Prompt: "AU where everything is the same but Thorne is a satellite-shackled shell and Cress is an American fugitive on-the-run wanted criminal. They are the same personality-wise. [...] Damsel-in-distress!Thorne. Captain!Crescent. That will be all."

Disclaimers: Plot belongs to Marissa Meyer. Likeness to canon is intentional and for effect. Yes, the title is lame.

Warning: Think about a trapped, repressed teenage boy with only access to the net. He then meets a beautiful girl. He has Thorne's personality. Read at your own risk.

Damsel!Thorne & Captain!Cress

by lovelunarchron

Cress Darnel was lying sprawled on her back, one arm supporting her head and the other the portscreen, when she heard a loud clang above her cell. She peered up, uninterested, and dropped her head down again. The images of nature on the screensaver of the portscreen were far more fascinating than anything that ever happened in New Beijing Prison.

The guard on duty had taken pity on her a few weeks before, telling her she looked "as cute as a button" and "could surely use some entertainment." Cress had wanted to retort and tell the older woman that—despite her height and petite frame—at twenty years old, it was insulting to be called cute as a button, and that something like that could be bad for her reputation. Her fans called her daring and brave—heroic even.

Not exactly descriptions that were associated with cuteness or buttons.

But before she could say anything, the guard had handed her the portscreen and Cress had happily accepted it. It had been stripped of net access, and, as far as Cress could figure out, access to pretty much anything. She was rather incompetent at technology, so in the end she'd settled for watching the screensaver images fade in and out. The mountains, lakes, and forests reminded her of all the adventures she'd been on since she'd taken off in the Rampion to find said adventures and help people in need along the way.

The noise above her cell intensified and Cress finally sat up to get a better look. Before she could blink, a tile from the ceiling loosened and fell on the ground. A girl— a cyborg—in a jumpsuit fell to the floor. Cress flinched back against the wall. She hadn't seen anyone besides the guards since she'd been put in solitary confinement.

The girl looked highly discouraged and mumbled something about being one cell off, so Cress gave her a weak smile. The girl frowned, though. "Murder?"

"W-what?"

"Did you commit murder?"

Cress's eyes widened. "Stars, no! Never! I'm a fugitive of the American Republic. And a thief, if we're being technical."

"Technical?"

"I only steal to help people."

The girl smacked her head with her hand as if she had water in her eardrums, then squinted at Cress. She nodded once, but then frowned again. "But you stole a spaceship once."

Cress brightened immediately at the thought of her ship. "Everyone needs a vessel for good. And it's a Rampion. Do you know what the word Rampion means? It's a type of plant, just like my name. Cress. It was meant to be." She paused. "Wait, how'd you know I stole that ship? Do you recognize me?"

The girl shook her head. "I have a portscreen in my head. Speaking of...can I use the one lying on your bed? I need to replace a wire in my brain."

Intrigued, Cress handed her the portscreen.

"It's, um, nice to meet you," she said. She hadn't made a lot of friends in jail yet, despite being there for more than half a year, so she thought now might be a nice opportunity when there weren't huge crowds around. "I'm Crescent Darnel, but everyone just calls me Cress, or Captain Cress…but you knew that already," she mumbled.

The girl shook Cress's hand with one hand—the metal one—and took the portscreen with the other. "Cinder."

"Why hello, Master Thorne. You're looking extraordinarily handsome today," said Darla.

"I know," said Thorne cockily. "My beard is really getting thick, isn't it?

"Indeed it is," cooed Darla.

He'd had to manipulate the pitch of his own voice for quite some time to get the programming right on Darla, but Thorne knew it had been worth it. There was nothing like waking up every morning to a sultry compliment from a lady friend. Or, at least, the closest thing to lady friend he'd ever had.

But not for long. The wanted cyborg Linh Cinder would inevitably contact him. And when she did, it would be his chance to finally get off the satellite. Then he would come and go as he pleased and be the master of his own destiny, doing whatever the stars he felt like doing. And, best of all, he would finally get to meet…

Women.

Real women.

Not women on the net. Not women he couldn't interact with. Not women who didn't know how charming and handsome he was.

