The Other Kind of Roommate
Page 6 of 10
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Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Sat Aug 14, 2010 1:58 am
Xander stepped in only after Gwen got a solid crack at the kid’s face with her arm. At first, he thought it was because it was a way to let her blow off steam without having it go beyond the chance to talk with the guy. He wasn’t going to be much use with a broken jaw, and that was why they’d always been so liberal with the mental overloads: all the pain and motivation they needed to spill their guts went into it minus any serious side-effects, unless ‘irreparable mental trauma’ counted. Around the time Alex realized who he was talking about and that Xander would never stop a fight before it ‘got to the good part’ without a reason, the kid’s face broke out into a furious snarl. He started gnashing his teeth and lurching forward as far as he could while bound. Before Gwen could think about landing another blow – if she’d even meant to land the first one – Xander caught her, grabbed her, then stepped back from the howls of rage erupting from the kid’s throat.
“I’m guessing that’s the banshee again,” he muttered.
Think the syrup’ll get rid of him? Or her or whoever?
“He’s not looking very hungry,” Xander said. “For whatever’s not human flesh, I mean.” He frowned as he thought it over, then let go of Gwen and stepped towards the kid, barely far enough away to avoid the harsh chomping. “Okay. This is interesting.”
Alex wanted to frown. Everything she’d said to the kid, every accusation and every floating thought, hit a chord with him. It must’ve rung in Xander’s head, too. He was an idiot to still be here, what with the Agents on the way and the chance of this guy already being an Agent...
What’re you gonna do?
“Dunno.”
You don’t know? Again? Ask him something!
“Ask him what?” He’d said it flatly, like he wasn’t listening. It was because he wasn’t. He knew it was pointless because of the kid’s Xander-stand-in taking over. Alex knew it too, but he would’ve still done something. They needed answers. “Well – we could try this.”
Another zap, not as sharp as the one Xander had made in the restaurant, but enough to knock the kid out for... He didn’t really know. Without being in control of his body, he couldn’t feel the bridge forming and the force flowing through his eyes. He was about to – if he could’ve – throw his hands in the air and demand what the point of letting ‘David’ talk if they were only going to beat themselves in the face with more questions than anything when, slowly, the young head that’d limply dropped as the banshee went back into hiding twitched and slowly raised.
“Y’know, mate, I can feel that in there. I don’t know if you’re tryin’ t’be careful, but you’re really bad at it.” Oh good. Now the indirectly murderous guy was back instead of the crazy cannibal. “Did she... did she punch me?”
“Elbowed you,” Xander said. “It’s different.”
“And – what... what th’ hell was that? She’s... well... the oth’a one’s not making any noise...” Weakly, he cautiously eyed Alex. “Was’at –”
“Her again.” Gwen got a thumb jerk in her direction. “Trigger happy. I can’t control her – she’s like a loose cannon.”
Now David was beginning to look scared.
“You... did that from all the way over... What - did you use your brain? Was that you in th’ restaurant? I thought he had a tazer!” He recoiled in horror, flattening himself against the back of the chair so heavily that he almost made it fall over. “You can kill me with your brain – that’s your power? Well – lit’le fuckin’ wonder they want you so bad! You’re a monster!”
If Xander was flattered, he wasn’t showing it. He probably was, though.
Tell him to answer, Alex said. We have no idea if we can trust him and we need to get out of here. We can’t spend hours making sure he’s safe if we’re going to leave him behind.
“She brought up a good point,” he said, “in case you didn’t hear through all those fists of fury. You picked up everything you knew from a few bits of paper and a couple of conversations by your bed?”
“Well – don’t make it sound like I was only there for a week,” David protested, sounding more offended than scared. “I was there f’two months, and as th’ most recent of their captures, I was closest to whatever door they were comin’ in. They brought all these... official soundin’ people who, naturally, were interested in th’ same stupid things, so I ‘eard the same five damn answers every oth’a day: what’s his power, who else is goin’ in, what’s their power, what ‘appens if they escape, where’s the rest of th’ files on this stuff? And – y’know – usually it’d be a real quick answer, real brief stuff like ‘it’s fine if they escape ‘cause they can’t make it for long on their own’ or ‘th’ cabinet’s down the hall on the left, second door on th’ right, it’s the big black one and the key’s on th' desk’. Every so often, though, someone would make full use and demand more explanation. That’s ‘ow I found out they weren’t worried about us gettin’ away. Guarded as hell, mate, I’ll say that much, but without th’ strawberry and syrup thing one doc or another insisted on goin’ into full detail about, I don’t think I would’ve lasted a minute on the outside, let alone the week I’ve been runnin’. She was no help either, in case you were wonderin’.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Oh.” The kid’s eyes flashed and he indignantly snorted at Gwen. “As f’ what you wanted t’know, Miss Maniac Brain Blast, I wasn’t ‘like some kid spying’. I had nothing better t’do since they’d kept me in a state of 'unconsciousness'. I floated in’n’out of madness f’four weeks – those conversations were all I had to keep me grounded. S’not like I asked t’be the one they ‘presented’ whenever a higher-up wanted t’know what was goin’ on. And I never said there wasn’t a cure, either! I mean – that part should be obvious!”
Xander latched onto those words immediately.
“‘Obvious’ in what way?”
And now the kid scowled as though he’d already said it a million times.
“If you aren’t th’ host of the body or set up t’be the host by them, then y’can’t get anything but a timer that’ll countdown ‘til you vanish. The only way to ‘cure’ it –” He stopped to roll his eyes again. “– is t’get out of there and get your own body. Be a host yourself – that’s‘ow y’do it.”
Alex felt a painful wave of fear come over him. He trusted Xander enough to know that, for as long as he thought he and Alex were one and the same, they’d be fine. Just from the way David was talking, though, he knew there had to be some kind of idea forming in his roommate’s head. He could guess what it was. If it came down to it, it’d be a fight to the death. The horrifying reality was, powers or not, Alex didn’t know if he could win.
“How the hell would you do that?”
He didn’t like that question. Alex didn’t like that question at all.
“I don’t know,” David luckily answered. “I guess you’d do what those people did gettin’ me in here. You’d ‘ave to change it somehow, either make it more of a transf’a so you’re not just donatin' your powers or drop into a body that’s unoccupied. They’ve got rows and rows of ‘em, y’know. Like I said, they keep 'em all in jars, all the bodies of whoever was transferred and whatnot. Sentimental, I suppose, but it’s really creepy. I ‘adn’t ‘eard a damn thing about it from anyone so, when I got up an’ started walkin’ around, I was face-to-face with the handful of successes and the thousands of failures in minutes. And I mean thousands - literally thousands, and you would not believe how many of my kind of people they’ve hunted down and tried t’do this to. This process they’ve come up with... It was not an overnight thing. It must’ve been goin’ on f’decades, and just remembering ‘ow pissed they were when one o’ the blokes supposed t’be in here didn’t take, I can just guess how furious it made them to go through so many different people without a lick of luck. Well – persistence is everything, right? They did it. In the final, bitter end, they did it, and I’m the newest leap t’wards –”
“Blah, blah, you’re special. Where was the place they had you? Are you seriously trying to say you ran around for a day and never found an address?”
“If I’m not stupid enough t’spend the whole day readin’ files – and I simply gave a cursory glance over th’ones I did read and then stuffed the important bits in my bag – I’m not wastin’ my time tryin’ t’ look th’ place up. The point’s never t’go back there again. The less I know about it, th’ better.”
“Right. Great.”
Alex knew it was a matter of self-preservation, but the disappointment in Xander’s voice in not knowing where the lab got to him.
Okay, he’s not helpful anymore. We’ve got two minutes left, so let’s –
“He’s coming with us.”
What?
“He’s coming with us,” Xander repeated. “We’re gonna find that lab and he’s gonna show us where the hell everything is.”
Xander, I know you say a lot of crazy things, I know you like living on the edge or whatever, but that, even for you, is the most suicidally terrifying thing that’s ever come out of your mouth. We’re not taking him! He doesn’t –
“The goggles." He turned to Gwen. “If you can find the Agents on that thing, you can find their headquarters. The information has to be in there somewhere.”
Alex’s head hurt at the thought of it. The headache still had yet to hit, but he felt a yawning at the edge of his mind that seemed to assure him it was on his way.
