed him from the room in the first place. Cassian held him close for the next minute, almost petting him, as a weak stream of tears fell from his porcelain face, a few sobs breaking the harsh silence. Cassian bit his lip, his frustration mounting. This had tipped the scale drastically, and what had begun as a minor irritation had turned to a strong hatred. How had this even happened? A month ago he would have killed this doctor, yet... How could the broken creature in his arms possibly be the same demon he'd been assigned to work under? This man was a fallen angel, but he was certainly not Lucifer.

Several droplets fell down Cassians own face, landing on Jizabels shoulder, though he didn't notice. Cassian one bit his lip, he hadn't cried in years and he triggers it? He, however, had much less fear of weakness, at least in this aspect, so he merely bit his lip and blamed his tears on Jizabel. One person cries, everyone does. It is no different than yawning.

Cassian carefully stood, pulling Jizabel up with him, although the height difference did make this somewhat awkward.

"Let's just... Let's get you cleaned up, alright?" Cassian said, reaching his hand out to take Jizabels. He said nothing, did nothing, except to weakly pull his hand free of Cassians.

"...D-doctor?" The 'boy' paused, still receiving no answer...

"Jizabel?" He was more careful that time, and Jizabel could tell it, Cassian rarely addressed him this way.

"...Don't treat me like a child. I'm not," he finally responded, weakly. Cassian reached for his hand once more, this time keeping a tighter grip on it, and not letting him pull away, which he didn't anyway. A small, mellow, smile spread over Cassians face.

"I won't, if you won't." he said, as Jizabel turned to face him again, the young doctor returning the smile in a much frailer matter.

"...Well, let's just get the bile out of your hair."

He nodded weakly in response, As Cassian prepared a bath for his fallen angel...

----

Cassandra groaned, as he finally pulled out of the weaker of the two. Jizabel exhaled silently, his breath showing in the cold air before him as he finally relaxed his hands, although the marks still showed in his palm where his nails had dug in, his fists clenched tightly as Cassandra thrust into him.

A faint dripping sound was the only thing breaking the silence, as his own blood dripped into the alley, the re-opened cuts on his back bleeding profusely. He heard Cassandra shuffle behind him, straightening his own clothing. Wasn't that easier for him? Yes, he could just leave now. Just leave him there to bleed and lay in his own-

"Well? You can get up now?" He remarked, leaning against the wall closest to him, watching him quite intently. He raised his head feebly, glaring daggers at the filth standing beside him.

"Now don't act that way, You enjoyed yourself," he remarked, his face of beaming with a sort of sickened pride, as he pointed to the ground beneath the doctor, "...Afterall, You reached your climax roughly the same time I did..."

He cringed. He already knew that, he didn't have to told, damn, it was the last thing he wanted to be told.

"...You where thinking of your father weren't you? I know you cannot stand me, you had to have been thinking of someone else."

His hand slowly balled into a fist again, with each word that spilled from Gladstones unfiltered mouth. Was that true? He shuddered. Of course it wasn't true, that wasn't how he viewed Father, that wasn't how he viewed anyone.... How could he even pause to think that Cassandra was right? After about a minute of waiting for a response, Cassandra kneeled beside him, jerking his head up by his hair to bring them face to face. Jizabel looking away from him, his steely eyes gazing blankly down the alleyway. Cassandra scowled, pushing him back down against the filthy cobblestone.

"You made quite the mess here Jizabel, you should have been thinking about that when you chose to enjoy yourself..." He smirked, resting his foot on Jizabels head, holding him down. He winced, knowing exactly what Cassandra wanted. Humiliation at it's finest. He took a breath before lowering his tongue to the dirty stones. Cassandra smirked triumphantly, refusing to lift his boot until things where as spotless as he wanted them. He stood above him, arms crossed as he looked down on the little show before him.

"...Remember how I wanted to speak with you earlier?" He didn't expect a response, infact, if he'd gotten one he would have prolonged this little torture session, "...It was regarding your fathers recent orders. It seems we have some work that needs done in the next week, I requested that you accompanied me."

He lifted his foot from the doctor, allowing him to lift his head up again.

"...and?" He muttered, sick, miserable, tired, and at this point just wanting it all the end.

"He was quite fine with that idea, actually, I would go as far to say he supported it. I told him awhile ago that we're quite good together. That I would get much more done with your support.... Besides, Zöe becomes quite the bore after awhile ..."

"...Shut your miserable-"

Jizabel's words where cut off by a sharp pain, waves of agony starting in his head, but almost spreading through his whole body. He winced, realizing there was blood dripping from his forehead and he was now several feet away from his adversary. His head was spinning, and watching Cassandra approach him, jerking him up by the hair once more, he realized that he'd just received a rather hard kick to the head.

"Don't trifle with me, Death, I think you're much more disposable then I am."

We'll see about that.

He let go of him, walking away until he reached the edge of the alley, where he turned, before stepping out.

"I would hurry up and get dressed, before someone comes down this way." With that, he unfolded his arms and strode down the cobbled street.

Several minutes later Jizabel stood, leaning on the closest wall for support as he pulled his coat on over the rest of his clothes. He glanced at the long forgotten body he'd left on the ground. Forget her, he was hardly in a state to bring her back to Delilah now, besides... He gripped the edge of his coat, wrapping it abit tighter around him then usual, feeling extremely vulnerable.

It was best that he return before Cassian started to get suspicious.

"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit,
and the vermin of the world inhabit it,
and its morals aren't worth what a pig could spit...
and it goes by the name of London."

----

Oh. My. God. Do you know how effing hard that was? Very hard... and it wasn't even THAT explicit... Blarg, that was terrible. It was terrible for me, it was terrible for you, your eyes probably burnt out... but it had to be written. Ehh.... Anyway, that was the rating elevation I mentioned, err, the first one. The lyrics are from Sweeny Todd today. I've had a Sweeny Todd rush for the past few days. I listened to both the original cast, the revival cast, and the movie. My favorite right now is the revival, with Patti LuPone and Michael Cerveris. In 2006 I saw them perform it, and even got my poster signed by them. The above lyric is followed by "At the top of the hole sit the privileged few, Making mock of the vermin in the lower zoo, turning beauty to filth and greed..."

Somehow, I feel like those lyrics right there fit Cassandra rather well....Anywho, Shout outs to Sorryll, DarkAngelJudas, Savvi-Sin, xof course im weirdx, and everyone else involved in the CassianxJizabel invasion of FF. Dear God. The stuff we like it starting to outnumber Cain and Riff, at least on the front page.