He was a genius too. And in today's age, who wouldn't fancy themselves the queen's most prized hacker? Furthermore, unlike most guys at sixteen, he'd already had his growth spurt and could easily pass for eighteen or nineteen with the amount of facial hair he had. All the time he'd had to himself on the satellite to do push-ups had only made him even more irresistible.

He was ready.

"Master Thorne, we have a docking request from Mistress Sybil."

Thorne glanced at the fourth invisiscreen, irritation setting in with Darla's words.

Sybil had been visiting more frequently since Linh Cinder had escaped New Beijing Prison. His arm was sprouting a large bruise from the too-frequent drawing of blood, which was one of the worst parts of her visits. He almost fainted every time she came near him with a needle.

It was probably the only thing she could still threaten him with this these days, much to his dismay. Lately, she'd started bringing a stoic blond guard along with her, probably because she'd noticed how much his muscles had developed of late.

Crazy witch was afraid of his strength.

He typed in the commands to allow Sybil access to his satellite and laid down on his rumpled bedsheets, whistling to himself while he waited for her to dock.

She entered his room swiftly, her robe swishing against the floor and the blond guard at her heels. She narrowed her grey eyes at the sight of him on his bed again. "Carswell," she said sharply in that annoying, icy tone of hers.

"When are you finally going to start calling me Thorne?" he asked lazily, draping his leg off the bed in an extra show of nonchalance. He propped up his head under his arms.

"Perhaps when you manage to locate the cyborg, Carswell."

Behind her, the guard smirked.

"You have any idea just how many spaceships are flying around this galaxy? Quite a few." Thorne slowly got up off the bed. He strutted to one of his invisiscreens and punched in some passwords, shrunk the game he had been playing, and pulled up a screen with blinking lights. "And how many ships am I cloaking for Her Majesty? A couple thousand? It's not like I can just snap my fingers and find one missing cyborg."

"And yet you have plenty of time to lie around in bed doing nothing."

Though the thought of it made him want to throw up, he put on his most charming grin as usual. "Just waiting for you to join me, darling." He threw in a suggestive wink for good measure.

Sybil's nostrils flared. "For the thousandth time, Carswell, nothing is going to happen between me and you. Ever."

You bet it's not. "How many times are you going to break my heart before you finally admit your feelings? I know you're the cougar type."

The guard stifled a laugh behind Sybil, making her turn around and glare at him instead. He straightened, his face returning to the neutral look that Thorne was all too familiar with by now. "Nothing to see here, Jacin. The Shell insists he's suffering from Stockholm Syndrome." She turned her glare back on Thorne. "But he is nothing but an insolent child incapable of doing his job!"

Thorne huffed. "No military in the world has managed to find her and they even have spaceships at their disposition! I'm stuck in here with just my codes. Maybe if you let me out on one of Luna's ships, I could participate in a hunt."

Sybil walked to the screen he had open and shrunk it. Then she painstakingly opened all the other tabs individually, closing out every single tab that had a game, a net show, or a suggestive picture. She did this often. "I saved you from a doomed life on Luna, and this is how you repay me? By mocking the important work of the queen by messing around as usual? You will not continue to embarrass me, Carswell. I know what your skills are."

He gestured to the bed. "And yet you continue to turn me down. Such a tease."

She snapped her fingers. "Jacin?"

The guard strode towards the two of them and Thorne knew instantly that the time for jokes was over. He held up his fists, ready to fight, but Jacin pulled out his gun without even engaging. Sybil held up her hand to stop him. "Oh no, Carswell knows I would never end his life. He is too useful." Her lips curled into an evil smile—the one he always wanted to punch off her face. "But I can make his life less pleasant on this satellite if he doesn't perform as is expected of him." Thorne barely had a chance to move before she barked, "Restrain him."

The guard twisted Thorne's arms behind his back, and despite his struggle, the guard was much stronger than he was, just as he had been last week in the same scenario—only then the guard had pinned him to the ground. Jacin probably had the advantage of a few years on him too, along with official combat training, which Thorne would have given anything to have. He was sure the martial arts classes he'd downloaded off the net were nothing compared to boot camp training in a muddy field with two hundred other men, like what he'd seen in war dramas. And if only he knew how to use weapons…

Sybil wouldn't even give him so much as a dull knife to cut his food.