You exploded when Peter betrayed you and you freaked when I told Gwen. None of that – neither of those two things – hammered into your head what a bad idea it was to let more people know who you are? Xander wasn't talking to him. Answer me!
“The lesson I learned is that I can kill anyone who gets in my way.” And he was completely serious. His voice was cold and still. For the first real minute of the day, Alex remembered who Xander was – merciless and lethal, exactly like an Agent was supposed to be. The spurt of warmth in the guy’s next words seemed to miss the mark of sounding calm. “You’re panicking again. Cut it out. So he’s got a few powers. He can’t even use them.”
“Well, actually –” Every tray still on the cart blew up like a grenade had been stuffed down the throat of each of them. The violent noise scared the shit of Alex, and Xander, despite himself, jumped too. The silverware was suddenly black and they’d shot off into the air to land with an ear-ringing clatter. Bits of pancake flew everywhere and the pitchers of syrup and bowls of fruit had been decimated. It took them a minute to catch their breaths, and by the time Xander looked back at David, the kid was grinning like a fox who’d found a limping squirrel. “I told you, mate - their powers might be inaccessible, but I’m here ‘cause I’ve got a gift of my own. And if you don’t let me go, I won’t waste a second usin’ ‘em on you. Come on, brain-girl! Y’think that’ll work if y’don’t ‘ave a head on your shoulders?”
David went limp and stopped talking. Xander shut him up with another fierce mental push. Then unbelievably – psychotically! – he started to untie the guy.
“We’re taking him. It’s not like we’re running in any real direction anyway,” he said. “Gwen, find whatever the fuck he was talking about. We’re going. And we’re going right now.” Without another word, he grabbed his bag from the floor and swung it over his shoulder, then picked up David and threw him over the other. ‘At least’ he had the decency to say, “If anything goes wrong, I’ll kill him.”
Believe me, that’s not the part I’m worried about.
Benoit had held off answering until Jean had taken them to the first, halfway decent area to eat he drove by. His lead seemed deep in thought, turning over both ideas in his mind and judging them expertly. More than anyone, he had absolute insight into everything Alexander was capable of. No one was better prepared to call the final order than him. As such, Jean was content to let him think in silence, even as the boy behind them continued to be a pest.
“I think I’ll pass on eating...”
He’d said it quietly, as though he hadn’t wanted to bother anyone. Jean gritted his teeth. If that was true, he would have been quiet in the first place. Benoit might have been friendly enough to attribute the choked breathing and low, quick moans to the child’s loss, but while he would never dare to say as much out loud, his lead had neglected the very honest fact that Jason had brought this on himself. Jean had no sympathy to give. Fortunately for everyone around him, it was not his job to do so.
“I have decided,” Benoit said, after they had entered the gentle bistro and settled in their seats. “There is no use of a plan hinging on Alexander. If he has not used his powers by now, a chance I find slim at best, it is unlikely we will find him before he does. As such, I am delighted to hear your alternative.”
“Sir?” A wirey man had bounded up to their table and stood at Jean’s side. He was talking to Benoit, however, and he knew the problem before the server had finished speaking. “There’s no smoking in here.”
“Jean.”
So Jean threw his fist out and squarely slugged the idiot in his gut. As the server doubled over, he calmly took his gun out and pointed it at the man’s foot.
“Go away,” Jean said.
The man did not leave. For some reason, he was in pain.
“Honestly, Jean, I can’t take you anywhere. Pay him.”
Oh.
So he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills. Three... four hundred. It should have been enough. He put it in the server’s hand, who graciously accepted before hobbling away. How undignified.
“I think we may have a new server this morning,” he said.
“I think you may be right.” Benoit was laughing into his cigarette, which he proudly continued to smoke. “If you can do as you say, Miss Agent, your idea is sound. These ‘seeds of doubt’... I forget not every case is as complicated as mine. The simplest plans often have merit outside of his involvement.” He politely nodded. “Things have changed. She gives him a weakness. This could work.”
There was a growing air of excitement around Jean’s lead. The woman’s thinly veiled hunger to wrap up this work and claim what was hers was catching.
“Provided,” Jean put in, returning them to realistic expectations, “he has a need for her. Even a ‘want’ would suffice. We have no proof of either.”
“Jean, have you seen this girl? You have access to that part of the profile,” Benoit said. “I say it can be done. The flaw I gave him on its own is enough to assume he would keep her near. Unfortunately...” He paused to decide how to phrase his words. “I cannot say with certainty he has enough concern for her to risk his life. The host, perhaps, but Alexander-the-guest is... fickle with his trust. Your target was stalked once before? And how long has that fear taken to wear off? Imagine it with him, but stronger, more prevalent and constantly reinforced. There is no sense in risking the sake of this plan to have him abandon her and run to higher ground. I would wait, if you feel you can bear it.”
She didn't have to, Jean knew. Either plan gave the woman and her pet full access to their target. In a way, they would be doing Benoit a favour by offering up their case as bait. Charming, really, and Jean appreciated the sentiment, but he took offence at the implication; they were more than equipped enough to handle this on their own.
“You’re not ordering that,” Jean grunted. “The main ingredient is butter.”
“Jean, who is in charge of this case?”
“You are, Benoit.”
“And if I want to eat butter, who are you to say otherwise?” Jean frowned at him. Benoit his gave his menu up. “I may shoot you if you order something shit like salad.”
“Duly noted.”
If it weren’t for Jean, the man would have died years ago from a heart attack long before Alexander factored in. It was a thankless job, but it was his.
“I’m guessing that’s the banshee again,” he muttered.
Think the syrup’ll get rid of him? Or her or whoever?
“He’s not looking very hungry,” Xander said. “For whatever’s not human flesh, I mean.” He frowned as he thought it over, then let go of Gwen and stepped towards the kid, barely far enough away to avoid the harsh chomping. “Okay. This is interesting.”
Alex wanted to frown. Everything she’d said to the kid, every accusation and every floating thought, hit a chord with him. It must’ve rung in Xander’s head, too. He was an idiot to still be here, what with the Agents on the way and the chance of this guy already being an Agent...
What’re you gonna do?
“Dunno.”
You don’t know? Again? Ask him something!
“Ask him what?” He’d said it flatly, like he wasn’t listening. It was because he wasn’t. He knew it was pointless because of the kid’s Xander-stand-in taking over. Alex knew it too, but he would’ve still done something. They needed answers. “Well – we could try this.”
Another zap, not as sharp as the one Xander had made in the restaurant, but enough to knock the kid out for... He didn’t really know. Without being in control of his body, he couldn’t feel the bridge forming and the force flowing through his eyes. He was about to – if he could’ve – throw his hands in the air and demand what the point of letting ‘David’ talk if they were only going to beat themselves in the face with more questions than anything when, slowly, the young head that’d limply dropped as the banshee went back into hiding twitched and slowly raised.
“Y’know, mate, I can feel that in there. I don’t know if you’re tryin’ t’be careful, but you’re really bad at it.” Oh good. Now the indirectly murderous guy was back instead of the crazy cannibal. “Did she... did she punch me?”
“Elbowed you,” Xander said. “It’s different.”
“And – what... what th’ hell was that? She’s... well... the oth’a one’s not making any noise...” Weakly, he cautiously eyed Alex. “Was’at –”
“Her again.” Gwen got a thumb jerk in her direction. “Trigger happy. I can’t control her – she’s like a loose cannon.”
Now David was beginning to look scared.
“You... did that from all the way over... What - did you use your brain? Was that you in th’ restaurant? I thought he had a tazer!” He recoiled in horror, flattening himself against the back of the chair so heavily that he almost made it fall over. “You can kill me with your brain – that’s your power? Well – lit’le fuckin’ wonder they want you so bad! You’re a monster!”
If Xander was flattered, he wasn’t showing it. He probably was, though.
Tell him to answer, Alex said. We have no idea if we can trust him and we need to get out of here. We can’t spend hours making sure he’s safe if we’re going to leave him behind.
“She brought up a good point,” he said, “in case you didn’t hear through all those fists of fury. You picked up everything you knew from a few bits of paper and a couple of conversations by your bed?”
