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Title: Captive
Author:![[info] - personal](https://s.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lilithilien
Fandom/Characters: Alles Was Zählt, Jenny/Marian
Word Count: 600 words
Rating: R maybe?
Summary: Marian circles like a shark, but Jennifer Steinkamp could never be mistaken for innocent prey.
Disclaimer: Property of Sam and Silvia and RTL (but I can dream).
A/N: This pairing should happen. If it doesn't, it's a crime. Kind of involves some kinky stuff, but it's canon-based (~ep680). And it's sappy too, IDEK. And to complicate things further, I tried to get all structural and do these as drabbles, but the final one insisted on being a double-drabble. Anyway, have at it!
Day one goes like this.
She writhes as duct tape binds her to the rickety chair. Marian circles like a shark, but Jennifer Steinkamp could never be mistaken for innocent prey. She's stronger than her size suggests, and more than once her fist connects with his gut. He secures tape to her linen slacks as she threatens with dry-cleaning bills. The arc of her foot molds against his thigh; he notices her fresh pedicure and wonders if she'll surrender before the polish is worn, or if it'll chip as she drags her toenails against the rough floor planks.
He wonders how long before he'll know.
The next morning she curses his ear off.
"You can't keep me here. When my family finds us, they'll make your Turkish prison look like a day spa."
Marian calmly nibbles a strawberry. "No one knows you're missing. We could be here for days. Weeks, even."
He picks another fruit from the bowl. He never used to associate strawberries with cruelty. But now, with her eyes wide, desperate, he knows them as an instrument of torture. He stands over her, close enough that she can smell the berry's cloying sweetness.
"Where's the letter, Jennifer?"
"Fuck you, asshole!"
She curses as a drop of juice spills onto her lap.
That afternoon she refuses to talk to him.
Her throat must be hoarse, after all yesterday's curses, and the silence is a relief.
He reads books pilfered from her bag. In a few hours he's learned more about Stockholm Syndrome than he ever cared to know. "You might want to try Crime and Punishment sometime."
Mussed as she might look after three days unshowered, her chin still betrays the Steinkamp conceit, lifting as she stares out the window. The forest stretches around for miles in every direction; she must know by now that no one is coming for her.
"You could end this, you know."
She says nothing.
The next morning she tries tears.
They almost work on him. She's practiced them for years, after all, her delicate sorrows that have melted scores of men. Even knowing this, Marian feels a pang of remorse.
"This is ridiculous, Jenny. Just tell me where it is."
"There's a loose brick in the fireplace, it's under there."
He glares, tempted to break out in angry Turkish. "I'm not falling for that again. The lake's too cold to wash off more soot."
"It's the truth this time! Only ... it's in chimney up on the roof."
He looks at her like she's crazy. She smiles like she is.
That afternoon she finally cracks.
It happens as he's checking her bindings. He's close enough that her musk explodes in his senses, not unpleasant but heady, like new-mown grass. He leans closer, wanting more; she reciprocates, tilting the rickety chair on two legs as she slides nearer. Her lips brush against his cheek soft as a breeze.
Marian steps back, frowning despite his fingers caressing the residue of her kiss.
"Stockholm Syndrome, that's all it is."
"You really are such an idiot." She jerks her head in the direction of the camp bed. "There. Under the mattress."
Dubious, he lifts the thin bedding, blinking when he sees there really is an envelope there. Although it's addressed to him, he reaches for it as carefully as if it might bite.
"So obvious? After last year, I'm disappointed."
"Well, you didn't find it."
Even tied up, makeup smudged and hair in disarray, Jennifer Steinkamp looks every bit as proud as a canary-eating cat. Her smile grows as he opens the anniversary card, and then kneels beside her.
"I love you, too, schatz. Now, should we get you untied?"
Her smile turns wicked and she runs her toe up the inside of his thigh.
"Maybe not just yet."
~~~ The End ~~~
Author:
lilithilienFandom/Characters: Alles Was Zählt, Jenny/Marian
Word Count: 600 words
Rating: R maybe?
Summary: Marian circles like a shark, but Jennifer Steinkamp could never be mistaken for innocent prey.
Disclaimer: Property of Sam and Silvia and RTL (but I can dream).
A/N: This pairing should happen. If it doesn't, it's a crime. Kind of involves some kinky stuff, but it's canon-based (~ep680). And it's sappy too, IDEK. And to complicate things further, I tried to get all structural and do these as drabbles, but the final one insisted on being a double-drabble. Anyway, have at it!
Day one goes like this.
She writhes as duct tape binds her to the rickety chair. Marian circles like a shark, but Jennifer Steinkamp could never be mistaken for innocent prey. She's stronger than her size suggests, and more than once her fist connects with his gut. He secures tape to her linen slacks as she threatens with dry-cleaning bills. The arc of her foot molds against his thigh; he notices her fresh pedicure and wonders if she'll surrender before the polish is worn, or if it'll chip as she drags her toenails against the rough floor planks.
He wonders how long before he'll know.
The next morning she curses his ear off.
"You can't keep me here. When my family finds us, they'll make your Turkish prison look like a day spa."
Marian calmly nibbles a strawberry. "No one knows you're missing. We could be here for days. Weeks, even."
He picks another fruit from the bowl. He never used to associate strawberries with cruelty. But now, with her eyes wide, desperate, he knows them as an instrument of torture. He stands over her, close enough that she can smell the berry's cloying sweetness.
"Where's the letter, Jennifer?"
"Fuck you, asshole!"
She curses as a drop of juice spills onto her lap.
That afternoon she refuses to talk to him.
Her throat must be hoarse, after all yesterday's curses, and the silence is a relief.
He reads books pilfered from her bag. In a few hours he's learned more about Stockholm Syndrome than he ever cared to know. "You might want to try Crime and Punishment sometime."
Mussed as she might look after three days unshowered, her chin still betrays the Steinkamp conceit, lifting as she stares out the window. The forest stretches around for miles in every direction; she must know by now that no one is coming for her.
"You could end this, you know."
She says nothing.
The next morning she tries tears.
They almost work on him. She's practiced them for years, after all, her delicate sorrows that have melted scores of men. Even knowing this, Marian feels a pang of remorse.
"This is ridiculous, Jenny. Just tell me where it is."
"There's a loose brick in the fireplace, it's under there."
He glares, tempted to break out in angry Turkish. "I'm not falling for that again. The lake's too cold to wash off more soot."
"It's the truth this time! Only ... it's in chimney up on the roof."
He looks at her like she's crazy. She smiles like she is.
That afternoon she finally cracks.
It happens as he's checking her bindings. He's close enough that her musk explodes in his senses, not unpleasant but heady, like new-mown grass. He leans closer, wanting more; she reciprocates, tilting the rickety chair on two legs as she slides nearer. Her lips brush against his cheek soft as a breeze.
Marian steps back, frowning despite his fingers caressing the residue of her kiss.
"Stockholm Syndrome, that's all it is."
"You really are such an idiot." She jerks her head in the direction of the camp bed. "There. Under the mattress."
Dubious, he lifts the thin bedding, blinking when he sees there really is an envelope there. Although it's addressed to him, he reaches for it as carefully as if it might bite.
"So obvious? After last year, I'm disappointed."
"Well, you didn't find it."
Even tied up, makeup smudged and hair in disarray, Jennifer Steinkamp looks every bit as proud as a canary-eating cat. Her smile grows as he opens the anniversary card, and then kneels beside her.
"I love you, too, schatz. Now, should we get you untied?"
Her smile turns wicked and she runs her toe up the inside of his thigh.
"Maybe not just yet."