Marcus/River Ch.2 Deliverance
Title: Deliverance (2/?)
Series: The Powers that be
Author: Romanceguru
Disclaimer: Joss is the boss of me.
Rating: R for violence.
Fandom: Firefly/Angel
Characters/pairing: Marcus, River. Marcus/River eventually?
Warning: Possibly very dark and disturbing.
Summary: Marcus & River arrive on Londinium were she is to be delivered.
Notes: Thanks to
bugchicklv for her help on some of the finer points and to
guinny_hamilton for introducing me to the wonderful, cruel world of MH fic. Betaed by my
elsibet34.
CH. 1, Commodity can be found here.
Marcus couldn’t recall when it was he’d drifted into slumber, but the next thing he knew, everything was still and the shuttle doors were being throw open. The sunlight that streamed in irritated him instantaneously. He’d always found the daytime to be disgustingly cheerful and obtrusive.
A familiar voice was shouting at him from behind the blinding light. “Bloody hell, Marcus! For goodness sakes, stop cuddling with the chosen one and act like the ancient evil you are.”
Quickly, he glanced down to find that indeed, fit snugly under his arm rested the Tam girl. Well, stranger things had happened. Marcus removed his arm and made a mental note to later figure out how he ended up in such an uncharacteristic position. Firstly, there were more pressing matters to be had, like ridding himself of her entirely.
Marcus raised a large, meticulously groomed hand to shield the sun. “Culverton. So glad you could meet us. I assume you’re here to collect the girl?” Immediately, he began to unfasten them both, already fantasizing about the long, hot bath he’d take while sipping a nice vintage, a Pinot noir perhaps. Just because he wasn’t of the human worlds, didn’t mean he couldn’t luxuriate in what they had to offer him.
While he was busy, Culverton stepped away and spoke in hushed tones with someone just outside. Most likely it was his buxom little PA, indubitably not hired for her secretarial skills.
Marcus propped the girl back up as she began to slump over. She felt fragile in his care; one slight misstep and he could break her. The prospect excited him tremendously.
Using one hand to hold her steady, he proceeded to pat her cheek with the other, hard enough to warrant a distant groan. “Rise and shine, River. The entirely evil and calculating supernatural beings are here to take you.” River lolled her head to the side, her eyes fluttering, struggling against some distant nightmare only to awake to the next.
Culverton leaned back into the small cabin. “Crikey, what did you do to her Marcus? The lady is comatose.”
“The girl was handled with care, no injuries to speak of.” Marcus looked down to the massive purplish-blue bruise spanning her left upper arm. “Well, as much as could be helped.” He looked over at his useless assistant expectantly. “Are you going to take her or not? I have business to attend to.”
His assistant laughed jovially. “That’s funny. Really, Marcus. I think you were gravely misinformed. The partners have asked that you keep the girl in your charge. Her presence on Londinium is precarious. You know they will be after her. Wolfram and Hart feel you are most suited to protect her. They also specified that you are to make her feel at home.”
Marcus couldn‘t believe his ears. “Since when have you been chummy enough to speak with the partners through conduit?”
“Since they appointed me to temporarily take over your office.” Culverton replied matter-of-factly.
Marcus clenched his jaw at the news. He had gone from head of evil inc. on one of the central planets to babysitter of the cracked in a matter of moments. That was a large blow to swallow, even for a decorous fellow such as himself.
Sucking it up, he pursed his lips together. “Very well, Culverton. If the Partners deem you capable enough, then so be it. You know as well as I the alternative to messing up. I trust you’ll keep things in order.” Lifting the girl into his arms, Marcus exited the shuttle.
His assistant looked down at the girl, her face cradled by the peace of slumber. So unsuspecting, poor little thing. “She’s a real beauty.” He observed, admiring the way her dark hair framed her young porcelain skin and how her lips rose to a gentle pout.
Marcus looked incredulously at the half-demon and then down at the girl in his arms and considered her. Her defects were many, being human the most dominant. He supposed if he were to hold her to those low standards, she wasn’t that completely unpleasant to look at. “The mortal is not unusual enough to entice me. The whole virginal innocence thing is becoming quite the bore.” Marcus responded dryly.
Culverton shrugged his shoulders. “Suit yourself. But from what I understand, she’s far from the typical being.”
“Hardly.” Marcus snorted and moved past, hoping that he wouldn’t be burdened by the thing for too much longer.
“Cheerio, Marcus.” Culverton called after him. “Wish you the utmost luck! Oh, and I should stress that no harm should befall the girl. By your hand included. They will summon you for her one year from the day.”
Marcus spun back around. “Pardon me? You are most certainly joking.”
“Afraid not, my friend.” Culverton’s self-satisfied smile proved that he was deeply enjoying this.
The urge to put his hand through some poor soul strongly gripped Marcus. Breathing deep, he turned away from Culverton before he ripped the smug expression from his face. Quite literally.
----
After laying the slumbering girl on his bed, Marcus stripped down and settled into that much-desired bath, hoping to momentarily forget his reassignment. Hmmm, that’s better, he thought as the hot water surrounded him. He preferred the temperature near boiling.