“Well – don’t make it sound like I was only there for a week,” David protested, sounding more offended than scared. “I was there f’two months, and as th’ most recent of their captures, I was closest to whatever door they were comin’ in. They brought all these... official soundin’ people who, naturally, were interested in th’ same stupid things, so I ‘eard the same five damn answers every oth’a day: what’s his power, who else is goin’ in, what’s their power, what ‘appens if they escape, where’s the rest of th’ files on this stuff? And – y’know – usually it’d be a real quick answer, real brief stuff like ‘it’s fine if they escape ‘cause they can’t make it for long on their own’ or ‘th’ cabinet’s down the hall on the left, second door on th’ right, it’s the big black one and the key’s on th' desk’. Every so often, though, someone would make full use and demand more explanation. That’s ‘ow I found out they weren’t worried about us gettin’ away. Guarded as hell, mate, I’ll say that much, but without th’ strawberry and syrup thing one doc or another insisted on goin’ into full detail about, I don’t think I would’ve lasted a minute on the outside, let alone the week I’ve been runnin’. She was no help either, in case you were wonderin’.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Oh.” The kid’s eyes flashed and he indignantly snorted at Gwen. “As f’ what you wanted t’know, Miss Maniac Brain Blast, I wasn’t ‘like some kid spying’. I had nothing better t’do since they’d kept me in a state of 'unconsciousness'. I floated in’n’out of madness f’four weeks – those conversations were all I had to keep me grounded. S’not like I asked t’be the one they ‘presented’ whenever a higher-up wanted t’know what was goin’ on. And I never said there wasn’t a cure, either! I mean – that part should be obvious!”
Xander latched onto those words immediately.
“‘Obvious’ in what way?”
And now the kid scowled as though he’d already said it a million times.
“If you aren’t th’ host of the body or set up t’be the host by them, then y’can’t get anything but a timer that’ll countdown ‘til you vanish. The only way to ‘cure’ it –” He stopped to roll his eyes again. “– is t’get out of there and get your own body. Be a host yourself – that’s‘ow y’do it.”
Alex felt a painful wave of fear come over him. He trusted Xander enough to know that, for as long as he thought he and Alex were one and the same, they’d be fine. Just from the way David was talking, though, he knew there had to be some kind of idea forming in his roommate’s head. He could guess what it was. If it came down to it, it’d be a fight to the death. The horrifying reality was, powers or not, Alex didn’t know if he could win.
“How the hell would you do that?”
He didn’t like that question. Alex didn’t like that question at all.
“I don’t know,” David luckily answered. “I guess you’d do what those people did gettin’ me in here. You’d ‘ave to change it somehow, either make it more of a transf’a so you’re not just donatin' your powers or drop into a body that’s unoccupied. They’ve got rows and rows of ‘em, y’know. Like I said, they keep 'em all in jars, all the bodies of whoever was transferred and whatnot. Sentimental, I suppose, but it’s really creepy. I ‘adn’t ‘eard a damn thing about it from anyone so, when I got up an’ started walkin’ around, I was face-to-face with the handful of successes and the thousands of failures in minutes. And I mean thousands - literally thousands, and you would not believe how many of my kind of people they’ve hunted down and tried t’do this to. This process they’ve come up with... It was not an overnight thing. It must’ve been goin’ on f’decades, and just remembering ‘ow pissed they were when one o’ the blokes supposed t’be in here didn’t take, I can just guess how furious it made them to go through so many different people without a lick of luck. Well – persistence is everything, right? They did it. In the final, bitter end, they did it, and I’m the newest leap t’wards –”
“Blah, blah, you’re special. Where was the place they had you? Are you seriously trying to say you ran around for a day and never found an address?”
“If I’m not stupid enough t’spend the whole day readin’ files – and I simply gave a cursory glance over th’ones I did read and then stuffed the important bits in my bag – I’m not wastin’ my time tryin’ t’ look th’ place up. The point’s never t’go back there again. The less I know about it, th’ better.”
“Right. Great.”
Alex knew it was a matter of self-preservation, but the disappointment in Xander’s voice in not knowing where the lab got to him.
Okay, he’s not helpful anymore. We’ve got two minutes left, so let’s –
“He’s coming with us.”
What?
“He’s coming with us,” Xander repeated. “We’re gonna find that lab and he’s gonna show us where the hell everything is.”
Xander, I know you say a lot of crazy things, I know you like living on the edge or whatever, but that, even for you, is the most suicidally terrifying thing that’s ever come out of your mouth. We’re not taking him! He doesn’t –
“The goggles." He turned to Gwen. “If you can find the Agents on that thing, you can find their headquarters. The information has to be in there somewhere.”
Alex’s head hurt at the thought of it. The headache still had yet to hit, but he felt a yawning at the edge of his mind that seemed to assure him it was on his way.
You exploded when Peter betrayed you and you freaked when I told Gwen. None of that – neither of those two things – hammered into your head what a bad idea it was to let more people know who you are? Xander wasn't talking to him. Answer me!
“The lesson I learned is that I can kill anyone who gets in my way.” And he was completely serious. His voice was cold and still. For the first real minute of the day, Alex remembered who Xander was – merciless and lethal, exactly like an Agent was supposed to be. The spurt of warmth in the guy’s next words seemed to miss the mark of sounding calm. “You’re panicking again. Cut it out. So he’s got a few powers. He can’t even use them.”
“Well, actually –” Every tray still on the cart blew up like a grenade had been stuffed down the throat of each of them. The violent noise scared the shit of Alex, and Xander, despite himself, jumped too. The silverware was suddenly black and they’d shot off into the air to land with an ear-ringing clatter. Bits of pancake flew everywhere and the pitchers of syrup and bowls of fruit had been decimated. It took them a minute to catch their breaths, and by the time Xander looked back at David, the kid was grinning like a fox who’d found a limping squirrel. “I told you, mate - their powers might be inaccessible, but I’m here ‘cause I’ve got a gift of my own. And if you don’t let me go, I won’t waste a second usin’ ‘em on you. Come on, brain-girl! Y’think that’ll work if y’don’t ‘ave a head on your shoulders?”
David went limp and stopped talking. Xander shut him up with another fierce mental push. Then unbelievably – psychotically! – he started to untie the guy.
“We’re taking him. It’s not like we’re running in any real direction anyway,” he said. “Gwen, find whatever the fuck he was talking about. We’re going. And we’re going right now.” Without another word, he grabbed his bag from the floor and swung it over his shoulder, then picked up David and threw him over the other. ‘At least’ he had the decency to say, “If anything goes wrong, I’ll kill him.”
Believe me, that’s not the part I’m worried about.
* * *
Benoit had held off answering until Jean had taken them to the first, halfway decent area to eat he drove by. His lead seemed deep in thought, turning over both ideas in his mind and judging them expertly. More than anyone, he had absolute insight into everything Alexander was capable of. No one was better prepared to call the final order than him. As such, Jean was content to let him think in silence, even as the boy behind them continued to be a pest.
“I think I’ll pass on eating...”
He’d said it quietly, as though he hadn’t wanted to bother anyone. Jean gritted his teeth. If that was true, he would have been quiet in the first place. Benoit might have been friendly enough to attribute the choked breathing and low, quick moans to the child’s loss, but while he would never dare to say as much out loud, his lead had neglected the very honest fact that Jason had brought this on himself. Jean had no sympathy to give. Fortunately for everyone around him, it was not his job to do so.
“I have decided,” Benoit said, after they had entered the gentle bistro and settled in their seats. “There is no use of a plan hinging on Alexander. If he has not used his powers by now, a chance I find slim at best, it is unlikely we will find him before he does. As such, I am delighted to hear your alternative.”
“Sir?” A wirey man had bounded up to their table and stood at Jean’s side. He was talking to Benoit, however, and he knew the problem before the server had finished speaking. “There’s no smoking in here.”
“Jean.”
So Jean threw his fist out and squarely slugged the idiot in his gut. As the server doubled over, he calmly took his gun out and pointed it at the man’s foot.
“Go away,” Jean said.
The man did not leave. For some reason, he was in pain.
“Honestly, Jean, I can’t take you anywhere. Pay him.”
Oh.
So he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills. Three... four hundred. It should have been enough. He put it in the server’s hand, who graciously accepted before hobbling away. How undignified.
“I think we may have a new server this morning,” he said.
