Fic, Silk and Steel, Part 51, AU, 18
Jul. 14th, 2010 07:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredbassettTitle : Silk and Steel, Part 51
Authors : fredbassett & munchkinofdoom
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Leek, Lyle, Nick, Stephen, Helen
Rating : 18
Disclaimer : Not ours, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : None
Summary : Leek wonders what the hell is going on, and Helen starts to make herself at home.
Warning : Slave!fic.
A/N : Captain Thomson appears by kind permission of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
deinonychus_1 .
*****
“What the fuck is Thomson playing at?”
Leek watched as Lyle paused in the middle of pacing backwards and forwards across the floor of Leek’s office and glared at him, as though the soldier expected an answer to his question be plucked out of mid-air. Leek shrugged helplessly. He was having a hard job staying still himself, so he had some sympathy with Lyle’s restless tension. He wasn’t sure what game Captain Thomson was playing, but he had a feeling they’d all find out soon enough.
“And what’s that bloody woman doing here?”
That was one question he could answer with reasonable certainty. “Taking over from Cutter, by the look of it. She must have friends in high places.”
“I thought you had friends in high places?”
Leek sighed. “So did I, Lieutenant. But I don’t think that’s something I can rely on anymore. They didn’t do me much good when this place was overrun with vermin, did they? Someone appears intent on throwing all of us to the wolves, me included.”
“For wolves read Section fucking 42?”
“Maybe.” Or maybe not. Leek was damned if he knew.
Lyle came to another abrupt halt and Leek watched as anger and frustration warred for dominance on his face. He put a hand out, resting it on the soldier’s shoulder for a moment. “Calm down, Lyle. We’re going to have to face Thomson again soon enough. I don’t know exactly what game he’s playing, but you can bet your last bullet on the fact that he knows that security footage is going to show something that implicates Ryan, and when it does I can’t afford to have you going off half-cocked. Do you understand me?”
To his surprise, Lyle suddenly dropped to his knees, head bowed. “I can hold my temper, master.”
Leek sighed and laid his hand on Lyle’s dark hair. “Good, because I think you’re going to have to.”
“Ryan is not a fucking traitor!” Lyle looked up and his hazel eyes flashed fire again, but he managed to keep his expression studiously neutral.
“I believe you, Lyle. The real question is going to be how far Lester will put his own neck on the block to save Ryan. If he does, and it goes wrong, Thomson will take us all down.”
The look Lyle gave him was genuinely puzzled. The soldier leaned back on his heels, frowning. “Ryan wears a collar. Lester won’t risk anything for him.”
Leek stared down at him and shook his head. “You’re wrong, Lyle.” Leek’s thin lips quirked into a rueful smile. “And, much as I like having you at my feet, we have work to do, so get up and stop bloody distracting me.”
A flash of humour lightened the soldier’s expression for a moment. “Yes, master. What do you want me to do?”
Several attractive options flitted like fireflies through Leek’s mind, but he contented himself with saying, “Stand behind me in public and look suitably menacing, but whatever you do, keep your bloody mouth shut, no matter what happens.”
Lyle nodded, and then came to his feet in one fluid movement, game face firmly in place. Theirs was an unlikely alliance, Leek would be the first to admit it, and he knew full well the soldier had no reason to owe him any loyalty, but since they’d fought side by side during the siege of the ARC, Leek had grown used to relying on the hazel-eyed lieutenant, in much the same was as Lester obviously did on Ryan. He just hoped it wasn’t going to land him in anything approaching a same predicament.
He glanced at the clock. Half an hour until Temple had been ordered to report to Lester’s office with the footage from the cameras. Just enough time to see what havoc Cutter’s ex-wife was managing to wreak in the rest of the building. Perhaps a quick tour of the ARC was in order.
They caught up with her in one of the science laboratories on the ground floor. It appeared that Annie Morris had been called away to deal with the chaos Thomson had managed to cause in her section, leaving various technicians in tears as each of them had been hauled in for questioning, one after another. As far as Leek could tell, all Thomson was actually contriving to do was spread fear and confusion, probably to cover his real objectives.
