Written by:badgirl2bad4u

Characters/Pairings: Lt. Esteridge and...well what d'ya know...ME! ;) haha
Description: A fan fiction for Neal McDonough's character, Lt. Esteridge, in The Hitcher, in which he meets BadGirl and smut ensues. Will continue with several "erase and rewinds" of the same story exploring all avenues it could have taken.

Rated: NC-17

DEDICATED TO MY BABYGIRL, DARKESTSTARRMS who introduced me to the movie The Hitcher.

"I'm a Philly chickie, only travel for the best of men. Had me out Atlanta just to see you in your belt and Tims..." -- Ms. Jade


"BadGirl cursed as steam billowed out from under the hood of her now useless vehicle, coasting it to the side of the road and damning her preference for classic cars. Without the aid of power steering it was a bitch to turn the wheel and she was already sweating her ass off under the New Mexico sun. Air conditioning was yet another luxury not afforded by driving a classic and you couldn't get a 2-60-AC going (roll down two windows and do 60 miles per hour) when your car was dead weight. She had rebuilt this bad ass baby blue 78 Mustang II from scratch and this was the thanks she got.

Several moments were spent after she had come to a halt on the side of the dusty desert road having a deep conversation with the vehicle. She let it know how unfair it was being after the brand new heads she'd just installed and how much care she'd taken in modifying the radiator to meet the sudden rise in temperature from what it was used to. Her car was the only family she'd taken with her on this little venture from the east coast and she was suddenly wishing for a freezing cold winter in Philadelphia with a Gino's cheese-steak to keep her warm.

Sighing in defeat she opened the door and climbed out, glaring up at the sun which she swore was mocking her as she opened the hood and backed away to let the heat escape.
After the steam had dissipated at least somewhat she leaned in to take a look, tracing the length of the cooling system and finding that her problems were very quickly going from bad to worse.

Split hoses...okay, that was easy enough to fix...hmmm...cracked radiator...not so easy to fix. She'd be damned if she'd put bars-leak or any other so-called "quick-fix" into her baby. That crap had a way of choking an engine in a manner thoroughly reminiscent of a heart attack. The first time she'd torn this motor down every port had been filled with that sludge and had been the reason it wound up in the junkyard to begin with. She leaned in a little further and nearly fainted seeing the antifreeze pouring out from every possible source like a sprinkler.

"FUCK!" She screamed as she turned from the car to no one in particular, other than maybe the vultures who were staring at her from the distance as if she were prime-rib. She flipped them off and watched them flap their wings in response.

Some vacation this was, she thought bitterly as she shielded her eyes and searched for anything she could head toward in this desolate hell of a state. Not a damned thing in any direction but sand, dirt, rock and tumbleweed.

She growled that she'd seen entirely too many horror movies that started off exactly like this and decided to..."



...try to rig the motor at least temporarily. If she could get it to stop leaking quite so severely she could use the gallons of antifreeze in her hatch to limp it along to the next town.

She pulled her hair up in a messy bun at the top of her head, lighting a cigarette and walking to the rear of her car, holding it between her lips as she popped the hatch.

She drew on the cigarette as she dug her toolbox out and smiled at a memory. It was a strange thing for a father to have to teach their daughter, but the ability to smoke hands-free had been a lesson he'd been forced to give when his teenage rebel of a daughter had decided to fill the position of apprentice in his auto shop. They'd been some of the funnest years of her life.

A soft laugh escaped her lips recalling the day she'd been sitting on top of the motor of his Toyota Supra Turbo wrenching to her heart's content and had heard the words, "since when do you have tattoos?" come from him behind her in an annoyed tone.

Up until then she'd always left her hair down to cover it, despite the heat or how much it got in her face, but the ever elusive EGR valve project on his car had made her forget to be discrete about her ink. She'd cringed and said, "I just got that one a few months ago...", only to be cut off with, "That ONE? How many do you have?"

He'd said "tattoos"...and he did it on purpose, deliberately let her walk right into the trap he'd laid down for her. She shook her head recalling the way she'd tiptoed around him for weeks afterward...only to have to do it all over again when she got her eyebrow pierced. He'd wondered if she'd been fighting or something, the way she kept her hair hiding one side of her face at all times until finally she was hit with the words, "what the HELL is sticking out of your face?" at dinner one night.