“I think you may be right.” Benoit was laughing into his cigarette, which he proudly continued to smoke. “If you can do as you say, Miss Agent, your idea is sound. These ‘seeds of doubt’... I forget not every case is as complicated as mine. The simplest plans often have merit outside of his involvement.” He politely nodded. “Things have changed. She gives him a weakness. This could work.”
There was a growing air of excitement around Jean’s lead. The woman’s thinly veiled hunger to wrap up this work and claim what was hers was catching.
“Provided,” Jean put in, returning them to realistic expectations, “he has a need for her. Even a ‘want’ would suffice. We have no proof of either.”
“Jean, have you seen this girl? You have access to that part of the profile,” Benoit said. “I say it can be done. The flaw I gave him on its own is enough to assume he would keep her near. Unfortunately...” He paused to decide how to phrase his words. “I cannot say with certainty he has enough concern for her to risk his life. The host, perhaps, but Alexander-the-guest is... fickle with his trust. Your target was stalked once before? And how long has that fear taken to wear off? Imagine it with him, but stronger, more prevalent and constantly reinforced. There is no sense in risking the sake of this plan to have him abandon her and run to higher ground. I would wait, if you feel you can bear it.”
She didn't have to, Jean knew. Either plan gave the woman and her pet full access to their target. In a way, they would be doing Benoit a favour by offering up their case as bait. Charming, really, and Jean appreciated the sentiment, but he took offence at the implication; they were more than equipped enough to handle this on their own.
“You’re not ordering that,” Jean grunted. “The main ingredient is butter.”
“Jean, who is in charge of this case?”
“You are, Benoit.”
“And if I want to eat butter, who are you to say otherwise?” Jean frowned at him. Benoit his gave his menu up. “I may shoot you if you order something shit like salad.”
“Duly noted.”
If it weren’t for Jean, the man would have died years ago from a heart attack long before Alexander factored in. It was a thankless job, but it was his.
Last edited by Tartra on Wed Jan 25, 2012 3:02 am; edited 2 times in total (Reason for editing : Typo)
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Sat Aug 14, 2010 10:37 pm
Stephanie waited patiently for Benoit to go over the plans she'd proposed. His input was important to her, especially when it concerned Alexander. If he thought it was more important to wait and take their time then she would take it slow and wait for the right opportunities instead of forcing herself to plan for situations she could not foresee yet. If the chance came up however, and there was an opening, she'd take it whether Alexander was a present threat or not. She had to.
In the silence of the car her attention was drawn to Jason as he murmured his plans to skip another meal and in her deeper mental layers she felt a burst of concern. He hadn't eaten anything except the nutrition bar she'd given him yesterday either. This was not good. She could tell from the way he said it that he was probably having difficulty connecting with anything other than the desire to have his goggles returned, but the threat it posed if he continued to deny himself the basic necessities worried her. The other men on their team already thought it was useless to bring him along - and under normal circumstances, she'd agree - so if he continued to make himself a weakness, there was no doubt it would reflect badly on her to keep him around. Even though she liked him, she was not going to let Jason make her look like a weak link in the Agency.
Seated comfortably in the cozy restaurant the other two men had chosen, Stephanie began to look through the menu when Benoit finally spoke, drawing her attention instantly. Alright, so that was good news. She figured that her first plan was a long shot with how they described Alexander's current habitual use of his powers, but she'd had a slim hope that it would have worked - she so desperately wanted to try and get Gwen within her clutches again, even just to make the attempt - which was why she'd suggested the second idea she'd had.
The conversation was momentarily disrupted as a waiter approached the table to advise Benoit about the cigarette he still had between his lips. Stephanie blinked apathetically as Jean proceeded to punch and then threaten the man before being corrected by his lead. For once, she felt a boost of pride that even as conceited and arrogant as Jean played himself out to be, he was still just unsophisticated muscle and the opportunities where it showed were pleasing to watch. He didn't seem too unraveled by the situation and that was the only sobering thing about it - he did not realize how foolish he made himself seem to her and her 'lowly' companion.
Setting the menu aside as she listened to what else Benoit had to say, she was inwardly satisfied that he approved. Even the concerns he brought up about whether or not Alexander would even be drawn to Gwen as bait were reasonable and despite the urgency she felt - and the lack of need for her to risk her target for their case - she felt drawn to help them out. After all these years of constantly chasing after Alexander and failed attempts to recapture the man, Gwen presented a very real weakness that could end up being the success for both of them. Why not share the wealth and help them out? Afterall, they were all on a team right now, working together.
"I do not mind waiting," she said plainly, not even looking in Jason's direction as she spoke. "It's been about 24 hours and right now the connection is still fresh and new and pumped full of adrenaline. I'll give her a bit more time to solidify something on his end and then we'll move forward. It might take her a while to gather up enough courage and confidence to make a second attempt at spying, anyways."
Picking up her own menu, she began to look through it more thoroughly, picking out the things she wanted. When the newly appointed waiter came by, an uneasy, yet polite smile coming to his face, she instantly chimed in with her orders. "I will get the stuffed French toast with a few sausage links on the side. And he," she nodded lightly in Jason's direction. "Will have the breakfast sampler, please." Without another look at their server, she folded up her menu and pushed it to the edge of the table. While Benoit and Jean went over their orders, she leaned in close to Jason and spoke low in his ear. There was very little chance that the two men across from them wouldn't eavesdrop even if she left with him for a moment, so she kept her conversation brief and without too much prejudice against their team-mates.
"I am growing impatient with you. You may think that your presence is necessary, but let me assure you, at this moment in time, that couldn't be further from the truth," her voice was barely above a whisper but even so it held no inflection, her tone flat and dead. "Currently, you're being tolerated with the hope of eventually reconnecting you with what you have lost - if it is at all still useful to you - so that you may finish your job and do what you have been assigned to do. And make no mistake, Jason, right now your purpose is to serve me and aid ME in capturing the target. I don't pretend to know what you're going through right now but you have not stopped possessing the potential for what I need."
"You are the only one on my team left who knows almost as much about Gwen as I do - besides our current company - and I trust you, above all others. I need you by my side and I need you in the best shape you can be in to help me with this. In return, I will do my best to help you with whatever you're going through, but if all you're going to be is something for me to trip over while I pursue her, then I will end your misery right here and now, myself. So," she sat back just a little bit, still speaking in those low tones. "You will choke down the breakfast I have ordered for you the best that you can and keep your energy and strength up. Do you understand?"
She was and always had been a terrible babysitter.
Blinking in surprise and still hyper-sensitive from the adrenaline pumping through her, Gwen tried to make sense of what Xander was now talking about - not to her, of course, he was still ignoring her because she was fucking useless, but to Alex whom was still lost in the fuzzy crinkling that would not fade from her internal ears. However from the tone he took with some of his responses, he was only half-listening to Alex either and she found herself frustrated with him, even as she was frustrated with herself. She couldn't take this anymore. Was he concerned about what was going on or not? Did he care that Agents were on their way? Did he care that this fool had so many holes in his story they could wear it to a polka dot ball and be the height of fashion?
But when he stepped forward and sent a frying pulse into the kid's brain again, Gwen didn't have a moment to continue feeling worried, a tiny gasp leaving her as she felt the mental poke searing through the teenager's skull filling her own along with it. Things didn't immediately rush back to her, slowly fading in like an old television set being turned on, the picture becoming more solid and clear after a few minutes of warming up. Occasionally she was aware of being addressed by David but she was barely acknowledging either of them anymore as visions of what he was thinking and remembering flashed before her eyes, growing more frequent as her powers gained back their lost strength.
Xander pressed the questions she'd asked in her fit of paranoia and a soft picture formed in her mind of the facility David had been in - sterile floors and white sheeted beds, with smooth, shining metallic surfaces and glass sealed walls. Most of the time the images were fuzzy, as if half-seen through closed eyelids, an occasional drowsy flutter of eyelashes that left everything blurry. But at one point, she did see the room he was in more clearly and she assumed that was when he was finally making his escape. Before that however, he was strapped to a bed, the body restrained - it didn't matter, he couldn't move his limbs anyways. He was stuck so deep inside, it was like he was a part of the body and not, sensations felt through a thick fog and control nonexistent.
