"I said this isn't about me!" he snarled. "Stop returning to that!"

"Rikk, please-" But he ran the exciter over her pussy again, kept it there, and Ilsa was consumed, her mind and body spiralling upwards into a ferocious, undeniable climax, her hips jerking, her whole body quivering as if in disgust at the urine which now ran down between her thighs and over the tops of her feet. Only then did her eyes squeeze shut, in rapture if not shame, and her teeth bite down on her lower lip, as if to use the pain as a focus away from the other sensations.

The blood was rushing through Ilsa's ears, so she started when she felt the manacles holding up her arms give way, providing slack. She collapsed to her knees with a pained yelp, as much from surprise and exhaustion as from the feelings now diminishing within her, the strength and will long since drained from her like water from a sponge. Someone took her, held her- Rikk?

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Rikk?"

Sam.

Something, a longcoat, draped around Ilsa, and she looked up into Sam's concerned, angry expression. The other woman's voice turned tender. "Are you okay?"

Ilsa worked her tongue, sought moisture, settling on silently nodding.

Then Sam looked to Rikk standing there, her words as sharp as her expression. "Are you starting to believe the fucking propaganda now? Like being the Big Bad Monster?" Then she saw the bulge in Rikk's caftan. "Oh Christ, you're getting off on this, aren't you?"

He turned away, his throat darkening with embarrassment, letting the control drop from his hand. "You have no business being here, Sam."

"The hell I don't!" She pulled the coat shut around Ilsa, helping her to her shaky feet and holding onto her. "Is it that difficult to believe that the fucking Coalition would trick her into getting you captured? She loved you, you idiot. I'd give everything to have a tenth of that love."

She led her out, Ilsa unable to look at him, Rikk unable to look at her.

The curfew broke at dawn. Customers had been departing for their homes for some time now. Rikk sat alone in his office, glass in hand, whiskey untouched. He was told that Sam had Ilsa dressed, and took her out to her place.

Rikk had considered having them followed. Then realised he had no reason.

She had been telling the truth. He'd put her through all that pain for nothing. What was worse, he had forced her body to become aroused, which in turn aroused him.

He thought he had stopped being so attuned to her body. He thought the time, the separation, and especially the bitterness, would have severed that link between them.

It hadn't.

He picked up the exciter from his desk, looked at it for a moment, then brought it down upon the surface, again and again, until it smashed to pieces and scarred the wood. He swore never to touch one of them again, for any reason.

He was certain he could be a bigger bastard than he'd been tonight. He just wasn't sure how.

Of all the gin joints in all the towns in the world, she had to walk into his. "Play it," he said aloud. "Play That Song."

The media box on his desk replied as expected. "Prior command has locked out that file."

He expected it. In fact, he had locked away that particular song in the memory. "Sam played it for her, you can play it for me." Louder now, he ordered, "Override prior command."

The box complied, and the office filled up with a song recorded the night of the fundraiser, the night they first met Lazlo. Vorhavok didn't cry, at least not as copiously as humans. But hearing the song again, in full, his eyes watered and his heart sank from the weight of memory, of pain and guilt and rage and grief. And love.

Yes, still love.

But even love twisted his insides like a hellish thing.

A bip from a secure comlink interrupted his feelings, and he took a moment to force them down again before shutting off the music and opening a link. "Well?"

The voice hissed. "Such abruptness, Rikk. I know you despise me-"

"If I gave you any thought, I probably would. What have you learned, Ugarte?"

"Your little monkey Ilsa's been wanted by the Coalition for some time. There's a substantial reward for her capture."

Rikk heard that glint in the voice. "Yes, a pity we don't know where she is. What about Lazlo?"

"Gone to ground, nothing's been seen of him for weeks. The Resistance are getting nervous about it."

Rikk grunted. "Send me the rest of your data."

A pause, then, "My fee, Rikk-"

Impatiently he reached out and sent a substantial credit to his account over the link, waited for him to verify it.

"So wonderful dealing with someone who recognises my talents," he hissed, before breaking the audio connection. Seconds later, information appeared onscreen.

Rikk said nothing, merely scanned the data Ugarte had collected. Seeing things that Ugarte hadn't seen. Confirming suspicions.

And he knew he had to risk everything to find out more.