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[versusnurture]

[Abigail knows, now, that it's only a matter of time. He's been allowed into the kitchen. He won't show his true face, but one way or another, he'll start working on people. Ripping them apart, one way or another. Making them see too much of themselves until they eat themselves up from the inside, or worse. And she doesn't know, even now, if she wants to help him or if she wants to run.]

[She's tired of being prey, tired of being helpless, tired of being alone and crazy, and most of all she doesn't want people to know - so why has she been telling them? Why did she tell Arkin, why did she let Zane find out? Why is Ben, who has power, letting this happen?]

[She is afraid, so she ties a bright blue scarf around her neck and makes deliberate appearances in several common rooms, the cafeteria, the greenhouse, and the library, a copy of Jane Eyre tucked under her arm. She's quiet when it's appropriate, polite or even chatty when someone approaches her. But there's something not quite right about the set of her smile, to those who know her very well or look very closely, and her heart beats like a rabbit's every time she sees someone new.]

for ben } thursday

[After Riddick finds her, Abigail thinks about the situation for a while. No, she doesn't trust Ben. She doesn't really trust anyone. But Riddick had at least one point: he seems to have decent motives. He seems to care. And maybe that means she's going about this all wrong. Maybe he's more Will than Hannibal. Or like Alana, even: smart and capable but with a part of him that can't see through what Abigail holds on the outside.]

[He has trouble, she knows, with touch. But he's sweet anyway. He cares.]

[She waits for him outside the kitchen, when his shift is over, hands twisting in the hem of her shirt, eyes on the floor.]

Comments

[versusnurture]

[Her eyes flick up to him. Riddick. Works in the kitchen. Works with Ben. Maybe he knows something. That fear-smell flares.]

It's okay. Not the best thing I've ever read.

[with_my_teacup]

[Riddick briefly considers how patient he is and how kind he's feeling. The answer to both comes back 'sort of.']

You mind telling me what it's about?

[versusnurture]

It's about . . .

[She pauses, tilting her head at him. Why does he care?]

It's about a woman who's a governess. She wants to marry a man she works for even though she also wants to be independent, and then it turns out his crazy wife is in the attic.

[with_my_teacup]

Interesting reading. Your usual? Intrigue, prison, sex politics?

[versusnurture]

I, um. I like Flannery O'Connor.

So . . . kind of, yeah.

[with_my_teacup]

You wanna keep talking lit? Or you wanna talk about why you smell like fear.

I could go either way.

[versusnurture]

[A flinch.]

What's to talk about?

[with_my_teacup]

Yeah, I know. Why tell a warden there's something wrong when you can keep in sight all day, make sure people have eyes on you. [A casual shrug.]

So, O'Flannery? Name doesn't ring a bell. Then again, not a big reader.

[versusnurture]

I have people to talk to. [A bright smile.] I have Ben.

[Guess what the chances are that she actually confides in Ben. Guess.]

And you got that wrong on purpose.

[with_my_teacup]

Did I.

[Do you.]

[versusnurture]

Yes.

[But she shakes her head slightly.]

[with_my_teacup]

He's a good guy. You should turn him onto some of your books. He seems naive and all, but he can handle it better than you'd think.

[All right, not the most subtle.]

[versusnurture]

I know he is.

What did he tell you?

[with_my_teacup]

Not to read too much into someone's name.

[versusnurture]

[Abruptly, she's angry, violently so. Which doesn't make sense. She doesn't want Hannibal in the kitchen. It's good that Ben told Riddick. So - why is she angry, and why is Hannibal still in there?]

I see.

[with_my_teacup]

[His lips purse and he leans in, voice deepening, a little more grating.]

Back in the day, Ben and I were dinner shift inmates, you know? Breakfast shift guy was named Lecter. Taught me to cook. I liked him. Trusted him.

But I don't know what to make of the new guy. Ben ain't really given me any insight. So I'm in the dark. Metaphorically: I'm fine with the literal kind.

[He lays his position bare-- not just what he knows but what he doesn't know. Because Ben told him not to read too much into a name. Not if that name is Hobbs. Not if it's the name of an old friend. His wariness and irritation with the unknown are plainly audible.]

[versusnurture]

[She hunches her shoulders protectively. A slight exaggeration, but not much of one. She's helpless.]

I don't know anything about any man named Lecter who was here before.

[Technically true. Also an obvious crock.]

[with_my_teacup]

I wouldn't know where to start telling you about him.

[Unless you give him something to go off.]

[versusnurture]

[She rolls her eyes.]

Favorite color? Food? Weather?

[What a smooth operator she is.]

[with_my_teacup]

He was into gourmet wildcrafting. Knew the edible plants, herbs, how to cook all kinds of game.

[Riddick's pokerface is a wall of nonchalant stone.]

[versusnurture]

[She snorts.]

You didn't answer the other two questions.

[with_my_teacup]

I can't say I knew them. Colorblind and all, it's not something I ask. And there ain't weather on a barge.

[versusnurture]

Well.

Gourmet wildcrafting is a similarity.

[with_my_teacup]

Good, so he's going to be a help in the kitchen.

[Riddick's tone neatly communicates that he's really not sure he wants Hobbs anywhere near his kitchen.]

He didn't hunt a lot on the barge. Even in ports. Small animals from the CES once or twice, but he wasn't real active.

[versusnurture]

Small animals.

[A quiet, barely-audible laugh.]