She pulled a shop blanket out of the backseat and tucked it under her arm, lugging the toolbox and a few gallons of antifreeze around the front with her and getting to work setting up her make-shift service department. It was quite a while before the motor cooled enough to attempt working on it since this deserted road was the last place she wanted to be if she suffered third degree burns.

Finally content that, while it would hurt like a bitch, she'd survive if any splashed on her she slid under the front of her car with a drop light, her beloved set of Snap-On gear wrenches, her lucky 3/4" drive ratchet and a tube of liquid gasket; another Marlboro pressed between her lips.

She knew it was a fool's hope that the goo would manage to harden in this heat before the sunset. Sighing she decided if worse came to worse she could reapply it a few times and sleep in her car overnight, allowing it to dry in the frigid night air.

She was on to repairing the second leak when she heard it...

Her eyes went wide, hands froze in place and she swallowed hard.

Boots were crunching along the gravel heading in her direction, and she most definitely had not heard a car. She reached over and grabbed her lucky ratchet for protection...

Now, for those of you who have never seen one I'll give it to you like this:

There is absolutely no reason for a person to carry a ratchet of that size except as a weapon, which was precisely why she'd bought it. Her father had laughed his ass off watching her eyes light up when she'd seen in at the parts store. He'd tried to talk her out of it, telling her that any job that required something that large needed to be done with an impact gun but she'd been determined to buy it.

Quite simply, a 3/4" drive ratchet is 10 lbs of chrome vanadium steel just a little shorter than a baseball bat with a head the size of a fist, it had been her constant driving companion.

BadGirl wrapped her fingers around the diamond-knurled grip, hearing the boots stop in front of her. Steadying her nerves she climbed out from under the car, finding a stranger staring back at her just a few yards away.

She supposed the man could be considered handsome...that is, if she were able to get past the cold fear that his presence sent racing up her spine.

His face was rough, like he'd seen too much violence in his time. She noted a few too many scars covering his hands and knew without a doubt they'd hurt people in the past. His hair was cut for purpose, not style, reminding her of those given in the military...prison...or most likely, judging by her gut instincts, insane asylums.

"Car troubles?" He asked with a smile that didn't reach his deadened eyes, and she shifted the ratchet in her hand letting her bicep flex slightly, showing him that she had no difficulty with its dense weight.

He was speaking in a strange accent and she tried to place it, her fear growing as she identified it as some horrible melting pot of every voice he'd ever heard, as if he'd sponged up a piece of everyone he'd met trying to decide how a person was supposed to act.


She arched a brow at him as the word reverberated off the walls of her mind, her features hardening as every warning bell in her body rang in red alert. This was an empty shell staring back at her, hollow of emotion or conscience and all alone with her for countless miles in any direction.

"What about you?" She asked skeptically, inclining her head to the desolate surroundings. "Or are you just out for a stroll in the middle of nowhere?"

He laughed and shrugged, ignoring her as if she didn't matter while his eyes wandered over the deserted landscape.

Oh fuck me runnin...he's looking for witnesses...she realized instantly, her grip on the ratchet tightening as her heart began hammering inside her chest. This wasn't some drunken roofer or horny sailor she was dealing with...she could handle herself just fine against those types...this was a cold blooded killer. She knew it to be truth to her very core.

He flexed his jaw seeing her spreading her feet in the gravel for better traction in his peripheral vision. His phony smile faded as he realized the girl could see right through him.

It was rare to find someone so intuitive, most people welcomed him into their homes, their cars, let him sit next to their children at dinner without ever suspecting something was wrong...

But not this one...

He took a step toward her and at the exact same time she took a step back, his lips curled in his real smile, the one he usually only shared with his victims as the last breath left their lungs. She intrigued him, now it was time to see if she was worthy of it.

Another step forward, another step back...but she wasn't running...

Good girl...he thought to girl...

She couldn't be sure if he had a gun and wasn't going to take a chance in removing those blue and yellow eyes from him even for a second.

"What's your name?" He asked as he stared her straight in the eye, and she fought back a wave of terror at the way he was suddenly studying her . Why did the psychos always find her so interesting?