The memory jumped over spans of moments and days and through the haze she heard voices echoing into his consciousness - doctors, she immediately thought, but something more, almost military. Their shiny black shoes clacked heavily over the tiled floors as they walked in a group towards the bedside, approving smiles and interrogative paranoia in their voices - depending on who was speaking. It was like they were talking about a top secret weapon being developed half the time and the other half it was like they were discussing an alien autopsy - their voices matter-of-fact and distant but with a measure of curiosity that hinted at fear and a desire to control.
Everything she saw up to this point confirmed the words that came out of his mouth and she almost jumped for joy in the middle of the room with the burst of excitement that coursed through her. He was telling the truth! And she knew it! God, it had been so scary to feel so alone and empty, Agents breathing down their necks, feeling like this was a repeat of the situations Alex and Xander had described to her before, everyone a possible enemy and everyone looking to victimize her. And now she knew - she KNEW what was real and what was not! That, more than the fact that he was telling the truth made her extremely happy.
With a sigh of relief escaping her lips, she listened alertly to the rest of their conversation, allowing more visions to fill her head as he spoke - Gwen's smile faltered as she got a look at the section of the facility where the bodies were kept, every bone inside her clattering with a sudden chill. Rows and rows of sleeping bodies in liquid filled tanks standing in the room in endless lines, like packed sardines, each one glowing with an unearthly yellow green and the room filled with a threaded hum like a giant beast's lungs filling and emptying all around her.
How many people was that? In the room she occupied in the memory, the containers nearby on the one end of the room she was standing said #H07-0585-LPK and #H07-0584-LIP etc. and the rows spread out before her by the thousands. Somehow, intuitively, she knew this wasn't the only room they had like this and it made her feel ill to think of how many were failures and how many were successes. How were they allowed to do this without anyone knowing or even suspecting? How could they even get away with it? Who were these people?
Gwen was shaken from the memory with Xander's new announcement that their companion was now joining their group and for once she was only slightly dismayed by his decision. She found herself more distracted by the direction he gave her about the goggles she still had on around her neck than she was concerned about the kid anymore. Find out where they were keeping the tanks of people - that she could most certainly do, and she was excited to try now that she was feeling useful again. But she stopped once more, distracted by the new points that Alex brought up. He was right. David's reaction to Xander's decision was not whole-heartedly with them - although there was a mixture of excitement that he'd be released, he was also trepidatious about accompanying them with what he thought Gwen could do. There was a threat there...as if he felt he needed to protect himself in some way and was planning to leave them when he got the chance, and she knew he'd fight them tooth and nail if they tried to stop him or posed any danger to him. He would not be caught like this again, not by them or anyone else.
Xander's response however sent a shiver up her spine with the deathly hollow tone he took while he said it, no remorse in his voice, just plain, terse, death-like promise. Life was merely an obstacle to him. Like a mirror, she could feel that same shiver run through both Alex and their new friend, although the teenager's thought processes jumped a lot more defensively than Alex's did. She knew what he was going to do before it happened and even though the trays and cart were a foot or two away, she stepped back reflexively as everything on it exploded with loud metal clangs and pops as tray covers and plates spontaneously combusted, food and heated strawberry sauce and syrup flying everywhere and splattering walls like carnage from a car bomb. She could feel the satisfaction coursing through David and she shrunk back a little bit at his threat, before another gasp left her when Xander sliced into the guy's head again with a quick, forceful jolt. Well, there was always that.
David slumped down in his chair instantly, no more thoughts or emotions coming from him or the other occupant of his mind, just dead emptiness emitting the slow hum of life. At Xander's direction, she stopped staring into space and instantly started to slip the goggles back onto her face.
"Let's hope that if anything does go wrong, you'll still have that option," she said in a sardonic tone, as her vision filled with orange light. It was right about then that she realized she was hearing Alex's internal voice speaking and in a burst of excitement she said,
Alex!
For a few moments, she just stood there, realizing she hadn't spoken aloud but felt like he'd still heard her. She didn't know how to recreate the effect, repeating in her mind a few times, Hello? Hello? Can you hear me now? before she realized it was not the same and gave up. Oh, well. Just another weird thing...
Looking around the room, the little blurbs of information popped up all over the place and with a quick mental swipe she stopped it from doing that while clearing them away. So, he wanted her to find the place David had been kept, the facility with the rows of bodies - no doubt to find his own and get back into it, like David had said - which was a plan she whole-heartedly agreed with. Enough of this double body and mind crap. People weren't meant to share forms like this, which was no doubt why Xander was spiraling out of control, and after everything he'd done for her, she wanted to help him out as well.
And also, she really wanted to help Alex. He was in her exact same place with people wanting to do things to him because of the powers he possessed, except he'd actually been taken already, always shoved aside and tossed around like a rag doll within his own body. He shouldn't have to share and what the Agency had done to him was unfair, especially when he was hanging onto the coattails of a dying man. She didn't understand why they were doing this - if they knew the risks and that people were dying because of the transfers, then why continue? She only saw it as the pursuit of knowledge and trying to kill off those they perceived as dangerous; Experimentation on people for the sake of it. Once they'd returned Alex and Xander to normal - if -, if there was an opportunity to stop them from continuing to do this, she wanted to take it.
Not really sure what she was looking for yet, Gwen opened up the main navigation screen in the goggles and started looking through the options for anything having to do with location or an incubation facility or even a lab. Every time she thought she'd found what she was looking for, a new screen popped up blocking her access by asking for a code of some kind. Something she did not have.
A groan of irritation left her lips as she made her way to the couch and sat down. "Just...hang on a minute... This is going to take a little while..." she bit her lips nervously as she thought over what she had to do - she needed the codes from somebody who knew them. Xander might know but he was currently busy and he was expecting her to come up with answers quickly. After her recent erratic behavior and his own trouble with connecting with the goggles - which still might have an averse affect on him and cause him to slow down even further - she couldn't ask him to put them on and try again. He was depending on her.
So, she worked with what she had. Only hesitating for a moment longer, she brought up the previous connection that had been made with the glasses Stephanie had been wearing. The breath she'd been holding came out in a rush as she realized the woman was no longer wearing them but although they were no longer on her face, they were in a semi-sleep mode and she could see through them still. Well, that plan was a bust, and she was just about to give up and ask Xander for help when it occurred to her, Stephanie hadn't been the only one wearing glasses in the car when Gwen had spied on her earlier. Both Benoit and the driver had been wearing them and also...the sickly man who'd been in the seat next to her. The previous owner of the goggles would have that information! What had been his name? It was a J something; John? James? Joseph? She couldn't remember.
Looking through Stephanie's glasses, there was a small option that led to another open connection with the name "Jean" above it. Yes! Jean! That had been it! Clicking on it, Gwen was taken away from the link with Stephanie's glasses and put in contact with someone else's. Looking through the guy's glasses, she instantly knew that it was the man who'd been looking ill in the backseat, as when he looked around the table he was sitting at, it visually accounted for the other people who'd been in the car with him. After being in this viewpoint with Stephanie, it was odd seeing the woman's face and body as she sat next to the hunched over young man. Biting her lips even harder, Gwen took in a deep breath and pressed forward into the guy's mind, making sure to keep silent and slithering through his consciousness like a wraith, a barely felt shadow.
The first thing that hit her was the realization that his name was not "Jean". It was "Jason". Of course! That was Stephanie's partner, the man who'd previously owned the goggles and whom the anonymous textspeaker "Gary" had mentioned as well. But why was he wearing Jean's glasses? From the man's thoughts and emotions, Gwen was able to identify the unnamed Frenchman, the companion to this Benoit character, as Jean and not just from deduction either. Amidst the illness and aching longing that filled Jason, she could feel a sense of contempt for both men on the other side of the table - something about a sort of rivalry and being treated as less than person. Apparently, the guy's on Alex and Xander's trail were jerks - according to Jason, anyways.
There were also thoughts of the goggles she was now wearing and once again, Gwen found herself taken aback by the feverish obsession that throbbed within him when he considered the missing part of his "suit". Just as there had been with Stephanie, there was an almost inhuman level to the grotesque need inside him, obliterating to a degree the parts of him that were even a man - he became this feeling of need and longing and yearning, every nerve in his body screaming to be reconnected with the technology they'd lost, making her rub her arms in reflex.
