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Student blackmails his teacher.

"I want to make a deal."

"I don't recall you being in a position to make deals. There is nothing you can offer me that I can't just take." Oh really? Then she must have imagined the way his voice had deepened, as it did each time something piqued his interest and he, realizing that showing it wouldn't work to his advantage, tried to disguise it. "Still, just for the sake of argument...what would it entail?"


She was planning something. Of course she was planning something. She was showing her metaphorical white underbelly while talking, which would be a dead giveaway on its own, but she had also mentioned the word 'deal', which was as good as flat out admitting she intended to stab him in the back in the next few minutes. What clinched it, however, was the tone. She was using that wavering, almost childish voice that she only ever used when she wanted something. Believing anything she said when she was talking to him like that would be about as sane as entrusting Nick with a thousand dollars and setting him loose in a whorehouse. Or a dairy farm.

In a way, Jack felt relieved that she was back to her usual tricks. Though he was only admitting it to himself now that he could see that there was nothing to fear, he had been worried about whether his actions had hit her too hard. Taking her before she was barely recovered from her near-death experience had been a risky move. It could have ruined everything, broken her mind beyond repair instead of working as it was intended to: as a way of showing her what her continued defiance would earn her, and dissuade her from being stubborn for the sake of being stubborn. However, if she was able to build a halfway decent deception seconds after waking, things couldn't be too hopeless.

"I'll...I'll consent. Once." Her words brought him back to reality, and he stared back at her in shock. "If it's not as bad as...that, I'll think about not fighting you anymore."

"You will consent to what, exactly?" Jack inquired, his thoughts running wild despite knowing the answer already. There was a catch. There had to be, but he'd be damned if it wasn't well hidden. She was essentially parroting back the arrangement he himself had proposed to her; at the very least, asking if she could give it a trial run. It was odd. It was suspicious. It was precisely what he wanted from her, and that made it more suspicious still. It was also demanding all his strength to resist grabbing her, pinning her down like a butterfly and prove to her just how unlike her previous experience things could be between them.
It was, in short, too good to be true.

"Anything but what you did to me in that tub." Her reply came so readily that he couldn't help but consider, for a short, irrational second, that she might be serious about everything. Although he was sure that she didn't want him to touch her or do anything at all to her, perhaps his brutality had made his point clear. If she truly hated what she had gone through so much that she was willing to do anything to avoid a repeat, he imagined she wouldn't be acting too differently. She was prideful, so she wouldn't simply accept his offer. She would try to make it sound like her own idea, which was exactly what she seemed to be doing. Still, he needed to be certain.

"Very well." He said, smiling at her. If she was being honest, it was his duty to reassure her that he meant no harm. It seemed to have the opposite effect, though, so he dropped it. "Let's put that to the test, shall we?"


While it wasn't the worst idea Valerie had ever had - she had tried to microwave a can of soda once - it was certainly the most unpleasant one.

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