Amidst it all, Helen Cutter prowled, like a sleek and deadly leopard, stalking her prey with style, elegance and utter ruthlessness. Cutter trailed along behind her, looking more harassed than usual, making a half-hearted attempt to show her around the building while attempting, with a woeful lack of success, to cover up the blanks in his own knowledge. Or maybe it was his memory that was defective. Oliver Leek still wasn’t sure what he believed on the subject of the Eccentric Academic, as Lester always dubbed him.
The Nick Cutter he’d known originally had worn a hard-edged air like he’d worn his shabby green jackets. It had fitted him. This Cutter was different: softer, in some ways, although he still possessed the same hair-trigger temper. The man had spent several days a while ago attempting – with a signal lack of success – to convince Lester that the timeline, and indeed the whole world, had actually changed. That he, Cutter, had been personally responsible for the entire System of Indenture.
Leek had shrugged his nonsense off, as Lester had done to start with, putting the man’s ravings down to one too many trips back in time. But he’d still kept a close eye on the professor and had spent a fair bit of time reviewing the security tapes, at least the ones he could get to before Temple tampered with them. The more he watched Cutter, the more he’d become convinced that the man himself had changed. For one thing, he no longer took any opportunity to touch up his assistant. Leek knew from Lyle that Stephen Hart had been free of Cutter’s attentions since the day the man claimed that time had been changed. At first, he’d thought that maybe Cutter had simply had other things on his mind, but eventually he’d come to the conclusion that either he was watching a different man, or that the man he knew had inexplicably turned utterly straight overnight.
There had been no more lingering touches, no eyeing up of either Hart or Temple. He’d also changed his attitude to the women. He treated Maitland as more of an equal, deferring on numerous occasions to her knowledge of wild animals, not just treating her as someone else at his beck and call.
If he didn’t know better, Leek would have been very inclined to believe that they really were dealing with a different man. And watching him now simply reinforced that view.
Helen had managed to back Stephen Hart up against a work-surface in one of the labs, standing well inside his personal space and staring with fascination at the slim band of metal surrounding his throat.
“I always knew you would look good in a collar, Stephen,” she purred, extending a finger and running it around the edge of the collar, brushing lightly at the skin of his neck in passing. “Have you missed me?”
Leek spared a brief glance over his shoulder at Lyle and was pleased to note that his bodyguard’s face was studiously impassive, and only a slight tightening of his lips betrayed the fact that he almost certainly wanted to drag Helen Cutter away from his lover and slam her against the opposite wall.
Leek cleared his throat ostentatiously. “Dr Cutter, my name is Oliver Leek, I’m Sir James’ right-hand man. I’ll have an office prepared for you immediately. Perhaps you’d like to give Miss Wickes, Sir James’ secretary, a list of your requirements?”
Helen stared at him as though an insect had suddenly spoken. Leek noted her disdain with a degree of satisfaction. She was welcome to dismiss him as an ineffectual bureaucrat. He’d built a career on being underestimated. He smiled nervously and stared at her breasts. Her disdain intensified, but she took a step towards him, allowing Stephen Hart to slip to one side, unnoticed.
“Thank you, Oliver. I’d like a room next to Nick’s. He and I have an awful lot of catching up to do.” She favoured Nick with a wide smile, which only added to the other man’s discomfiture.
This Nick Cutter was plainly no match for the woman standing in front of him, positively oozing confidence. The man would have to grow a backbone – and fast – if he was going to stand any chance whatsoever of keeping his staff out of her well-manicured claws.
Leek glanced over at the clock on the wall. Temple would be reporting to Lester’s office in the next five minutes.
He bobbed his head in acknowledgement of Helen’s demand and then headed for the door, in time to see Hart disappearing down the corridor in the direction of the atrium. He obviously didn’t have much faith in Cutter’s abilities to stand up to his ex-wife either and was taking the opportunity to get as far away from her as he could.
Leek took a deep breath and followed him. He had a suspicion that things were about to take a severe turn for the worse.