"What the fuck does it matter?" She spat back, bringing her free hand to the grip of her ratchet. She knew she'd be swinging it very shortly.

He smiled, taking yet another step forward as she took another step back, nearly grinning at the little dance they were doing.

"I'm curious, is all..." He answered honestly, tilting his head to the side as his thoughts raced with excitement. He marveled at his good luck in finding this new playmate, images flashing through his mind of what he wanted to do to her.

He took another step forward and to his sheer delight this time she swung that ratchet...


His shoulder sung in agony but he'd let her hit him full force for a reason, waiting for the instant she had allowed her weight to shift forward to draw back his fist and bring it across her face.

The impact sent her spinning and she stumbled backward quickly, clutching her jaw and spitting out blood, glaring at him in defiance when she should have looked so fearful...

He rushed her and she swung the ratchet lower this time, aiming for his knees...

But he had a much longer reach than she had time to avoid, before she could connect he had tackled her and forced her to the ground, backhanding her repeatedly and struggling to pin her down. He was waiting for one of his blows to provide enough shock for her to give up the fight for a second, it was all he would need...but her expression was something different entirely.

Rage...absolute, primal and exquisite rage was twisting her features despite the pain of what he was doing to her and he loved every second of it.

He was too busy admiring her face to notice the ratchet coming, and she brought it up to the side of his head with enough force to knock him off of her, instantly climbing to her feet and backing away from him.

But nothing was going to stop this, she knew. Offering money wouldn't help...asking him what he wanted would serve no purpose...he just wanted her to die.

He was standing again so quickly, smiling at her despite the blood trickling down the side of his face. She needed to drop the ratchet, to grab her knife but there just wasn't any time...and as he rushed her again she landed another blow to his left shoulder with all of her strength, knowing it had done damage but it didn't make a damned bit of difference.

In an instant he had her, grabbing her with his uninjured arm and spinning her around so that her back was pressed against him. She began to fight with surprising fury and he grinned as he brought his other arm down around her despite the pain of at least one broken bone.

She was biting and screaming, elbows connecting with his ribs and stomach violently, those heavy boots slamming into his shins and knees with all her might. Her hands were reaching up for his face and he ducked down behind her head, laughing in pure delight as her fingers slid over his close-cut hair finding nothing to hold onto.

And somewhere in a dark corner of her mind for the first time in her life she cursed not having those long girlie nails...

She was fighting so hard..his arousal flashed to new heights as he thought to himself...but she knew...she already knew it was no use...she could see him...she understood that for him pain was part of life, like breathing and wouldn't deter him like it had those she'd fought off in the past.

He brought his fist down against her stomach over and over, listening to her screams as the wind was knocked out of her and loving the way she still fought despite the pain he was inflicting.

It seemed neither of them intended to let it slow them down.

"Shh...shhh..." He whispered in her ear as his hand tightened around her throat and she froze immediately.

His entire body trembled with excitement as his mouth dropped open, he took a choppy breath...his playmate knew what he was doing, understood completely that if he wanted to he could crush her windpipe and leave her to suffocate.

His eyes fluttered closed as he pressed his mouth against her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and sweat as his mind painted the graphic scene of her lying in the sand, staring up at him with terror and panic etched in her features as she died an excruciating and prolonged death...leaving him able to enjoy it from start to finish as he wouldn't have to do anything more than squeeze to start the process...

She felt him hardening against the small of her back as his fingers flexed on her throat and as if reading his thoughts began fighting again.

With her struggling frantically in his grasp he leaned backward as he walked toward the car, effectively lifting her feet off the ground and tightening his arms around her until her screams told him his grip was near to popping her joints from their sockets. The position took some of the fight out of her, it was difficult to reach him with her back suddenly arched so severely against him. He slammed her against the car aggressively, hissing in response to her painful scream.

That's right, scream for help...beg...

But something occurred to him and his eyes widened, he spun her around to face him, forcing his hips between her thighs for no reason other than to prevent any more of her powerful kicks as he pounded her wrists against the roof of the car above her head, staring with evident confusion down at her face.

She wasn't crying...why wasn't she crying?