Just as he was getting comfortable, a shriek emanated from the next room. Marcus rolled his eyes. And so it begins.
Standing, the steam rose from his body as it clashed with the cool air. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around his extremities before heading into his bedroom.
He found the girl in the corner, trembling. Her arms were shielding her face from some invisible aggressor. Kneeling before her, he could smell her fear; pungent, thick and delightful. Too bad it wasn’t for him.
Peeking her face from beneath her hands, she perceived him with a look of confusion.
Marcus smiled as humanly as he could manage. “Ah, you’re finally awake. Dream long?”
Slowly pushing herself up against the wall, she looked around, disoriented, and muttered, “It’s not relevant.”
He stood upright with her. “Do you remember who I am?”
River looked at him as if he was an idiot. “Marcus.” She then paused, as if recalling something. “Creature of darkness.”
So, she did remember who and what he was. Good. No false pretences to disprove.
River scanned the room. It was white, stark and unfeeling. Her mind was numb. “This isn’t home.”
“No, I‘m afraid not.” Marcus feigned a sympathetic tone. “However, I‘ve always found home such an ambiguous term. It is where you make it, you know.”
Ignoring him, River began to panic. The order of things was incorrect. “Simon? Where’s Simon?”
Marcus sighed. “You really must get past him. He missed the boat, so to speak. Probably wallowing in his failure of you. Very dedicated man. Too bad love and devotion pale against forces more formidable."
River moved past him, searching for an exit, a way out, while muttering frantically. “No…no… no. Will not be set free and re-caged!”
Marcus calmly followed her out of the bedroom and down the stars to the lower level of his penthouse, and watched with amusement as she tried all the doors and then the widows. Indeed, she was like a caged bird, flapping recklessly. So hopeful, yet her efforts are equally futile.
Then, to his surprise, a kitchen window was wedged loose and pushed open.
River scampered up to the ledge and looked down at the tiny street below. Her hair twirled around her as the wind gusted and she could feel the slight warmth of the sun on her face.
Everything was backwards, jumbled, life and death transposed. Nothing mattered anymore. Quickly deciding between hell and damnation, she jumped.
For a single moment, she felt free, liberated from years of anguish, and then something caught her arm and she crashed hard against the window ledge. Pain engulfed her body as she was pulled back inside and thrust up against the wall.
Marcus pinned his large frame against her tiny one, using his body as leverage and grabbed her chin hard, forcing her to look at him. “I’d appreciated if you didn’t do that again,” he warned. “I want you to promise me you won‘t.”
She was forced to look into the flat blue of his eyes, with death intermingled in the pigment. There was something so utterly terrifying and calculating behind them, that it haunted her bones. His naked skin felt like ice pressed up against her, and she shivered as it reminded her of the sterile metal, pushing and prodding invasively.
“Come now, promise like a good little girl and I’ll release you.” He chided.
As he looked deep into her eyes, he thought he detected a trace of apprehension. The discovery pleased him. It was abnormal the way she acted, so impervious to his eminence.
River kicked, pummeled, and struggled against him, craving to feel again her moment of fleeting deliverance. Nothing mattered if she couldn’t be with Simon, if he was suffering because of her.
Marcus had to admire the spirit in the girl as she writhed against him. A little psychotic firecracker she was. Eventually she gave up. They always did. “Done?”
River narrowed her eyes. He wished to control her like the others. Will her into submission. No, she would not let him. She would fight with the broken pieces, with whatever was left. Closing her eyes, she did just as they taught her and when she found it, snapped them back open. “They would dispose of you. You are disposable.”
Marcus smirked. “Highly unlikely. I’m a valued commodity. Have been for centuries. The partners appreciate loyalty.”
“Not as mighty as you think.” She corrected.
Marcus was growing impatient. “You understand very little.”
River looked at him unwaveringly. “Created for objective in the grand scheme. Your purpose is subsidiary. Ephemeral. Loyalty is not binding in a world where there is no obligation to its children. You are their spawn.”
Marcus felt the anger build, his normal composure disrupted by…just whom did she think she was? Her logic confused him, made him wonder beyond his realm of conception. No. She was wrong. Just an insignificant piece of human trash and it was time to take out the garbage. Raising his fist back, he could imagine her face shattering even before he struck. The image should have thrilled him.
The wall crunched loudly right beside her, bits of plaster freckling her dark hair as she flinched. Turning, she saw Marcus’s arm buried deep within the wall. Her eyes went wide with realization. Turning back to him, she whispered perceptively. “You can’t hurt me.”
Marcus leaned in closer, his mint breath ghosting her lips, the tone of his voice menacing. “Yes, well, I can mostly certainly make your stay here less than pleasant.”
Released, she slid down the wall and crumpled to the ground like a rag-doll. Her whole body was weak, her world shaken more violently than ever before, and as she looked up into the face of pure evil, she believed that he would do just that.
TBC
-----> Next: Adaptation