Darkness Leads the Way

Chapter 7

Fill Me, Free Me

By Chaosdreamer

A Chronicles of Riddick fanfic
Pairing: Slash Riddick/Vaako
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the rights to Pitch Black or Chronicles of Riddick. They belong to David Twohy and Universal Studios. *Pity*
ALSO NOTE: Vaako's first name 'Cylus' comes from silver-sun's awesome Riddick/Vaako fic. The fic impressed me so much that the name stayed in my mind so long without me even noticing.
So then, the first name 'Cylus' is in dedication and owned by silver-sun.
*bows and grovels to silver-sun* I meant no harm by using the name.
As an apology I'll….I'll…
…figure something out! ^__^
Also, the mention of 'Lada' is in dedication to ladooshka, since it had remained in my mind as well without my knowing. ^__^
Warning: Language, harshness. There will be violence and gore, so be warned.
And finally, the NC-17 rating will be in effect. So those too young to be here, scoot your little behinds out. I won't accept any complaints from parents or otherwise saying how I corrupted and damaged their minds.

Author's note: Some of you may or may not know, but I have a livejournal account now. Feel free to drop a message or just check out what wild and crazy things I'm doing. ^___^
Just check out my author's page and you'll find the link.

Author's Note2: PLEASE READ THE VERY END OF THE CHAPTER IN REGARDS TO THE FOLLOWING WIP CHAPTER.

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Despite the nearly bittersweet drama that had taken place several weeks ago, Vaako certainly did not go out of his way to stay within the Lord Marshall's company for any extended period of time.

In his mind the entire incident should have never occurred. The Commander alternated between anger and humiliation, angry with himself for almost falling to pieces in front of the Lord Marshall, humiliated at how he responded at Riddick's touch, like some sort of damn breeder whore.

Necromongers shouldn't be capable of feeling such things. Vaako took the more easy method, blaming his storm of emotions on the lack of going to the purification sessions.

'I've had too much time to think and wallow in dark thoughts. It is unbefitting of my status as a Necromonger, and as a Commander' Vaako growled internally.

But yet he had become so used to be outside the constraints and rigid laws of the purification rituals that the Commander felt little desire for returning to its cold restraints and inflexible commands. Vaako may be willing to follow a man he began to lack respect for, as was the situation with the former Lord Marshall. He could certainly handle working around his fear while in the presence of Lord Riddick. But he would be the first to steal the very breath and life from his own body before he became anything like the mindless sheep that flocked around the last and newest Lord Marshall, practically stretching their necks out to be slaughtered on the spot.

To Vaako's surprise Riddick made no obvious responses towards Vaako's own obvious and silent commands for solitude, the larger man seemingly sensing Vaako's needs for distance and time, maintaining his own distance and silent vigil.

Such actions should have, and under most circumstances, been appreciated, but Vaako only found himself becoming extremely irritated. Whether or not Riddick meant it to appear as such, Vaako was under the impression that he was being treated as an invalid or worse, some sort of mental case where he could not function without constant monitoring. As if they damn well anticipated him falling into a fit if given too much time alone.

It continued to frustrate him how not only the Lord Marshall, but a large enough group of others, treated him like a fragile sculpture, as if he would suddenly break and shatter into numerous pieces.

While the Commander would certainly be the first to admit that he was still not in the best conditions, the treatment he was having to endure was making him an object of whispers and ridicule by the Necromonger elite.

Generally Vaako did not give a damn what others thought of him or his actions, on the battlefield or otherwise. But he was grown tired of being forced to endure such treatments, positive and negative, that he found himself nearly snarling like an enraged and cornered beast whenever someone approached him. His nerves were highly wound and frazzled, stress that had only come from his own internal concerns.

For a short period, the others backed off, seeming to sense his rage and near panic at being cornered by their suffocating presence. Soon, though, their vigil returned, not nearly as stifling, but enough that Vaako's hackles rose enough that it would have made the Hellhounds proud.

Severely disgusted by his own frazzled state and the suffocating amount of coddling he was having to endure, Vaako took it upon his own personal authority to exercise and train in one of the many exercising facilities, thankful finding one that was currently unoccupied save for himself. He disregarded to constant warnings from the medical staff and other soldiers imploring their Commander not to rush himself into a state where he would be forced to return to the hospital for another undetermined period.