He must be doing something wrong...

BadGirl called out in pain as he leaned forward and bit down on her shoulder, writhing in his grasp and screaming in agony as he drew blood. His breathing grew ragged feeling her squirm against him, but as his eyes wandered up to her face he was thunderstruck to find no tears in her eyes.

"What the fuck is your name?" He asked again as he backhanded her, screaming in her face in frustration.

She wasn't playing right...

His voice was gruff without a hint of his earlier accent and she knew he'd let go of his facade completely. This was the real him, whoever the hell he was.

She didn't speak, just stared up at him intensely as blood ran down her chest.

This was a game, and to lose it was to lose her life. If she gave him her name than he'd won, he'd gotten his way...he'd have succeeded in controlling her with the fear he inflicted.

If she gave him that satisfaction it was over, she'd have served her purpose. She would be just another toy cast aside by an attention starved child who was desperately seeking a companion.

His features twisted in rage at her lack of cooperation and without warning he brought his fist down across her face, the world around her dimming slightly as her legs gave out beneath her, her body slumping forward but he held her upright as he pinned her against the car.

She leaned her face on his chest for support as she screamed and fought for consciousness, moaning and using his body to ease the pain shooting through her cheek and jaw since he still had her hands pinned.

In her dazed and agonized state she felt his body tense at her touch, recoiling slightly at having a woman seeking comfort from him and something inside her clicked.

She'd found her way out...

She steeled herself to do the unthinkable, shocking him completely by taking his mouth with hers in a passionate, deep kiss.

He didn't react for a second, so surprised that he couldn't decide how to respond, but his body decided for him...

He growled into her mouth, breathing raggedly as his hands released their crushing grip on her wrists, wandering over her breasts and down to her ass, lifting her up so that he could press into the heat between her thighs.

He wanted was so strange to allow himself to admit that...he wanted to touch her, to taste take her...

Despite himself he let go, his face becoming a mask of pain and pleasure all at once as the world around him faded away. He was succumbing to the unfamiliar pleasure she was giving him, feeding on the soft moans vibrating through his mouth from hers. She wrapped her legs around his waist, showing him that he was welcome, offering herself to him willingly.

Breaking the kiss she let her mouth wander over his jaw as her hands caressed the back of his head, she was wiggling her ass in his hands pleadingly, asking him to fuck her, nibbling at his flesh and purring.

Why was she doing this?

He just couldn't understand it, none of the others had ever acted this way with him...he'd never allowed himself someone so eager for him...he had never had anyone who was...

The disorientation caused by her actions and the sensations running through him were so new, he couldn't get himself to think clearly.

"What's your name?" She breathed into his ear and sucked his earlobe, holding onto his shoulders as his head rolled back in ecstasy.

His brow furrowed in confusion through the clouds of pleasure. "Why?" He choked out before bringing his mouth back to hers, lost in the strange new comfort she was providing.

"I want to know what to scream..." She purred back between hot kisses and he smiled in his dazed state imagining the sound. He loved the screams...and he'd never had one saying his name before...

The instant it formed in his mind, threatening to fall from his lips, he snapped back to reality, throwing her to the ground brutally as his thoughts screamed disgust for her as well as his own actions.

She landed face first, coughing as the wind was knocked out of her and struggling to get to her hands and knees.

He was staring at her with wide eyed shock, his mouth hanging open as he came to terms with the fact that she'd almost beat him at his very own game. That realization earned her an enraged kick to the side of her stomach and she screamed in pain, clutching her ribs and curling into a ball.

So angry with her he quickly decided to end it, to ignore the rules and take her life as punishment for tricking him.

He took a step forward and to his surprise she scurried away quickly, rolling onto her back and freeing a wicked looking blade from her boot, lashing out and succeeding in slicing an upward arc across his stomach and chest.

His face relaxed slightly as he backed away, appreciation for the sight of her in that moment quelling some of his rage.

"Do it..." He urged, and she climbed to her feet holding the blade out in a way that told him she knew how to use it.

Sounds of an approaching vehicle caused them both to flinch, staring one another down, daring the other to turn away and look. When she refused to budge he smiled, holding his hands up as if trying to calm her.