What was wrong with these people? Jesus... The emotions were brought somewhat back down to earth by the feelings of hate he had for whomever currently had the goggles and a lot of anxiety and worry about his fate if they were not returned to him. There was a sense of sympathy inside her towards his plight, but she did not let it go further than that. These were the people looking for her. They sought to turn her into whatever was currently happening to Xander. It was either her or them and anything she could do to cripple them and keep them a few more steps behind was worth not getting her brain smooshed with someone else's.
Back in the hotel room, she felt an electric tremor shoot up her spine and knew that the front desk had the taxi out front waiting for them. A second later, the phone in the room rang and looking in Xander's direction, she clicked her fingers and pointed at it, silently mouthing "Taxi", being sure not to say it aloud. She didn't know if Jason would be able to hear or not, but she didn't want him to know about her presence before she was ready for him to. It didn't matter because a moment later she came to the realization that without the goggles, there was very slim chance he was going to consciously think about the codes to open up the lab and facility files. That meant she'd have to go digging in memories he wasn't currently thinking about.
But of course, she didn't know she'd be detected by doing that before she actually made the attempt, leaving the sphere of his conscious focus and delving into the unoccupied parts of his mind. Following a trail of thought about the goggles, she came upon the section where his memory of using them was kept, her psychic presence shoving through the darkness and probing through the unimportant information. Some of it, she picked out and stowed away in her own mind, but she stopped doing that once she sensed he knew something was wrong. Then she was speeding through it all, going as fast as she could, not caring if he could feel her or knew what she was doing. Then...he began to do odd things...
It was nothing like it had been with Stephanie, although the guy did try to shut down a few layers of his mind, she did not feel them getting closer to her like she had in the female Agent's mind. It was more like he'd slam a few internal doors and then...slam them again, as if he were having trouble keeping them closed. The noise was unsettling but it did not bother her. What DID bother her was now his focus was situated right on top of her and the memories she was going through. Like a man trying to bury something or possibly shove her out, he sped ahead of her and began throwing memories out at her - some related to the goggles and some not - burrowing deeper in the pile she'd been digging in. Disoriented, she stayed where she was trying to hang on amidst all the cacophony going on in his mind and suddenly found one of the memories he'd tossed out at her was a bunch of his personal codes. And not just for operating the goggles either.
"Oh. Thank you," she said with a surprised smile and instantly cut off the connection. Lifting the goggles off of her face, she gave Xander a bright blue-eyed smile and said, "Okay. We can go now."
In the silence of the car her attention was drawn to Jason as he murmured his plans to skip another meal and in her deeper mental layers she felt a burst of concern. He hadn't eaten anything except the nutrition bar she'd given him yesterday either. This was not good. She could tell from the way he said it that he was probably having difficulty connecting with anything other than the desire to have his goggles returned, but the threat it posed if he continued to deny himself the basic necessities worried her. The other men on their team already thought it was useless to bring him along - and under normal circumstances, she'd agree - so if he continued to make himself a weakness, there was no doubt it would reflect badly on her to keep him around. Even though she liked him, she was not going to let Jason make her look like a weak link in the Agency.
Seated comfortably in the cozy restaurant the other two men had chosen, Stephanie began to look through the menu when Benoit finally spoke, drawing her attention instantly. Alright, so that was good news. She figured that her first plan was a long shot with how they described Alexander's current habitual use of his powers, but she'd had a slim hope that it would have worked - she so desperately wanted to try and get Gwen within her clutches again, even just to make the attempt - which was why she'd suggested the second idea she'd had.
The conversation was momentarily disrupted as a waiter approached the table to advise Benoit about the cigarette he still had between his lips. Stephanie blinked apathetically as Jean proceeded to punch and then threaten the man before being corrected by his lead. For once, she felt a boost of pride that even as conceited and arrogant as Jean played himself out to be, he was still just unsophisticated muscle and the opportunities where it showed were pleasing to watch. He didn't seem too unraveled by the situation and that was the only sobering thing about it - he did not realize how foolish he made himself seem to her and her 'lowly' companion.
Setting the menu aside as she listened to what else Benoit had to say, she was inwardly satisfied that he approved. Even the concerns he brought up about whether or not Alexander would even be drawn to Gwen as bait were reasonable and despite the urgency she felt - and the lack of need for her to risk her target for their case - she felt drawn to help them out. After all these years of constantly chasing after Alexander and failed attempts to recapture the man, Gwen presented a very real weakness that could end up being the success for both of them. Why not share the wealth and help them out? Afterall, they were all on a team right now, working together.
"I do not mind waiting," she said plainly, not even looking in Jason's direction as she spoke. "It's been about 24 hours and right now the connection is still fresh and new and pumped full of adrenaline. I'll give her a bit more time to solidify something on his end and then we'll move forward. It might take her a while to gather up enough courage and confidence to make a second attempt at spying, anyways."
Picking up her own menu, she began to look through it more thoroughly, picking out the things she wanted. When the newly appointed waiter came by, an uneasy, yet polite smile coming to his face, she instantly chimed in with her orders. "I will get the stuffed French toast with a few sausage links on the side. And he," she nodded lightly in Jason's direction. "Will have the breakfast sampler, please." Without another look at their server, she folded up her menu and pushed it to the edge of the table. While Benoit and Jean went over their orders, she leaned in close to Jason and spoke low in his ear. There was very little chance that the two men across from them wouldn't eavesdrop even if she left with him for a moment, so she kept her conversation brief and without too much prejudice against their team-mates.
"I am growing impatient with you. You may think that your presence is necessary, but let me assure you, at this moment in time, that couldn't be further from the truth," her voice was barely above a whisper but even so it held no inflection, her tone flat and dead. "Currently, you're being tolerated with the hope of eventually reconnecting you with what you have lost - if it is at all still useful to you - so that you may finish your job and do what you have been assigned to do. And make no mistake, Jason, right now your purpose is to serve me and aid ME in capturing the target. I don't pretend to know what you're going through right now but you have not stopped possessing the potential for what I need."
"You are the only one on my team left who knows almost as much about Gwen as I do - besides our current company - and I trust you, above all others. I need you by my side and I need you in the best shape you can be in to help me with this. In return, I will do my best to help you with whatever you're going through, but if all you're going to be is something for me to trip over while I pursue her, then I will end your misery right here and now, myself. So," she sat back just a little bit, still speaking in those low tones. "You will choke down the breakfast I have ordered for you the best that you can and keep your energy and strength up. Do you understand?"
She was and always had been a terrible babysitter.
----------------
The feeling of her elbow smashing into his face sent her heart racing even faster than before, a rush spilling over the static buzzing in her brain as anger flushed her cheeks and made her pull her arm back for a second go against his cheek. There wasn't enough time for her to stop the blow when she saw the kid's face transform into a bestial grimace, teeth bared and gnashing out towards the limb quickly approaching his jaw. Like magic, she felt Xander there, a calming presence as his arms slid into place around her, one hand on her waist and the other on the arm not raised and ready to strike, sweeping her smoothly and effortlessly to the side and out of harms way.Blinking in surprise and still hyper-sensitive from the adrenaline pumping through her, Gwen tried to make sense of what Xander was now talking about - not to her, of course, he was still ignoring her because she was fucking useless, but to Alex whom was still lost in the fuzzy crinkling that would not fade from her internal ears. However from the tone he took with some of his responses, he was only half-listening to Alex either and she found herself frustrated with him, even as she was frustrated with herself. She couldn't take this anymore. Was he concerned about what was going on or not? Did he care that Agents were on their way? Did he care that this fool had so many holes in his story they could wear it to a polka dot ball and be the height of fashion?
But when he stepped forward and sent a frying pulse into the kid's brain again, Gwen didn't have a moment to continue feeling worried, a tiny gasp leaving her as she felt the mental poke searing through the teenager's skull filling her own along with it. Things didn't immediately rush back to her, slowly fading in like an old television set being turned on, the picture becoming more solid and clear after a few minutes of warming up. Occasionally she was aware of being addressed by David but she was barely acknowledging either of them anymore as visions of what he was thinking and remembering flashed before her eyes, growing more frequent as her powers gained back their lost strength.
Xander pressed the questions she'd asked in her fit of paranoia and a soft picture formed in her mind of the facility David had been in - sterile floors and white sheeted beds, with smooth, shining metallic surfaces and glass sealed walls. Most of the time the images were fuzzy, as if half-seen through closed eyelids, an occasional drowsy flutter of eyelashes that left everything blurry. But at one point, she did see the room he was in more clearly and she assumed that was when he was finally making his escape. Before that however, he was strapped to a bed, the body restrained - it didn't matter, he couldn't move his limbs anyways. He was stuck so deep inside, it was like he was a part of the body and not, sensations felt through a thick fog and control nonexistent.