Within the vast confines of the facility Vaako began his warm-up, thankful for having left his armor back at his chambers, making it much easier to switch from his common black attire into the looser and more flexible clothing he used for exercising and sparring. Remedial stretches caused him no strain, and Vaako enjoyed the feeling of his muscles loosening and becoming more fluid, thriving in the strength that flooded through his veins.

Performing several standard maneuvers and combination forms, only working up a slight sweat.

When he began the more acrobatic maneuvers, then the shit really hit the fan.

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"Are you really such an idiot, or did you just assume that your skull was thick enough to handle such a thing?" Doctor Quinn asked sourly, almost glaring at the sullen man who was having his head checked from when his skull impacted the ground from an ill-contained maneuver. It ended up with the man losing his sense of balance and footing, thus taking a gainer into the unforgiving floor of the training room.

And a very nasty headache.

Vaako only glared back at the doctor, mouth stubbornly squeezed shut, refusing to reply to the doctor's barbed question.

"Don't waste the effort, Lord Vaako. I've seen meaner expressions those lovely beasts wear that follow the Lord Marshall around." Doctor Quinn said.

"I told you that I am fine." Vaako murmured finally, if not sulkily.

"Ah, so he speaks, I see." The doctor commented. "But really, you should consider how badly your actions affected your fellow soldiers. Can you just imagine their reactions to finding their First Among Commanders knocked unconscious? Just wait until the Lord Marshall finds out."

"He won't." Vaako said gruffly.

"He will." Doctor Quinn replied calmly.

"Don't give him the report."

"Are you insane?! If I do that, I could lose my license as a doctor."

"Just….conveniently displace the document."

"Oh, like that egg on your head and the bandages that make you look like a mummy won't be a big enough of a hint for all to guess what had happened." The doctor snorted.

"Lyle…" Vaako growled the doctor's first name.

"Cylus." Quinn shot right back.

"….Brat."

"That the best you can do?"

"…………"

"Hah. I win." Doctor Quinn grinned, immensely pleased with himself.

'Too much so', Vaako thought privately.

"I don't have time for such childish antics." Vaako muttered, not willing to admit ANY kind of defeat, especially to the insufferably pleased man.

"True. You have to prepare for the party." Quinn agreed.

Party?

"Party? What party?" Vaako demanded.

"Ah, you haven't been listening to the gossip." Quinn noted, nodding solemnly, ignoring the dark glare aimed at the back of his head as he began to clean and replace his instruments back in their appropriate areas. "Apparently the Necromonger elite have been acting a little antsy. So the Lord Marshall has decided to let them peck and snap at one another, in a dignified manner, " Quinn snorted at the last comment, "A party will allow individuals to reestablish their positions, or make or break other ones as well. You know how it is, Lord Vaako. Like a pack of wild hyenas. Acting all nice and civilized when in fact they're just as eager to smile at you just as they would cut your throat."

"And this is significant to me, why…" Vaako asked.

"Well, you will be attending, of course." Quinn raised a hand to cut off any refusals, "As the First Among Commanders, you are obligated to do so. There is no way for you to ignore such a duty."

"Perhaps I could just throw myself down a flight of stairs, then claim a very grievous headache."

"Like that wouldn't be too obvious." Quinn added.

Vaako sighed, practically shaking his entire body, like a large horse would do when being irritated by small flying insects, "If I must." He said finally, with an air of great suffering.

"Good, good." Quinn said amiably, clapping his hands together in approval, "It begins in only two hours. We must get you prepared."

"I will go as I am."

"You most certainly will not. We'll have to dress you in more appropriate attire, something a bit more jovial than those horrid black clothing you been wearing so often. Fortunately with the salve I've applied to your wounds, by the time the party begins, there will only be light bruising visible." Quinn rapped his knuckles lightly on the side of Vaako's head, "Although I fear that your brain may be damaged beyond my repair. But alas, I am merely a doctor, not a miracle worker."

"And you suffer through your fate so well." Vaako commented dryly.

"You have no idea." Quinn sighed, the image of a man in sheer anguish, "Excelled in my practice, yet I can't indulge in a single glass of alcohol because it will impair my judgement if I had to suddenly attend to a patient."

"You do get a little tipsy." Vaako said, letting himself be led by the doctor, who chatted loudly while dragging the younger man behind him, "No one has forgotten what happened to that young soldier."