To an onlooker it would appear he was the victim in that moment.

She clenched her jaw, glaring at him defiantly. He wouldn't win. She wouldn't let him. If she had to slash his throat in front of a witness than so be it, one more move and he was a dead man, the decision had been made.

The passing eighteen wheeler laid on its horn when they came into view but to her shock it kept right on going, not bothering to stop to lend assistance to either of them.

The stranger lowered his hands a moment after silence had settled over them once more, looking at her in some twisted form of adoration. "You would really do it, even if he stopped?" He asked and she looked at him in confusion.

"What kind of question is that? Of course I'll fucking kill you. Between the two of us I pick me. I'll be down the road drinking a shot to your memory before the vultures even start picking at your sick ass." She said, truly perplexed that he needed to hear that.

She was the one...

The thought astounded him, his excitement at the revelation made it hard to breathe and he closed his eyes as relief passed over him.

But he'd imagined this being far more difficult, had spent years picturing how it should happen. 'I'll fucking kill you' ...with that declaration from her it was decided, and now that it was here he felt a sort of sadness in his chest...he wasn't ready yet.

There was supposed to be much blood...and tears...and pleading before the end...

His face contorted in pleasure again as he quickly made the choice to keep this going.

It was, after all, far too early to put an end to their game.

BadGirl's brow arched defiantly at the emotions passing over his face. He seemed...happy...about something. The possibilities as to what that might be sent chills through her. She wasn't lowering her knife, though. Not one fraction of an inch.

There wasn't a doubt in his mind that another step in her direction would result in death.

"Then you can help me..." He said softly as he opened his eyes.

"Help y--? Are you off your fucking meds or something?" She asked angrily, but faltered a little as he reached behind his back and withdrew the gun he'd been saving for this moment.

"Drop it." He said, motioning to her knife and she swallowed hard.

Staring down the barrel of a .45 didn't really leave a lot of room for argument.

She let the knife fall from her hand and held them both up in surrender, complying when he motioned for her to kick the blade to the side.

"Turn around..." He whispered and she ground her teeth together painfully.

She clenched her jaw and shook her head. This wasn't how she was supposed to go out but she'd be damned if she'd be shot in the back, she would at least have the dignity to face her own death.

He smiled knowing what she was thinking.

"Trust me..." He said in a soft tone and she stared at him in disbelief.

He couldn't be serious...

But he was...oh God he really was...

He waited patiently as she growled in frustration and turned away from him, her eyes staring out at the barren landscape as she bitterly came to terms with the fact that it would be the last thing she'd see in this world.

His hand on her waist surprised her, his mouth on the side of her neck kissing her sweetly shocked her more.

"You value your life? You would kill anyone who stood in your way in order protect it?" He asked, resting his chin on her shoulder and smiling as she nodded. "And you don't want to die?"

Please...Oh God, I don't want to die!! A voice inside her mind was pleading hysterically and she shook her head, leaning back against him as a lump began to rise in her throat. No tears, though. She refused to cower in the face of inevitable death.

He sighed, he'd felt like that once, but not anymore. Now all that remained for him were the days...hours...minutes...until she would put an end to it all for him.

It was sick, twisted...psychotic even...but she reached up to the back of his head, holding him to her as she closed her eyes and tried desperately to keep it together. Facing the final moments of your life had an odd effect on a person, she wanted someone to hold her, even if it was her killer.

He wrapped his arm around her, kissing her cheek and sighing contentedly that his playmate had not disappointed him.

"Will you tell me your name now?" He asked, and she thought about it for a moment.

The game was over, he had her dead to rights. It no longer mattered. She wasn't scared, she had already faced her fear and had won his least until he'd changed the rules.

"Alisha..." She whispered. "My name is Alisha..."

He turned her around in his arms, smiling down at her in appreciation for the gift of that knowledge.

"Then, Alisha..." His smile widened and her heart beat frantically in her chest, pleading to be allowed to continue its rhythm. "This is goodbye..." He said and her body tensed expectantly.

To her surprise he didn't take aim, and she only had a fraction of a second to let the shock show on her face before he brought the butt of the gun down on her, knocking her unconscious.

"For now..." He said, smiling at her as she fell to the ground.