Title: Thy Will Be Done
Summary: How Doug's 'seduction' of Katherine could have gone.
Rating: M, purely for the subject matter
Disclaimer: 'The Reaping' is the property of Warner Video. No disrespect is meant and I make no money from this work of fan fiction.
Notes: This movie intrigued me in places. Or maybe it was just David Morrissey looking rather fine.... :P

It had been a calculated risk to drug the liquor. He'd determined ahead of time that he'd pretend to drink if need be and if she didn't come out of the house, that he'd entice her into drinking another way. He hadn't anticipated any trouble getting her to drink, because she'd done so readily enough earlier. She obliged him by taking the bottle, trying it, continuing to drink. Chatting her up about shared pain was easy enough and got her relaxed quickly. Sort of. There was still a tenseness about the set of her shoulders.

Doug glanced at her, gauging her condition on the slow walk back to the house. It wouldn't take long for the drug to begin working. Katherine handed the bottle back to him, yet reached for it only a moment later. He surrendered it, smothering a pleased smirk as she drank deeply. The more she had, the more pliable she'd be to his wishes.

He intended to have her as many times as possible with or without her consent. Hence, the drug, ensuring that she could give no refusal. Consent was a given.

It wasn't that he wished her harm. No, he rather liked her. It was just…the Lord's will be done. She'd been chosen for this and more and he was extremely willing to do what he was bidden in regards to her.

At the porch steps, Katherine raised the bottle once more, draining it of the last drops before taking those steps. Doug set the lantern down, extinguished it and followed, turning his gaze back to her in time to see her stumble at the door, dropping the bottle. It shattered as she made a grab for the doorway to catch herself. In four steps, he was to her, embracing her, lifting her a little so that she wouldn't cut her feet on the glass shards, and carrying her across the threshold.

Her hands grasped his shirt, head bowing, forehead resting against his chest. There was the faintest scent of vanilla on her hair. He heard her gasp for breath, felt the taut, tense line of her body relax as the drug began to take effect. Just a little while longer and she'd be most agreeable. He could hardly wait. With an anticipatory smile, almost predatory, he tucked Katherine against his side and led her to the stairs. They began up, Doug not carrying her, but rather steadying her so she could tread the steps on her own. If she were to remember this later, she had to remember she'd walked up the stairs on her own two feet. Not that she'd remember, not clearly. Still, if she did, she'd know it had been her own free will decision.

"Tired," she whispered, leaning heavily against him. He felt her hand sliding along his back, grasping first one place on his shirt, then another.

"You've had a long day, Katherine. Comfortable bed up here," he returned, smoothing his hand along the curve of her hip.

"Need to…lie down…." Her fingers hooked in the waistband of his jeans under his shirt and he tightened his arm around her.

"Almost there."

Once inside his room, he pushed the door shut with a foot, then took Katherine to the bed, laying her down very gently. Dragging her skirt down to expose her stomach, he placed his hands there and said a prayer for success. The prayers of the faithful were always answered one way or another.

Finally, they got down to business. Or pleasure, rather.

She didn't feel right. Hot, cold, shaky…out of it, like she'd taken a heavy dose of cold medicine. Weird. She frowned a little. Raising the bottle, Katherine took another drink, draining the dregs. The liquor blazed a hot trail into her stomach.

The porch floor seemed to lurch beneath her feet and Katherine staggered, forgetting she still carried the bottle as she flung out her hands to catch herself on the doorframe. The crash of the bottle shattering reached her ears as though from very far away, a distant tinkling. A few drops of liquid splashed her feet and she felt herself lifted, then set back down just inside the door. Doug's hands were hot against her, his arm pressing her against him. She smelled the musky scent of his aftershave. Katherine's vision whirled and she closed her eyes, grasping his shirt, pressing her forehead against his chest.

I'm not drunk, am I? From a few swallows of local liquor?

She released his shirt and raised her head. I'm sorry, she tried to say, but before her lips could begin to form the words, they were walking up the stair side by side and it took all of her concentration not to stumble again.

Consciousness blurred.