"Please. I don't drink. I merely sip. Besides, how was I to know that that young man meant that he wanted me to deal with a 'sprain' and not 'castrate'?"

"I've never seen someone run so fast out of the medical ward." Vaako said, idly remembering that ‘entertaining’ incident.

"Hmmph." Quinn grunted, not amused. "And I never did get to use that new scalpel. Such a shame."


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The party was the best only the Necromongers could provide.

Held in the finest and largest chambers and halls, walls adorned with tapestries depicted with fine gold and ebony figures. The various statues and metal had all been polished to perfection, the raised dais mounted by a large throne meant solely for the Lord Marshall's use.

Even several of the soldiers had removed their armor and were dressed in their finest garments in order to attend the party. However, quite a few waved away the offers to attend, opting to maintain their positions and vigil, always faithful to the protection of their Lord Marshall.

Riddick cared very little for neither the very finest rich and lustrous clothing that the men and women wore, nor the brilliantly shining jewelry and perfumed oils that shone across bared skin. His only comfort was the decent lighting in the room that left the entire area partially cloaked, almost as if the edges of the room were painted with shadows.

His eyes unconsciously sought for the First Among Commanders, trying to locate the pale man among the vast room and numerous moving figures. He was occasionally interrupted by those who advanced forward and greeted the Lord Marshall, almost trembling underneath the man's silver glare if they had dared to interrupt his silent and searching gaze. His outfit, the very same style, cut, and colors that he wore every day, gave Riddick the appearance of aloofness. Those that approached him were very cautious in doing so, almost appearing timid to bow their heads to far as if they feared he would suddenly strike at them once their gaze had been turned away.

"What a pleasant look on your face, my lord." A familiar voice teased, cutting through his thoughts.

"Quinn." Riddick grunted, silver eyes focusing on the older man's familiar face, greeted with the familiar patented grin from the man standing near the top of the raised dais. The doctor was dressed in a fine dark blue shirt, sleeves slightly looser along his forearms. His pants were tailored and pressed, black material blending into the dark ankle-high boots. Snow-white hair was combed back to reveal a pleasant face with surprisingly few wrinkles, most lines around his eyes and mouth signs of constant smiles or other pleasant expressions. A slim-fingered hand held a delicate stemmed glass of wine, the doctor lifting it in silent salute to the Lord Marshall before taking a small sip of the amber liquid.

"You look pleased with yourself." Riddick noted. Indeed, the doctor looked like the cat that had swallowed the canary.

"Oh, I am very pleased. You have no idea how hard it is to force Lord Vaako into an attire that is not a deathly black." Quinn said proudly. Turning, the doctor indicated to one of the farthest statues, of one of the past Lord Marshalls, pointing out the figure seeming to try to hide behind the large structure.

Riddick was, if anything, amazed by the sight of Vaako adorned in an outfit colored like ivory, the shirt's sleeves reaching to his wrists, thin bracelets of silver metal shining in the dim lights. Pants of matching luster were not too tight or too loose, easily sliding over calf-high boots. The color only enhanced the luminous quality of his skin, dark hair creating a halo of shadows around his face.

'Beautiful.' Riddick thought in wonder, ensnared by the man.

Quinn laughed softly, "Glad to see you approve."

"You have no idea." Riddick murmured softly.


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Vaako hated it.

He almost wanted to tear the wretched clothes off of him, whether he was in public or not. It made him so antsy to wear such bright colors, the commander not wishing to draw any attention to him, resigned to lurking along the throng of the Necromonger.

How he had allowed Quinn to force him into this situation was beyond his comprehension.

The amount of stares and whispers thrown in his direction did little to calm him. It did not matter to him whether the attention came from his flamboyant attire or from his rare appearance within the 'polite' society.

His body had healed enough that he was almost at his peak of performance, if one didn't happen to notice the pale bruise on his forehead from his disastrous fall earlier that day. While his body's state had improved immensely, his sleep had improved only a little, but thankfully enough to allow him enough rest so that he could function properly throughout the day.

Vaako sighed, from a mixture of exhaustion and frustration, refusing the drink offered by the nearest waiter that passed by, who soon disappearing once again back into the immense crowd.

'It would not be in my best interests to get drunk.' He thought mildly, not wished to find out the hard way what it was like to be under the influence of such a powerful substance.