Authors : fredbassett & munchkinofdoom
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Leek, Lyle, Nick, Stephen, Helen
Rating : 18
Disclaimer : Not ours, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : None
Summary : Leek wonders what the hell is going on, and Helen starts to make herself at home.
Warning : Slave!fic.
A/N : Captain Thomson appears by kind permission of
deinonychus_1 . *****
“What the fuck is Thomson playing at?”
Leek watched as Lyle paused in the middle of pacing backwards and forwards across the floor of Leek’s office and glared at him, as though the soldier expected an answer to his question be plucked out of mid-air. Leek shrugged helplessly. He was having a hard job staying still himself, so he had some sympathy with Lyle’s restless tension. He wasn’t sure what game Captain Thomson was playing, but he had a feeling they’d all find out soon enough.
“And what’s that bloody woman doing here?”
That was one question he could answer with reasonable certainty. “Taking over from Cutter, by the look of it. She must have friends in high places.”
“I thought you had friends in high places?”
Leek sighed. “So did I, Lieutenant. But I don’t think that’s something I can rely on anymore. They didn’t do me much good when this place was overrun with vermin, did they? Someone appears intent on throwing all of us to the wolves, me included.”
“For wolves read Section fucking 42?”
“Maybe.” Or maybe not. Leek was damned if he knew.
Lyle came to another abrupt halt and Leek watched as anger and frustration warred for dominance on his face. He put a hand out, resting it on the soldier’s shoulder for a moment. “Calm down, Lyle. We’re going to have to face Thomson again soon enough. I don’t know exactly what game he’s playing, but you can bet your last bullet on the fact that he knows that security footage is going to show something that implicates Ryan, and when it does I can’t afford to have you going off half-cocked. Do you understand me?”
To his surprise, Lyle suddenly dropped to his knees, head bowed. “I can hold my temper, master.”
Leek sighed and laid his hand on Lyle’s dark hair. “Good, because I think you’re going to have to.”
“Ryan is not a fucking traitor!” Lyle looked up and his hazel eyes flashed fire again, but he managed to keep his expression studiously neutral.
“I believe you, Lyle. The real question is going to be how far Lester will put his own neck on the block to save Ryan. If he does, and it goes wrong, Thomson will take us all down.”
The look Lyle gave him was genuinely puzzled. The soldier leaned back on his heels, frowning. “Ryan wears a collar. Lester won’t risk anything for him.”
Leek stared down at him and shook his head. “You’re wrong, Lyle.” Leek’s thin lips quirked into a rueful smile. “And, much as I like having you at my feet, we have work to do, so get up and stop bloody distracting me.”
A flash of humour lightened the soldier’s expression for a moment. “Yes, master. What do you want me to do?”
Several attractive options flitted like fireflies through Leek’s mind, but he contented himself with saying, “Stand behind me in public and look suitably menacing, but whatever you do, keep your bloody mouth shut, no matter what happens.”
Lyle nodded, and then came to his feet in one fluid movement, game face firmly in place. Theirs was an unlikely alliance, Leek would be the first to admit it, and he knew full well the soldier had no reason to owe him any loyalty, but since they’d fought side by side during the siege of the ARC, Leek had grown used to relying on the hazel-eyed lieutenant, in much the same was as Lester obviously did on Ryan. He just hoped it wasn’t going to land him in anything approaching a same predicament.
He glanced at the clock. Half an hour until Temple had been ordered to report to Lester’s office with the footage from the cameras. Just enough time to see what havoc Cutter’s ex-wife was managing to wreak in the rest of the building. Perhaps a quick tour of the ARC was in order.
They caught up with her in one of the science laboratories on the ground floor. It appeared that Annie Morris had been called away to deal with the chaos Thomson had managed to cause in her section, leaving various technicians in tears as each of them had been hauled in for questioning, one after another. As far as Leek could tell, all Thomson was actually contriving to do was spread fear and confusion, probably to cover his real objectives.
