Chapter 6

Jaime quietly surveyed her surroundings while Michael puttered about, fixing a plate of cheese and crackers and pouring some wine. While she hesitated to eat or drink anything he might offer her now, he seemed to have progressed from one method of drugging her (sneakily, in her drinks) to the more open method of using a needle. She guessed (hoped!) that at least some of her strength might return if she could keep him from drugging her again.

The one-room structure had a kitchenette area even smaller than the one she remembered from the bunker at Edwards, two small (covered) windows, one door to the outside and another door that she assumed (hoped) was for an indoor bathroom. (Was there another window in there? Could it provide an eventual means of escape?) There was a small fireplace on one wall, with a seating area in front of it - and then the bed area, with a writing desk on the wall opposite the foot of the bed. Too elaborate of a set-up to be a mere fishing shack or shanty, not sophisticated or large enough to be a real home; it had to be a vacation cabin. Jaime wondered where the gun was, if she could get to it if she needed it...and if she'd be able to use it. Kill or be killed...

Michael returned to the bed and set the tray on the tiny bedside table. He fluffed the pillows, adding an extra one, and helped her slide up into a sitting position. Jaime noticed that he (very casually) bent over as he perched beside her, seeming to reach for something under the mattress or possibly tucked up in the elastic of the bottom sheet. Then he gazed directly into her eyes and handed Jaime a glass of wine. ''For you, my love,'' he told her. ''A toast - to us.''

They clinked glasses and smiled, Jaime meeting his eyes with her own, trying to pull him in and hiding her revulsion with the best, most radiant smile she could possibly fake. ''My favorite,'' she cooed. ''You've certainly...thought of everything.''

''Only the very best for you,'' he added. ''Just name it and it's yours.''

How about 'freedom'...you creep? she thought in her head. Out loud, not sure that anyone other than Michael could hear her, Jaime kept up her careful charade. ''How about...another kiss?'' If it was what it took to get him to trust her, to not drug her mind into oblivion (or drain the strength from her body) she would kiss him. She would die before she let things go any further than that but to help secure her freedom...she would kiss him.

In the command center, Steve (and the others) were hearing every word. She's baiting him, Steve told himself (trying not to destroy another table). She has to be! He looked to Mark with pain-filled eyes, even as they were still listening. Once again, Mark placed an empathetic hand on Steve's shoulder, to 'ground' him.

''She doesn't mean it,'' he said gently. Mark knew that even if Michael's eventual intent was to brainwash Jaime, it was simply too soon for that to have worked.

''I hope not,'' Steve answered. He knew his wife's tendency to reach out and empathize with people in pain. If Michael could manage to reach that side of her...

''Hear that, Austin?'' Michael taunted. (They could almost hear the sneer in his voice!) ''Your wife has finally realized who she really wants! Come here, Darling - and I'll show you how a real man can treat you!''

Static (and the transmission) ended there. Steve had to force himself not to punch the speaker; right now, it was their only link (however tenuous) to Jaime.

Jaime watched Michael reach down again to a spot on the side of the bed before he drew her into his arms. She had been right; he was starting and stopping transmissions to the speaker (and to Steve) through something hidden on that side of the bed. She would look for it later, when she had the chance - and when she was ready for the next phase of her plan. Right now, she had to concentrate on not shuddering or cringing as she leaned into Michael's embrace. She stared into his eyes, trying to reach his very soul (and wondering if there was any part of the 'old' Michael still in there).

Michael returned her kiss greedily, reveling in his own success. She'd come around so quickly, now that he'd removed Steve Austin from the picture...or at least removed her from Austin's life. He might have had to bring her here through deception and force - but now she was kissing him just the way he remembered! She was finally going to be his...forever! Now that she was realizing her true place, it was time to take things further, to cement their relationship in Jaime's mind so she'd never long for Steve - or for anyone else other than him - ever again. Michael withdrew another needle from his pocket, one he'd prepared while getting out the wine and cheese. Still holding Jaime in his arms, he began kissing her neck. Jaime shivered at the unwanted contact and kept on picturing Steve's face and hearing his words (Stay strong...I love you) to keep herself on track. She was acutely aware of every move Michael made...and she saw the needle as he was preparing to plunge it into her arm.

''You don't need that,'' she whispered, nibbling seductively on his ear lobe to try and convince him.

''I don't,'' Michael agreed. ''But you do.''

''Michael...no...please? I love you...'' Jaime still didn't have enough strength to pull away from him - and was trying to keep up the ruse that she wanted him - so was unable to avoid what happened next. Whatever he gave her burned terribly as he hit the plunger on the syringe...and soon she was forced to give in to the smothering cloud of oblivion.