Sybil's evil smile grew and Thorne knew what was coming next. He gritted his teeth and told himself that he would not get squeamish this time. But as Sybil opened up the little black case on the ground with the needles and vials, his knees began getting wobbly. The grip around his arms tightened, and Thorne wished he could slump against the guard but knew that it would only show his weakness even more. Sybil already knew what he thought of getting his blood drawn, though, and she took great pleasure in seeing just how pale his face would get.

Sybil reached for Thorne's left arm—the bruised one—and Jacin rearranged his hold so that he had Thorne pulled back against him by his armpits, his right hand still pinned between them.

"How about we do eight vials this time, Carswell, what do you think?"

She shoved the first needle in without even washing her hands. The sting of it pricking his veins made a bead of sweat run down his neck.

He closed his eyes and thought about Linh Cinder and how he knew exactly where she was. That was his motivation to shut up and let Sybil get on with it, to grin and bear it for just a few more days. The cyborg would be his ticket off this forsaken satellite and he knew just how to get her to come to him.

She just had to initiate the direct communication first.

"You're going to find that cyborg," said Sybil firmly as he felt her begin her fourth vile. "And when you do, I will make our meetings far less painful for you."

"You're…going to have to sweeten the deal," he said, nearly blacking out when he dared to glance down at his arm. "I want…longer showers. Better soap."

Sybil tied the gauze around his arm tightly—too tightly. "Right arm, Jacin. We're only halfway done."

Come on, Linh Cinder, Thorne said to the universe. You owe me.

Luck was finally changing in his favor, because username MECHANIC eventually did request a vidlink with the D-COMM chip. When she'd asked him to accept only twenty minutes earlier, he'd declined and written that he'd needed to take a shower first. Speaking to the cyborg and her companions was of utmost importance, but he wasn't about to let his first impression on three ladies go wasted. From the footage he'd picked up on in Paris, there was also a Lunar special operative aboard the 214 Rampion, Class 11.3 cargo ship. He hoped that none of them had suffered an untimely death at his hands.

His hair mussed back with water and his beard combed thoroughly, Thorne put on his most charming smile and accepted the comm excitedly.

Four faces appeared in front of him, crowded into the screen. Linh Cinder he recognized immediately, then the redhead, Scarlet Benoit, and a wild-looking man whom he could only assume was the special operative.

But Thorne's eyes snagged on the girl in the middle of the camera, who sat in a chair with her hands folded in her lap. Her hair was blonde and cropped to her chin, her skin was sun-kissed, and she had wide blue eyes. It was the girl he'd been waiting to see.

Crescent Darnel.

The internationally-known criminal who captained the Rampion and had escaped New Beijing Prison with Linh Cinder.

In the perception of the public, she was everyone's darling. Whenever she stole something, she made sure to give handouts to children or the needy or both. It was for that reason that many people had protected her identity and location since she'd stolen a spaceship and turned to a life of crime. She had only gotten caught because the police had found one too many notes apologizing to the people she stole from, explaining why her thievery was for the greater good.

But he had researched everything there was to know about Captain Cress, as the people called her, and he was convinced that only he knew the real truth about her.

It had taken him awhile to unseal her files, but once he'd done it, he'd found that her criminal record traced all the way back to her childhood. She'd had excuses for everything back then, too.

Claiming that she stole a necklace so she could fund medroids at a clinic.

Arguing that she'd let a tiger escape from his cage because it shouldn't be locked up in a zoo.

Saying she was actually just helping someone in need with math homework when she'd been suspended for fist-fighting.

They were all really lame excuses. But he'd continued researching all of her exploits up until that fateful day that she'd stolen the Rampion from the American Republic, and he just knew.

Her public persona of do-gooder thief was just an act. No, Crescent Darnel was really a badass. A hot, twenty-year-old badass woman with a bit of a naughty side. She was just like one of the girls on the net he'd always dreamed of meeting.

Of ravishing.