Amidst it all, Helen Cutter prowled, like a sleek and deadly leopard, stalking her prey with style, elegance and utter ruthlessness. Cutter trailed along behind her, looking more harassed than usual, making a half-hearted attempt to show her around the building while attempting, with a woeful lack of success, to cover up the blanks in his own knowledge. Or maybe it was his memory that was defective. Oliver Leek still wasn’t sure what he believed on the subject of the Eccentric Academic, as Lester always dubbed him.
The Nick Cutter he’d known originally had worn a hard-edged air like he’d worn his shabby green jackets. It had fitted him. This Cutter was different: softer, in some ways, although he still possessed the same hair-trigger temper. The man had spent several days a while ago attempting – with a signal lack of success – to convince Lester that the timeline, and indeed the whole world, had actually changed. That he, Cutter, had been personally responsible for the entire System of Indenture.
Leek had shrugged his nonsense off, as Lester had done to start with, putting the man’s ravings down to one too many trips back in time. But he’d still kept a close eye on the professor and had spent a fair bit of time reviewing the security tapes, at least the ones he could get to before Temple tampered with them. The more he watched Cutter, the more he’d become convinced that the man himself had changed. For one thing, he no longer took any opportunity to touch up his assistant. Leek knew from Lyle that Stephen Hart had been free of Cutter’s attentions since the day the man claimed that time had been changed. At first, he’d thought that maybe Cutter had simply had other things on his mind, but eventually he’d come to the conclusion that either he was watching a different man, or that the man he knew had inexplicably turned utterly straight overnight.
There had been no more lingering touches, no eyeing up of either Hart or Temple. He’d also changed his attitude to the women. He treated Maitland as more of an equal, deferring on numerous occasions to her knowledge of wild animals, not just treating her as someone else at his beck and call.
If he didn’t know better, Leek would have been very inclined to believe that they really were dealing with a different man. And watching him now simply reinforced that view.
Helen had managed to back Stephen Hart up against a work-surface in one of the labs, standing well inside his personal space and staring with fascination at the slim band of metal surrounding his throat.
“I always knew you would look good in a collar, Stephen,” she purred, extending a finger and running it around the edge of the collar, brushing lightly at the skin of his neck in passing. “Have you missed me?”
Leek spared a brief glance over his shoulder at Lyle and was pleased to note that his bodyguard’s face was studiously impassive, and only a slight tightening of his lips betrayed the fact that he almost certainly wanted to drag Helen Cutter away from his lover and slam her against the opposite wall.
Leek cleared his throat ostentatiously. “Dr Cutter, my name is Oliver Leek, I’m Sir James’ right-hand man. I’ll have an office prepared for you immediately. Perhaps you’d like to give Miss Wickes, Sir James’ secretary, a list of your requirements?”
Helen stared at him as though an insect had suddenly spoken. Leek noted her disdain with a degree of satisfaction. She was welcome to dismiss him as an ineffectual bureaucrat. He’d built a career on being underestimated. He smiled nervously and stared at her breasts. Her disdain intensified, but she took a step towards him, allowing Stephen Hart to slip to one side, unnoticed.
“Thank you, Oliver. I’d like a room next to Nick’s. He and I have an awful lot of catching up to do.” She favoured Nick with a wide smile, which only added to the other man’s discomfiture.
This Nick Cutter was plainly no match for the woman standing in front of him, positively oozing confidence. The man would have to grow a backbone – and fast – if he was going to stand any chance whatsoever of keeping his staff out of her well-manicured claws.
Leek glanced over at the clock on the wall. Temple would be reporting to Lester’s office in the next five minutes.
He bobbed his head in acknowledgement of Helen’s demand and then headed for the door, in time to see Hart disappearing down the corridor in the direction of the atrium. He obviously didn’t have much faith in Cutter’s abilities to stand up to his ex-wife either and was taking the opportunity to get as far away from her as he could.
Leek took a deep breath and followed him. He had a suspicion that things were about to take a severe turn for the worse.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-03-26 10:46 pm (UTC)Hmmmm. Much as I hate and despise (this version of) Leek he's no fool and his summing up of Nick is spot on.
Let's see what Helen's up to...
no subject
Date: 2014-03-27 09:04 am (UTC)