Week Two, Wednesday, 1840 hours.
"Status report."
Baker handed over his clipboard and turned the sound system's volume down. "The serum's still in effect, sir, even though the buck was dosed over ten hours ago. The subjects have mated five times, and they're currently resting."
Stryker flipped through the notes, half a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Excellent. As long as Wolverine doesn't develop a resistance to the serum, things should move along much faster now." He handed the clipboard back to Baker, grinning smugly. "We'll have a product for the buyers well within the time schedule, at this rate."
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Wolverine stretched languidly, a satisfied purr rumbling from his chest; he was becoming much more relaxed in his surroundings, although he certainly did not like being in captivity - he longed for the forest and the cool streams and the deep snow of the Canadian wilderness. He rolled over on his side and gazed down at his mate, who was drowsing quietly beside him, and smiled. He'd begun to think that he'd never find anyone like her, someone who could not only tolerate him, but also want to be with him, mate with him, be a loving companion. And she did love him - it was plainly evident in her glances, her movements, her scent, her gestures; she fairly lit up when he looked her way, damn near squealed when he grabbed her and held her close, and had even returned his hungry growls a time or two. She was as insatiable as he, and responded to his touches and kisses with a ferocity that rivalled his own.
Rogue sighed and cuddled closer to his softly vibrating body, snuggling into the warm space between his chest and his arm; it was comforting, knowing he was there to protect her. The thought that she ought to have been taken back to her own cell already niggled at her contentment, though - Logan should have returned to his normal self by then as well, and it was starting to worry her a bit.
She opened her eyes and looked up to discover him studying her carefully, as if he were trying to remember every pore of her skin. "Hey," she mumbled sleepily, and dropped a kiss into his chest hair.
He made a little grunting sound in response, and kissed her forehead.
"Logan," she said, her gaze flicking up to meet his warm brown eyes, "Ah been thinkin'."
He was learning to understand her as the days went on; her words weren't always clear, but her tone of voice told him a lot, and it faintly bothered him that even though she was still glowing from their last mating, her tone was serious. Serious tones meant Serious words - words he couldn't understand. He tried hard, though. "Mmf?"
She slid up his body to rest her hands on his collarbones, her skin soft and sleek against him. "They've been puttin' us together everyday for a long time - Ah'm not too sure how long we've been here, though - any idea?"
He frowned uncomprehendingly and tried not to notice the sweet scent of sex floating around them. She never wanted to mate when her tone was in Serious mode.
Seeing she wasn't going to get a response, she sighed and went on. "Well, Ah'm startin' to think - well... Ah think they want us to have sex. Ah mean, they always give us plenty of time to do it, and then right after we have one last go, they come and take me back to my own cell."
He blinked a couple of times, trying to sort out what she was trying to tell him.
"If this was some kinda sleazy joint, Ah'd be inclined to think they're makin' porn tapes of us and sellin' 'em off on the internet or somethin', but... this place is like a hospital, or a research facility. Ah think they're studyin' us for some reason." She shifted her weight to the side, the wiry curls between her thighs tickling his hip. "What're they studyin', though? What're they tryin' to find out? Ah know the old guy knows you, and that lady doctor told me we were 'puzzle pieces of the future'. What the hell does that mean?"
She was starting to sound agitated, which bothered him further; it upset him to see her upset, and he wished he could figure out what she was saying so he could comfort her somehow. He growled softly and held her closer, stroking both hands up and down her back, pressing little kisses on her cheeks and mouth.
"Logan," she whispered against his lips, "we gotta get outta here. Somethin' bad's gonna happen, Ah just know it, and we're gonna get the worst of it."
He rolled her over onto her back and licked his way down her body, bringing her peace the only way he knew how.
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"The timing is perfect," Dr. Risman asserted, slapping the test results onto the desk in front of Stryker. "We have to do it now, or it'll be another three or four weeks of waiting."
Stryker frowned. "And the treatments?"
Risman folded her arms and leaned a hip onto the desk. "They're pushing things along a bit, but science can only push nature so far. Some things have to be done according to the doe's biological schedule if we want results any time soon."
Stryker sighed, glaring at the medical report. "Fine. I was hoping to study Wolverine a little longer, to see if the Alpha serum could actually alter his personality permanently - it's been taking longer and longer to wear off, and when it does, he's quiet and out of sorts for hours." He looked up at Risman, steely eyes glinting behind the rimless glasses he wore. "If we can keep him in his feral state permanently, we could keep him active for years on end, perhaps even decades. We could make a fortune just studding him."
Risman snatched the report back, glaring furiously. "I'm a doctor, not a pimp! This operation is what you hired me for, and that's what I'm concerned with - the scientific outcome of this procedure. Not making money by whoring out the test subjects."
Stryker couldn't help laughing. "All right, all right. Go ahead with Phase Two - but I want him on a regular dosing schedule, to eliminate any problems. Have darts made up, each one filled with the maximum dosage of Alpha, and able to be fired from a normal tranq gun. If we can hit him from a distance, maybe we can keep him feral round the clock, so we won't have to remove the doe every night."
"I'll have the lab techs on it before lunch. Just remember - her emotional state is as important to this operation as her physical state. If she's too nervous, or under constant stress, the procedure will fail. They need to be as comfortable as possible."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Comfortable? Do you have some suggestions, Doctor?"
Risman pushed off the desk and headed for the door. "Dose him when they're sleeping, or at least when she is. And as for physical comforts..." She paused in the doorway and turned back to give Stryker a subtle frown. "Some blankets and pillows might be a good idea."
She shut the door on his laughter.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I totally apologize for Dr. Risman's Bones McCoy line in this chapter. In retrospect, I could've just added "Dammit, Jim!" to the beginning of the sentence. But I'm a writer, not a... something else.