There were already enough drunken women and men weaving themselves through the crowd, making ridiculous spectacles of themselves. The drunken individuals' partners were forced to control his or her lover, almost forced to physically remove the drinks from their hands.

'The greatest among the Necromongers…drowning in alcohol and gorging themselves like obese pigs. They're the pride of our society.' Vaako noted bitterly.

Vaako almost jumped bodily when a small curvy female suddenly blundered into him, thankfully having no drink in her hands to spill across the front of his clothing. She was noticeably drunk, however, and Vaako had to wrap his arms around her waist to keep her from collapsing into a giggling heap of long wavy blonde hair and loose gold folds upon the floor.

"Lord Vaako! What a pleasure it is to meet your acquaintance!" The woman greeted, glazed eyes obviously barely able to register the face well over two heads above her own.

'I should know her name…Lada…Lana…' Vaako frowned, unable to recognize the woman in his arms that he was certain that he had met before.

Seeming to sense his loss the woman, making no effort to escape the arms hanging loosely around her waist, bowed to the commander, almost teetering and falling once again, "Pleased to meet you in person. I am Lady Lena." She greeted smoothly, most likely having practiced for hours how to appear coy and how to flutter her eyelashes appropriately.

Vaako almost rolled his eyes, suddenly remembering where he had last seen Lena. If he recalled correctly, she had been one of the many women fawning and clustering around his late wife, hoping to win personal favor and allowed the privilege to be seen in public with Dame Vaako, one of the most beautiful, if not the reigning woman, of the Necromonger society.

'Absolutely wonderful. One of my late wife's groupies is attached to me like some sort of parasite.' Vaako almost wanted to slap that sarcastic voice in his head.

At least the situation couldn't possibly get any worse.

His gorge rose in his throat, hot and burning as he felt the woman blatantly rub against his front, pressing ample and firm breasts along his chest and abs, trying to coax some reaction from his uninterested groin.

'Lovely.' Vaako noted sourly.


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There were very few times in his life that Riddick felt any desire to manually strangle a woman.

The urge to do so was burning in his gut so strongly that he didn't know whether to give into such a powerful urge or to throw up from the intensity.

He had not missed the simpering blonde stumble 'accidentally' into Vaako, the woman almost reeling in her drunken stupor. A low snarl of fury hissed through Riddick's teeth at the sight of Vaako's arms coming to wrap around the small woman's waist, not pulling the woman to him, but certainly not pushing her away.

And when she began to rub herself against Vaako like some bitch in heat, Riddick had to physically put his drink down, hand still wrapped around it, unless he was absolutely certain that he could throw it far enough to bash into the side of the woman's skull.

'So there's a chance he's with another woman. I shouldn't be surprised. He's quite the catch. What chance was there for anything between us, especially with our previous history?'

'He could do much better than her, though.' A wave of jealously flooding through him.

'Like you, perhaps?' A voice whispered sardonically in his head.

They did look good together, Riddick had to grudgingly admit. With her rich coloring, in both skin and hair, she practically glowed when pressed along Vaako's pale skin and dark hair, both appearing almost fey-like, skin nearly luminous in the low lighting.

Didn't take much to image the both of them together, except without all those clothes. Both would look absolutely sinful, surrounded by colorful pillows and thick blankets. Whether Vaako took control and pounded the woman into the bed or if she rode him, straddling and fucking him long and hard…

An image flashed in Riddick's mind, Vaako laid out on his back, surrounded by crimson bedding and pillows, being ridden by the tan and gold female, hips rising unconsciously into the velvet heat surrounding him. His hands would be twisted into the sheets, no doubt, Vaako too stubborn to show that he enjoyed being fucked, probably biting his lip to keep from making any sounds of pleasure.

The goblet creaked dangerously within his fierce grip, veins rising underneath his skin.

He should be the only one to make Vaako writhe, beg, and cry out when he finally came.

Riddick knew it wasn't his place to know who or what it was Vaako wanted, let alone needed.

But he would be damned before he let someone go sniffing around the man. Not on his watch.

If any noted the Lord Marshall's sudden absence from his throne, no great ruckus was made. He made sure that no one would be able to spot him unless he wished it so.

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Removing the woman from him was as much of a struggle as one would attempt to pry away a leech, Vaako finally forced to nearly shove her in the direction of a charming and lone male who quickly caught Lady Lena before she toppled to the ground.

