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(Banner by TouchoftheWind)
Jane knew she should have listened when her mother told her to go into accounting. Accountants never got kidnapped by psychos. But no, she’d wanted to help people, to make a difference, and this was where it got her. Tied to a chair, gagged and blindfolded, and absolutely certain she was going to die in a way that would probably footnote her in the next big serial killer movie.
She shivered a little at the cold, unable to move her feet from the chilly, damp cement, bound as they were to the steel legs of the chair. Somewhere distant, the faint, repetitive dripping of water echoed in what she could only assume was a large space. She jumped when a door banged open and then quickly tried to still her surprise so that it looked like she was asleep. The tattoo of footsteps drew closer and she became unaccountably aware that she was in her pyjamas and that there was a cutesy teddy bear emblazoned on her chest.
“You can’t be serious,” a faintly British voice said. His incredulity might benefit her if she could persuade him to help her somehow.
“Deadly,” another man said and that was the voice she recognised from just before everything went black and she woke up here. She couldn’t help but flinch.
One of them drew closer and pulled off the blindfold and she blinked at the sudden light before taking in the two men before her. They were both handsome, tall and strong, though the one with the large nose seemed slighter, less imposing, than the other. Behind them were two armchairs side by side, far more comfortable than hers, and beyond them was a large, empty warehouse of the kind that was used to dispose of unwanted people in gangster movies.
“There’s a really good explanation for this, right?” the slighter one said with a resigned sigh as he looked at her before cutting a glance to his companion. “Damien?”
“I thought I’d be proactive this time instead of letting everything spiral out of control,” Damien said, drawing closer to the other man and pulling him into a kiss.
“Be proactive?” the other man asked before pulling away and flopping down in one of the chairs.
“You know we’re always better together,” Damien insisted, taking the other chair and holding one of the other man’s hands in his.
“And worse,” the other man said, not yielding in the slightest. Damien smirked.
“Adam,” Damien said, voice low and seductive as he leaned in to nuzzle at the skin behind his ear. “You’re always better when you’re worse.”
Adam tilted his head, giving in, and Jane knew that appealing to him for help wasn’t going to get her anywhere.
“Where does the girl come into it?” Adam asked.
“She’s going to help us.” Damien said.
“I’m not killing her,” Adam told him bluntly, for which she was extremely grateful and she revised her opinion of trying to get him on her side.
“Of course not,” Damien agreed. “She’s a counsellor.”
“A counsellor?” Adam said dubiously, eyebrows raised.
“A couples’ counsellor.”
Jane swallowed convulsively and cleared her throat when Damien removed the gag. She quailed for a moment under the scrutiny, but knew that they would likely kill her when she ceased to be useful.
“Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourselves,” she suggested.
Adam slouched in his chair and lazily met her gaze.
“I’m just a guy,” he said and it had the tone of something he said by rote. ‘Just a guy’s didn’t consort with criminals and kidnappers in abandoned warehouses, but she let that slide for the moment.
“Always so coy,” Damien said, sitting upright in his own chair, like a king administrating his kingdom from his throne. Adam shrugged, unperturbed, but Jane could see that it was likely a pattern with them. Damien pushing and Adam withdrawing.
“How did you two meet?” she asked, hopefully side-tracking any argument that might get started. She couldn’t help but agree with Damien, letting things spiral wasn’t going to do them any good. Or herself.
Slowly, carefully, she began twisting her wrists, trying to work her way out of the ropes securing her hands together and to the chair.
“We had interests in common,” Damien said vaguely, but he barely looked at Jane, his entire focus was on Adam. Jane wondered if she should push further, but was a little relieved they were keeping secrets from her. There was no reason to keep secrets from a dead woman.
“We found each other at a particularly low point in both our lives and discovered we were united in purpose,” Adam said, equally vague.
“What purpose was that?”
“Justice,” Damien said with satisfaction.
“Vengeance,” Adam corrected, mouth curling faintly in distaste. Jane reaffirmed her mental note to appeal to him for her freedom at the first opportunity.
“That is your area of expertise,” Damien said, smirking at him. Jane wondered how many potential verbal mines lay between the two.
“But not my only expertise.”
“You always were distracted by new things.”
“My interests are varied,” Adam said, dismissive and aloof. “Unlike yours.”
“I get by,” Damien told him. Adam simply raised an eyebrow and Damien frowned, folding his arms across his chest.
“So, you were brought together by a common purpose,” Jane said, ceasing her struggles with the rope when they returned their attention to her. She was sure it wouldn’t be for long, they seemed to naturally gravitate towards each other until everyone else faded away for them. “But what keeps you together?”
“Habit,” Adam said flippantly.
“Lack of alternatives,” Damien shot back. Adam glared. “The only other person who understands me these days is Alastair.”
They both shuddered at the thought and Jane wondered who Alastair was, then decided she was definitely better off not knowing.
“Those reasons might be part of it, but it’s not enough to keep you together,” Jane said, hoping to get them talking again so that she could try to work her way free.
Adam looked at Damien through hooded eyes and Jane wondered at how a relationship between the two men worked when they refused to show any weakness to each other. She was used to clients being reticent and emotionally withdrawn, but she wasn’t used to not being able to send them home after a session with something to stew on for a week before seeing her again.
“Why don’t you tell me something you appreciate about each other?” she suggested.
The two men looked at each other for a long moment before Adam rolled his eyes.
“Damien is brilliant; he’s intelligent and charismatic.”
Adam’s tone was bored, but his eyes were bright with emotion. Damien seemed to pick up on that, too, since he smiled faintly.
“Adam is everything.”
Adam looked surprised for a moment, then smiled warmly back. For the first time, he actually looked engaged in the process.
“Damien,” he said softly.
“I came back for you,” Damien told him.
“I let you go,” Adam said.