Katherine opened her eyes wide, trying to bring the world into focus for more than a few seconds at a time. Her eyes weren't cooperating, everything she saw swimming in and out of focus. She squinted in a vain effort to remedy that and realized she was in Doug's bedroom again, lying on her back on his bed. The dark, ornately carved headboard caught her eye and she stretched out a hand towards it to see if it was real or if she'd fallen asleep and was dreaming.

Had to be a dream. She couldn't be up here. She'd taken a drink from that bottle only a minute ago. How'd she end up here? Walking up the stairs. She'd walked, hadn't she?

Her hand wouldn't reach the headboard, couldn't, for he tugged her into a sitting position then, commanding her attention with lips that ravaged hers. Never had she been kissed before with such ferocity, as though he planned to devour her. The intensity made her uncomfortable, but she couldn't break free from the strange paralysis that had hold of her. It wrapped about her in loving embrace, cocooning her against reason.

His hands moved over her body, stripping her of her clothes, and once that task was completed, she was laid back down almost tenderly. Her stomach churned, nausea an incessant thrashing in her belly. Outside, lighting struck several times in quick succession, affording her a glimpse of Doug undressing beside the bed. There was the strangest look on his handsome face. Cool calculation mixed with lust and, as the light faded, his expression took on a sly cast. In that second a sliver of fear pierced her fully.

Katherine drew in a sharp breath.

I don't want this.

No sound passed her parted lips, though she tried to speak. Katherine drew her legs up, hoping she could convey her refusal. Her body refused to cooperate and all she could do was twist helplessly on the wide bed.

He smiled, hands grasping her ankles and gently pulling, laying her legs out flat again. "Going somewhere," Doug asked, trailing his fingers up her legs in tiny circling motions that sent shivers along her skin.

Katherine closed her eyes. Make this a dream, she pleaded silently. Make this a dream and nothing more. This isn't who I am.

She felt his mouth on her stomach, lips nibbling, tongue swirling a trail up her body in slow degrees. Every movement she could manage only brought her closer to him. She turned her head and he was there, mouth latching onto hers; flung her arm out and he was there; arched her back in an attempt to scoot away on the bed and he was there. Doug clasped her hands in his, twined their fingers and laid her arms up by her face. He held her down while her mind whirled in circles. She was helpless beneath him, no longer attempting to evade his hands and mouth.

The feel of his touch on her body changed, from insistent to coaxing, enough of a change that Katherine decided she did dream, and gave herself up to it. Not real, Katherine thought, as reality twisted once more. Round and round and round it went in dizzying circles. Every time she opened her eyes, she was in another position -- on her knees, on her back, straddling him, over and over, wherever he placed her. Was she conscious? She couldn't be. Surely she dreamed, for she saw the girl Loren at the balcony door peering at them. How could she be here now at this moment?

Lightning continued to flash outside, leaving an acrid stench in the air that filled her nostrils, mingling with the scent of Doug's aftershave. Head thrown back, Katherine rebelled against the urging of his hands and paused, staring at the balcony door. Had she really seen the girl there?

Doug squeezed her hips, one hand raising to draw her back down to him and Katherine forgot what she'd been wondering as he kissed her again.

She was in no condition to protest, unable to escape him. Doug took full advantage. Anything he wanted from her he took, and after a fashion, she began to respond, doing whatever he directed her. Accommodating. He liked that in a woman. He suspected she wouldn't be nearly so accommodating when not drugged. If there needed to be a repeat of tonight, he'd certainly have to drug her again.

Somewhere near the end of the storm, she lost consciousness completely, lying limply still beneath him. That didn't bother him. Doug finished with her as though she was still conscious, then cradled her against him for a long moment before sighing and getting up from the bed. Time to erase most of the evidence.

He washed her with warm water and a soft cloth, wiping their sweat from her skin, prolonging this as long as he could. Within minutes, he had her redressed and carried her downstairs, careful to keep from stepping on the creaking spots of the floor. Nothing to alert her friend. Gently, he laid her on the guest bed and arranged her like she'd fallen asleep working. Bending, he kissed her lips a final time.

So beautiful. So favored.

Doug laid a hand on her belly and, after a second's pause, placed a kiss there as well -- soft, reverent. He stood, "Thy will be done," and headed back upstairs to bed.