The distraction worked and neither of the two noticed him take a sudden leave, both too engrossed in one another, Vaako certainly happy to leave them in that fashion.

Making a hasty escape Vaako edged along the vast crowd of Necromongers, using every ounce of stealth and expertise to avoid being noticed. He almost sighed audibly with relief when he pressed against the tall and vast foot of one of the largest statues, using the large form to shield him from prying eyes, all the while keeping his own eyes on the crowd.

His gaze focused solely on the crowd was most likely the reason why he failed to notice the deep well-hidden alcove. He also failed to notice the large arm and hand that reached out from the deepest recesses of the alcove, only aware of either until a firm gloved hand slapped over his mouth, stifling the sound of surprise that threatened to escape from him.

To his own dismay he was easily disabled and jerked back, feet unable to find purchase as he was smoothly dragged back and spun around, forced to the left, into the most concealing corner of the alcove, where even the most prying eyes could not see whatever was occurring.

Vaako was stunned, staring up in surprise at his assailant, muffled words soon turning angry as he sputtered indignantly at the rough treatment.

Riddick kept one hand to Vaako's mouth, pressing the long line of his body along Vaako's front, the heavy press of Riddick's lean stomach against his causing Vaako to shiver unconsciously in trepidation and something else entirely.

"Enjoying the party?" Riddick asked, silver eyes meeting darker ones.

Vaako, feeling spitefully and righteously indignant at the Lord Marshall's rough handling, responded coolly once the man had removed the hand from his mouth, "Indeed. Food, wine, and of course, the company is certainly entertaining."

"Really?" Riddick asked, tone dropping dangerously lower.

"Not that it's of any interest to you, my Lord." Vaako couldn't help commenting, no matter how hard his internal voice of rational screamed at him in fury.

Riddick hummed thoughtfully, somehow pressing even closer, bending his head so that his mouth just brushed along Vaako's ear, "Quite an impression you made over there with that attractive blonde snuggled all tight in your arms." He remarked idly, tone obviously anything but amused.

If Vaako didn't know any better, he would almost say for certain that the Lord Marshall was sounding a little…jealous.

"Does it bother you, that I was with someone who had…amorous ideas?"

Vaako shouldn't have been surprised to find his head suddenly tilted back by a strong, firm but not painful, grip on his hair. He could just make out the outline of the Lord Marshall's body, the smooth edges of his face, eyes, ears, and mouth, eyes cold burning embers in the infringing shadows.

"Did you enjoy it?" Riddick asked, as if one was wondering about the weather.

Vaako stared back at him, silent, unable or unwilling to answer or meet the man’s hard gaze.

"Come on. What kind of a man doesn’t enjoy a hot woman in his arms, just ready to spread her legs for him?"

"Don’t make it sound so crass!" Vaako hissed.

"What, you don’t want me to speak truthfully?" Riddick asked.

"I rather we not speak of this at all." Vaako retorted.

"Fine then. Change of subject." Riddick agreed easily.

Vaako started when gloved fingertips rose and brushed along the light but still evident bruises along his forehead and temple. "What were you trying to do, bash your brains into jelly?" Riddick asked, carefully testing the bruises, pulling back when Vaako made a small movement away from Riddick’s hands pressing into the sensitive skin.

"It’s fine." Vaako said.

"Not what I asked." Riddick replied right back.

"I know."

"…You know, you can really be such a pain in the ass."

"The feeling is mutual."

"Look at me!" Riddick snarled, hand tightening enough through Vaako's hair that the dark-haired commander knew he was lucky to escape any pain from the action. "Fucking look at me! Do you want this? Do you want me, let alone anything to do with me? I screwed up royally, Vaako, no words can describe what you went through. But don't you dare play games with me, because even you, I would not forgive." The last sentence was said with such coldness and fury that the air around them seemed to still and freeze, growing heavy and difficult in a physical manner to breathe.

Vaako met the larger man's eyes, a mixture of fear, anger, exhaustion, longing, and defeat filling him all at once, like a tightly screwed canister, "What are we doing, Riddick?" He asked.

Met with Riddick's silence Vaako restated his question, "Is all of this worth it, for either of us? Or are we just setting ourselves up to be hurt even more? Whatever it is that's between, or whatever could be between us, it might just be too much. Perhaps I was wrong; we just might end up destroying each other."

"We need to trust each other." Riddick said.