The memory jumped over spans of moments and days and through the haze she heard voices echoing into his consciousness - doctors, she immediately thought, but something more, almost military. Their shiny black shoes clacked heavily over the tiled floors as they walked in a group towards the bedside, approving smiles and interrogative paranoia in their voices - depending on who was speaking. It was like they were talking about a top secret weapon being developed half the time and the other half it was like they were discussing an alien autopsy - their voices matter-of-fact and distant but with a measure of curiosity that hinted at fear and a desire to control.
Everything she saw up to this point confirmed the words that came out of his mouth and she almost jumped for joy in the middle of the room with the burst of excitement that coursed through her. He was telling the truth! And she knew it! God, it had been so scary to feel so alone and empty, Agents breathing down their necks, feeling like this was a repeat of the situations Alex and Xander had described to her before, everyone a possible enemy and everyone looking to victimize her. And now she knew - she KNEW what was real and what was not! That, more than the fact that he was telling the truth made her extremely happy.
With a sigh of relief escaping her lips, she listened alertly to the rest of their conversation, allowing more visions to fill her head as he spoke - Gwen's smile faltered as she got a look at the section of the facility where the bodies were kept, every bone inside her clattering with a sudden chill. Rows and rows of sleeping bodies in liquid filled tanks standing in the room in endless lines, like packed sardines, each one glowing with an unearthly yellow green and the room filled with a threaded hum like a giant beast's lungs filling and emptying all around her.
How many people was that? In the room she occupied in the memory, the containers nearby on the one end of the room she was standing said #H07-0585-LPK and #H07-0584-LIP etc. and the rows spread out before her by the thousands. Somehow, intuitively, she knew this wasn't the only room they had like this and it made her feel ill to think of how many were failures and how many were successes. How were they allowed to do this without anyone knowing or even suspecting? How could they even get away with it? Who were these people?
Gwen was shaken from the memory with Xander's new announcement that their companion was now joining their group and for once she was only slightly dismayed by his decision. She found herself more distracted by the direction he gave her about the goggles she still had on around her neck than she was concerned about the kid anymore. Find out where they were keeping the tanks of people - that she could most certainly do, and she was excited to try now that she was feeling useful again. But she stopped once more, distracted by the new points that Alex brought up. He was right. David's reaction to Xander's decision was not whole-heartedly with them - although there was a mixture of excitement that he'd be released, he was also trepidatious about accompanying them with what he thought Gwen could do. There was a threat there...as if he felt he needed to protect himself in some way and was planning to leave them when he got the chance, and she knew he'd fight them tooth and nail if they tried to stop him or posed any danger to him. He would not be caught like this again, not by them or anyone else.
Xander's response however sent a shiver up her spine with the deathly hollow tone he took while he said it, no remorse in his voice, just plain, terse, death-like promise. Life was merely an obstacle to him. Like a mirror, she could feel that same shiver run through both Alex and their new friend, although the teenager's thought processes jumped a lot more defensively than Alex's did. She knew what he was going to do before it happened and even though the trays and cart were a foot or two away, she stepped back reflexively as everything on it exploded with loud metal clangs and pops as tray covers and plates spontaneously combusted, food and heated strawberry sauce and syrup flying everywhere and splattering walls like carnage from a car bomb. She could feel the satisfaction coursing through David and she shrunk back a little bit at his threat, before another gasp left her when Xander sliced into the guy's head again with a quick, forceful jolt. Well, there was always that.
David slumped down in his chair instantly, no more thoughts or emotions coming from him or the other occupant of his mind, just dead emptiness emitting the slow hum of life. At Xander's direction, she stopped staring into space and instantly started to slip the goggles back onto her face.
"Let's hope that if anything does go wrong, you'll still have that option," she said in a sardonic tone, as her vision filled with orange light. It was right about then that she realized she was hearing Alex's internal voice speaking and in a burst of excitement she said,
Alex!
For a few moments, she just stood there, realizing she hadn't spoken aloud but felt like he'd still heard her. She didn't know how to recreate the effect, repeating in her mind a few times, Hello? Hello? Can you hear me now? before she realized it was not the same and gave up. Oh, well. Just another weird thing...
Looking around the room, the little blurbs of information popped up all over the place and with a quick mental swipe she stopped it from doing that while clearing them away. So, he wanted her to find the place David had been kept, the facility with the rows of bodies - no doubt to find his own and get back into it, like David had said - which was a plan she whole-heartedly agreed with. Enough of this double body and mind crap. People weren't meant to share forms like this, which was no doubt why Xander was spiraling out of control, and after everything he'd done for her, she wanted to help him out as well.
And also, she really wanted to help Alex. He was in her exact same place with people wanting to do things to him because of the powers he possessed, except he'd actually been taken already, always shoved aside and tossed around like a rag doll within his own body. He shouldn't have to share and what the Agency had done to him was unfair, especially when he was hanging onto the coattails of a dying man. She didn't understand why they were doing this - if they knew the risks and that people were dying because of the transfers, then why continue? She only saw it as the pursuit of knowledge and trying to kill off those they perceived as dangerous; Experimentation on people for the sake of it. Once they'd returned Alex and Xander to normal - if -, if there was an opportunity to stop them from continuing to do this, she wanted to take it.
Not really sure what she was looking for yet, Gwen opened up the main navigation screen in the goggles and started looking through the options for anything having to do with location or an incubation facility or even a lab. Every time she thought she'd found what she was looking for, a new screen popped up blocking her access by asking for a code of some kind. Something she did not have.
A groan of irritation left her lips as she made her way to the couch and sat down. "Just...hang on a minute... This is going to take a little while..." she bit her lips nervously as she thought over what she had to do - she needed the codes from somebody who knew them. Xander might know but he was currently busy and he was expecting her to come up with answers quickly. After her recent erratic behavior and his own trouble with connecting with the goggles - which still might have an averse affect on him and cause him to slow down even further - she couldn't ask him to put them on and try again. He was depending on her.
So, she worked with what she had. Only hesitating for a moment longer, she brought up the previous connection that had been made with the glasses Stephanie had been wearing. The breath she'd been holding came out in a rush as she realized the woman was no longer wearing them but although they were no longer on her face, they were in a semi-sleep mode and she could see through them still. Well, that plan was a bust, and she was just about to give up and ask Xander for help when it occurred to her, Stephanie hadn't been the only one wearing glasses in the car when Gwen had spied on her earlier. Both Benoit and the driver had been wearing them and also...the sickly man who'd been in the seat next to her. The previous owner of the goggles would have that information! What had been his name? It was a J something; John? James? Joseph? She couldn't remember.
Looking through Stephanie's glasses, there was a small option that led to another open connection with the name "Jean" above it. Yes! Jean! That had been it! Clicking on it, Gwen was taken away from the link with Stephanie's glasses and put in contact with someone else's. Looking through the guy's glasses, she instantly knew that it was the man who'd been looking ill in the backseat, as when he looked around the table he was sitting at, it visually accounted for the other people who'd been in the car with him. After being in this viewpoint with Stephanie, it was odd seeing the woman's face and body as she sat next to the hunched over young man. Biting her lips even harder, Gwen took in a deep breath and pressed forward into the guy's mind, making sure to keep silent and slithering through his consciousness like a wraith, a barely felt shadow.
The first thing that hit her was the realization that his name was not "Jean". It was "Jason". Of course! That was Stephanie's partner, the man who'd previously owned the goggles and whom the anonymous textspeaker "Gary" had mentioned as well. But why was he wearing Jean's glasses? From the man's thoughts and emotions, Gwen was able to identify the unnamed Frenchman, the companion to this Benoit character, as Jean and not just from deduction either. Amidst the illness and aching longing that filled Jason, she could feel a sense of contempt for both men on the other side of the table - something about a sort of rivalry and being treated as less than person. Apparently, the guy's on Alex and Xander's trail were jerks - according to Jason, anyways.