“I know.”
Jane didn’t know the context of that, but somehow Adam letting him go was a good thing. She’d have to explore that later, when they were willing to be open.
“You were separated?” she asked instead.
“For a while,” Damien said blandly.
“What brought you back together?”
“He kidnapped me, threatened my life and then coerced me into committing illegal acts, not least of which was attempting to kill a friend,” Adam said like it wasn’t anything important, like it happened every day. Jane wondered if he was suffering Stockholm syndrome.
“As if you’d ever really go after MacLeod. And you orchestrated my downfall. Again.”
Perhaps not then.
“Then you came back and stalked me.”
Adam looked faintly pleased at that and Jane decided that it would be useless appealing to him since he was clearly as crazy as Damien. If it was Stockholm syndrome, it was so far gone she’d never be able to reach him.
“We’re bound together,” Damien said.
“For better or worse,” Adam agreed. He didn’t seem unhappy at the prospect.
“Let’s try something a little different,” Jane suggested, since they seemed to be agreeable at the moment. “What do you think the other wants most?”
“Control,” Adam said immediately.
“Independence,” Damien said a fraction of a moment later.
That, Jane decided, explained a lot. Especially when neither disagreed with that assessment.
“Adam, how do you feel when Damien tries to control you?”
“Trapped,” he said, hands tightly gripping the arms of the chair, tense just at the thought of it. If Damien was willing to kidnap someone, to kidnap Adam himself, Jane wondered what else he might have resorted to to keep Adam in line.
“And Damien, how do you feel when Adam exerts his independence from you?” she asked.
“Frustrated.”
He folded his arms across his chest, glaring faintly at nothing in particular.
This, she decided, was the core of the issue.
“So, when you feel trapped, your reaction is to...?”
“Run away,” Damien answered for him, tone layered with old bitterness. Adam shrugged and then nodded.
“And when you feel frustrated, your reaction is to...?”
“Take extreme measures,” Adam said. Damien nodded his agreement, not even bothering to look contrite. Jane really didn’t need to know what extreme measures constituted.
“And when you have arguments, how do you resolve them?”
They looked at each other and grinned wickedly.
“Sex,” Damien answered. She sighed.
“Anything else?” she asked.
“Trying to kill each other?” Damien offered. If she could have, she would have pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Have you tried talking to each other?” she asked slowly. “Letting each other know when you need each other or when you need space?”
They both remained silent at that. This had to be the unhealthiest relationship she’d ever seen, but fascinating in its own way.
“Alright, Adam, what would you like Damien to do the next time you’re feeling trapped?”
Adam looked critically at Damien, likely judging what exactly he should say and what Damien’s reaction would be.
“Not try to kidnap and threaten to kill me?” Adam offered dryly.
Damien rolled his eyes.
“I haven’t done that in years.”
That seemed to mollify Adam, though for the life of her Jane couldn’t understand why. Still, if it got her out of this alive, she wasn’t going to pass judgement. At least not verbally.
“What about you, Damien?”
“You could not leave me to rot in a hole in the ground,” he told Adam who smirked, looking pleased with himself. She could only assume, given the rest of the conversation, that he meant that literally. Half the problem, Jane decided, was that they enjoyed pushing each other’s buttons too much. No wonder they solved their problems with sex and violence.
There was no way she could solve their issues in one session. Normally, she’d see them for several months at least, gradually bringing issues to the fore and dealing with them. And she’d be getting paid.
“Those are things you can not do,” Jane said as calmly as she could because, seriously, in what other situation would she have to tell her patients not to kidnap, kill or apparently abandon each other to die. “What about things you can compromise on? A specific night a week you have dates or specific activities you do on your own.”
“Our schedules make that difficult,” Damien said. “And his team.”
“His team?” she asked, imagining all sorts of possibilities, but nothing prepared her for the response of “at the FBI.” That made the whole situation even more twisted and despite herself, Jane found herself intrigued with how they’d reached this point.
“No more than you re-establishing your network in Europe,” Adam said with an impatient roll of his eyes.
“Have you thought about taking a vacation? Spending some time together without the pressures of work?”
Usually, she wouldn’t suggest a couple with their issues spend extended time alone together without too many opportunities to get away from each other to deal with whatever issues they might have. This couple, however, wasn’t like most she’d encountered.
“A vacation?” Damien said, expression turning thoughtful.
“I’ve got the time,” Adam said slowly, looking at Damien who nodded.
“I’ve got a house on a beach,” Damien said, beginning to grin. Adam smiled back.
“I’ve got some books to catch up on.”
Damien leaned over and curled his hand into Adam’s hair, pulling him closer.
“You are not going to spend the whole time reading books,” Damien told him with a growl. Adam smirked.
“You going to persuade me otherwise?”
“No one can persuade you to do anything you don’t want to.”
“You always had more power over me than I liked,” Adam said, a serious edge to his tone, even as his tongue ran over his lower lip.
“If I had any power over you, you wouldn’t drive me nearly so insane,” Damien told him.
Jane was fascinated by the dynamic. Both men were strong – wilful and stubborn – except when it came to the other. Then, they struggled between balancing their desire for each other and their own needs. The balance clearly swayed quite frequently. And that was if they even recognised what it was the other actually needed.
Damien extricated himself and cuts her ties, then dropped a heavy envelope on her lap. Adam followed leisurely, their shoulders brushing as they walked away.
“You’re such a control freak. You realise you didn’t need to kidnap her?” Adam asked Damien. He still didn’t sound all that surprised.
“At least I didn’t kill her.”
“Yes, you’re doing so much better,” Adam said sarcastically.
Jane remained sitting for a little longer so her weak knees didn’t betray her. When she finally opened the envelope, she found more money than she made in a week. Next time, she hoped they'd make an appointment.