Vaako couldn't help but snort. "Is it so simple?"

"Would be if you wouldn't respond to everything I say with another question." The man pointed out.

Vaako glared at him, "I can already tell that if we were already in a relationship, you would be the one sleeping on the couch for that remark."

Riddick sighed, "You're doing it again."

"What?" Vaako demanded, silently daring the man to point out he had answered the comment with another question.

"Avoiding the subject."

"You're the one that keeps getting led away from the subject at hand. Don't blame me for you low attention-span."

"So now you're being snippy. Fine, then." Riddick spoke calmly.

Vaako should have realized that the Lord Marshall was up to something, the man sliding his hand free from the long dark tendrils of Vaako's hair. It quickly with a snap registered in his mind when, with a firm grip Riddick nearly hauled Vaako off of his feet, leading the man behind him away from the alcove and away from the party. Whoever may have seen either of them were ignored or went unnoticed, Necromongers too slow to get out of the Lord Marshall's path easily pushed with one heavy shoulder.

Vaako's feet barely appeared to touch the ground as Riddick led him with a unbreakable hold on his wrist, Vaako's shirt shining silver from the lighting, burning an even brighter shade when compared to Riddick's darker and pitted gloves and armbands.

"Where are we going?" Vaako demanded.

"Need some privacy." Was all Riddick replied back.

"For what?" Vaako insisted.

"Vaako?"

"What?"

"Shut up."

Refusing to do so Vaako found himself sputtering like a flustered and nerve-racked member of the Lord Marshall's council, nearly spitting curses at the man's back, but all of his words were aptly ignored by the large man who apparently had very selective hearing.

Vaako didn't have to wait long to determine where exactly they were heading, finally recognizing the familiar hallways.

Only a few moments later Riddick almost tossed Vaako into the Lord Marshall's private chambers, taking care to seal and lock the large doors behind him while Vaako regained his equilibrium and breath.

Rounding on the Hellhounds situated throughout the room Riddick growled, "Go. Entertain yourselves." The large beasts rose calmly to their feet, as if they had already been planning to venture out. The larger scarred alpha male shook himself, spikes shaking and creaking, huffing at the others as he lead the troop through to a separate room which conveniently had a small passageway recently constructed for the Hellhounds' personal use. They could venture in and out as they pleased. Better yet a sophisticated monitoring system within the passageway would automatically launch a program whenever any foreign objects, or living beings, other than the Hellhounds wandered or dared the Hellhounds' personal passageway. This program would have it so that unbreakable metal walls would slam down on both sides of the foreign entity, keeping it contained until the Hellhounds passed through, the program automatically recognizing the beasts, sliding open to allow them passage.

Whatever entity, humanoid or otherwise, would be faced with a trap springing up around them. If they were lucky, they would be crushed or starve to death.

If they weren't, they would find the metal walls sliding up to reveal massive teeth and a gaping maw, silver eyes shining as the beasts discovered an alternate source of entertainment.

But back to the subject at hand.

"I demand to know what is going on in that thick skull of yours!" Vaako commanded, face flushed from the impromptu trip to the Lord Marshall's chambers, hair twisted and mussed from such whirlwind activity.

"Things." Riddick answered shortly, leaving it simply at that.

Vaako literally snarled, almost pulling his hair in frustration. "You can be so fucking irritating."

Riddick smirked, "Nicest compliment anyone’s ever given me. Think I’m starting to like you even more."

Refusing to respond Vaako turned bodily away from the other man, crossing his arms indignantly.

A sigh came some distance behind him, "Alright, I’ll tell you just so I’m not pissing you off beyond any hope of redemption." Finding the light switch to his right, Riddick rested his hand over it, "I need to show you that you can trust me."

Vaako glared at the man, obviously unimpressed by his assurance, "And how exactly do you plan to manage that?" He asked coolly.

Riddick acted instead of answering Vaako's question.

With a flick of his wrist, the light switch was turned, plunging the room into heavy thick darkness.

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Author's Note: I love cliffhangers, don't you? ^_^
In regards to the next chapter, I am working on it.
It's taken quite a bit of time, but the relationship is developing further, and a plot that I hope will be both entertaining and surprising will be revealing in the next chapter.
I have kept this plot secret for several months. Sorry for those who I am in contact with on livejournal who have been curious about what's going on in the future of this fic, but I didn't want to spoil anything. ^__^