Not that he wouldn't mind hooking up with the other girls, as they were attractive enough. And it wasn't like Crescent was exactly a model, but her face and her past made her the most intriguing of them all. Girls who were always up for breaking the rules were the sexiest of them all.

Currently, Crescent was leaning forward to get a better look at him. Her blue eyes glowed against the light of camera and he gave her a flippant wink of encouragement. She frowned. "Is that all…hair?"

Thorne smiled proudly. "You bet it is. It's been growing non-stop for two years. I bet I can even put your wolf friend to shame."

Scarlet Benoit put her hands on her hips. "Ever heard of shaving?"

"Why shave when you can look like me?"

Linh Cinder cleared her throat. "Um—hello. I'm Cinder. It's nice to see you again. This is Scarlet, Cress, and Wolf."

"Original," said Thorne to Wolf. "I'm Carswell Thorne, but you can call me Thorne."

"I just wanted to thank you again for helping me get to Kai—"

"Yeah, yeah, enough chit chat. When are you coming to get me?"

All four of them stared at him blankly.

"Um," said Cinder again. "We were actually going to tell you that we need your help in proving that Levana's trying to kill Kai."

Thorne held up his hands. "Wait a minute. I helped you save your precious Emperor Kaito from certain death, and now you're going to ask me to help you again without even trying to repay the favor? I saw the footage of you at the ball. I know you have a crush on him, honey."

Cinder grimaced but Crescent's eyes filled with concern. "Repay the favor? Do you…need help?"

"Need help? I'm stuck on a blasted satellite for eight years and she asks if I need help," he said, more to Darla than anyone else.

"You mean you're not on the moon?"

"Stars, no. I'm in orbit over Africa right now. Within Earthen boundaries, I might add."

Cinder exchanged a glance with Scarlet, then Wolf. Crescent looked at him like he was a little puppy.

"I'm afraid we can't risk being caught by Lunars. The last time we talked you said you worked for the queen…"

"But I hate Levana. She's the reason I've been locked up half my life." The doubt on their faces convinced him that he needed to use the one card he'd been holding for a scenario like this. One that Crescent Darnel had probably used many times herself—she just didn't tell anyone.

Blackmail.

He folded his arms across his chest. "You must have been wondering why a big ship like yours hasn't been detected yet." They exchanged more glances. This time the doubt was replaced with worry. He jerked his thumb at his chest. "This is why. I've been deflecting the satellites from your trail since you left New Beijing." He told them their coordinates just in case they didn't believe him.

If he thought they had stared at him before, then he was sorely mistaken. They were gaping at him. Well, except the special operative. He looked annoyed. Still, Thorne couldn't have been prouder.

"Now, while I have your attention," Thorne continued, "let me remind you that this information would fetch a heavy price with almost any bidder. And I've had some bidders."

Now the special operative looked really angry.

It was Crescent who spoke, a placating smile on her face that he wished would turn into the devious smirk he knew was hiding beneath it. "Thorne, surely if you helped Cinder in New Beijing, you wouldn't want to harm her now."

"I don't. But if you all don't decide to come help me, you'll leave me no other choice. The queen knows I can find you, and I'm not going to be able to keep making up excuses as to why I haven't for much longer. I refuse to be shackled to this satellite forever."

"Fine, we'll come get you," said Cinder almost instantaneously.

"Cinder!" said Scarlet.

"He leaves us no choice," said Cinder.

"I'm sure he's just scared," said Crescent.

He was certainly not scared.

"That reminds me," he said, once they had worked out the details of when, where, and how. "I want Crescent to be the one who gets me with the podship."

Crescent stiffened. "First of all, it's just Cress. And second of all, why me?"

"You're the criminal mastermind, aren't you?"

She blushed. It made her cuter.

"I can fly too," said Scarlet. "And shoot."

"It's Cress or no one," he said firmly.

The special operative put a hand on Cress's shoulder, but she shrugged him off. Leaning closer to the screen, she studied him intently. Then, with a quirky smile on her face, she said exactly what he'd been waiting for her to say all along. "It would be my pleasure to rescue you, Carswell Thorne."

"Well then," said Thorne, leaning back in his chair. "I guess this really is my lucky day."