There were also thoughts of the goggles she was now wearing and once again, Gwen found herself taken aback by the feverish obsession that throbbed within him when he considered the missing part of his "suit". Just as there had been with Stephanie, there was an almost inhuman level to the grotesque need inside him, obliterating to a degree the parts of him that were even a man - he became this feeling of need and longing and yearning, every nerve in his body screaming to be reconnected with the technology they'd lost, making her rub her arms in reflex.
What was wrong with these people? Jesus... The emotions were brought somewhat back down to earth by the feelings of hate he had for whomever currently had the goggles and a lot of anxiety and worry about his fate if they were not returned to him. There was a sense of sympathy inside her towards his plight, but she did not let it go further than that. These were the people looking for her. They sought to turn her into whatever was currently happening to Xander. It was either her or them and anything she could do to cripple them and keep them a few more steps behind was worth not getting her brain smooshed with someone else's.
Back in the hotel room, she felt an electric tremor shoot up her spine and knew that the front desk had the taxi out front waiting for them. A second later, the phone in the room rang and looking in Xander's direction, she clicked her fingers and pointed at it, silently mouthing "Taxi", being sure not to say it aloud. She didn't know if Jason would be able to hear or not, but she didn't want him to know about her presence before she was ready for him to. It didn't matter because a moment later she came to the realization that without the goggles, there was very slim chance he was going to consciously think about the codes to open up the lab and facility files. That meant she'd have to go digging in memories he wasn't currently thinking about.
But of course, she didn't know she'd be detected by doing that before she actually made the attempt, leaving the sphere of his conscious focus and delving into the unoccupied parts of his mind. Following a trail of thought about the goggles, she came upon the section where his memory of using them was kept, her psychic presence shoving through the darkness and probing through the unimportant information. Some of it, she picked out and stowed away in her own mind, but she stopped doing that once she sensed he knew something was wrong. Then she was speeding through it all, going as fast as she could, not caring if he could feel her or knew what she was doing. Then...he began to do odd things...
It was nothing like it had been with Stephanie, although the guy did try to shut down a few layers of his mind, she did not feel them getting closer to her like she had in the female Agent's mind. It was more like he'd slam a few internal doors and then...slam them again, as if he were having trouble keeping them closed. The noise was unsettling but it did not bother her. What DID bother her was now his focus was situated right on top of her and the memories she was going through. Like a man trying to bury something or possibly shove her out, he sped ahead of her and began throwing memories out at her - some related to the goggles and some not - burrowing deeper in the pile she'd been digging in. Disoriented, she stayed where she was trying to hang on amidst all the cacophony going on in his mind and suddenly found one of the memories he'd tossed out at her was a bunch of his personal codes. And not just for operating the goggles either.
"Oh. Thank you," she said with a surprised smile and instantly cut off the connection. Lifting the goggles off of her face, she gave Xander a bright blue-eyed smile and said, "Okay. We can go now."
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Sun Aug 15, 2010 11:56 pm
Oh. Shit.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck –
“The table is shaking.”
Flunky sneered at him over his stupid, tiny coffee. Jason felt his lip curling in response before he could help it, but snapped his face back into something... well – he couldn’t damn well say ‘emotionless’ when he had the queen of that sitting beside him, but ‘detached’ was close enough, right? Anyway, it was all he could manage. So maybe he was shaking a little. He had it under control.
And by the way: fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!
He knew what that was! He knew what he’d been told about it! If nothing else – which completely could've been the situation, because this whole fucking Agency was out to screw him by giving him nothing to work with – he knew what his target’s powers were supposed to be. He hadn’t believe a word of it, mostly because he’d spent his time training to work with the suit, work to fight – not against psychotic, ex-Agent transfers who knew all their bullshit secrets and threw it in Jason’s face after they stole his goggles, but normal people – instead of patrolling the backend ass of headquarters, asking about the crap they did in the regional labs or wasting his days wandering around a... a gigantic... field of failed test subjects, which he felt, in case anyone actually cared, extremely disgusted by, because it was one thing to say they were trying to gather those people to make sure they didn’t run out of control with their powers, but it another entirely to keep them in jars. To do what? What? Save them until they learned how to suck the powers out later?
The food on his plate wouldn’t’ve so bad if he’d had an appetite. He was hungry, he realized. His lead had noticed, surprisingly enough, but she wasn’t exactly the sort of person to let an ‘asset’ die until she decided to kill him. He was barely worried about her poisoning his plate only because she wouldn’t deprive herself of the chance do it with her bare hands and he had no idea if he deserved it or not. He didn’t think he did. Gary – from the beginning, it’d been Gary’s screw-up – had ruined this, but every other assignment Jason had ever had, his supervisors had been calling him a ‘ninja’, an ‘assassin’, a ‘demon streaking from Hell’... Jason should’ve been able to salvage the situation. Because he hadn’t, something much, much worse had just happened.
As he swallowed another mouthful of whatever he’d been ordered, he carefully ventured back through his memories. What the hell had she taken? What had she seen? He’d never been properly tested on his mental defences – how the hell was anyone supposed to be tested for that? – and he’d been flailing in whatever improvised organization he could grab at. He’d tried doing what they said, compiling his thoughts and imagination into groups and locking them away. It was harder than he had realized. She’d been going for something. Half the traps he’d tried setting up had been useless because she had a goal in mind. There wasn’t much for her to be distracted by. Every other case that could’ve lured her in was on the very, very, very outside of her interest. She’d wanted codes of... of something. He wasn’t completely sure. He had a million codes in his head. He hadn’t been stupid enough to put every type in the same box and he’d thrown a hundred dummy and the few alarm codes he knew in there, but there was an enormous chance that she’d gotten exactly what she needed, despite the fact that only half of them were labelled. The big ones were something he couldn’t trap. Basic access codes – basic to him, anyway, which were the height of security for others – were too familiar for him to disguise. He couldn’t give them different names to throw her off. On its own? The damage could be monumental. In her hands while she was up to something specific? Catastrophic. In, say, the hands of an ex-Agent with a gigantic bone to pick?
He didn’t say anything. He shoved another bite down his throat. It took its moving and he almost choked on it, but thankfully, he didn’t have that to add to his list of crap that’d happened to him. His lead was right. She had no reason to keep him around while he was like this. But he was useful. He knew details of the Agency the others probably hadn’t heard of, the Flunky especially, but maybe Frenchie, too. Time to prove that...
“Those lenses,” he said. God, he sounded horrible. He’d been in and out of a cold sweat all day and it was wearing on him. “You can track where they’re going? You know their next stop?”
“Alexander does not know his next stop,” Benoit said, happily munching on the fruit salad the Food Nazi had thrown at him. “He has never seen merit in strategy.”
“Disgraceful,” Flunky said. “No one can survive without a plan.”
Yeah, well, the guy’d been surviving pretty damn okay so far.
“I think I know where he’s going.” Down the rabbit hole. He’d have to give them an explanation for them later – to his lead at least, because he doubted these two cared about the background details like that. “There’s a regional base around here.”
“If by ‘around here’, you mean six cities over,” Benoit replied.
“That’s where he’s going.” That’s where she was going. The memories she’d been digging through... At first, she’d been following the thoughts around his goggles. In a fit of panic he’d done a decent job at hiding, he realized who had them. He couldn’t think about that now. He wanted to, he needed to, but he had to focus on the fact she’d been more than happy to follow along as the thought of headquarters had popped up – inadvertently, but damn – and almost ran to keep up as he turned over the labs and their locations. It was obvious. She hadn’t bothered being subtle. He hoped with his life that’d be her downfall. “They’re heading for the closest lab. Or next closest. One that’s nearby.”
Recognition burst into Benoit’s face immediately. The Flunky followed too, but he took a little longer.
“He wants his body,” Frenchie said.
“I will call the Agency,” Flunky added.
“Not yet, Jean.” Benoit leaned back in his chair and thought it over. “This... distrust. The illusion you spoke of, Miss Agent. If you are willing to wait and promote their separation at its most convenient time, I would suggest you do so while we have them in our grasp.”
“You want us to wait until they’re in there? But... that means we’re just going to let them walk in.”
“We will put up a fight,” Benoit said. “If we do not alert the Agency, we will not risk a facade Alexander may see through. Let them fight through security the natural way. But I want them inside.” He nodded to the Flunky at his side. “Call the Agency. Tell them to find the body of Alexander-the-guest and ensure it is in the nearest facility. Tell them to be on alert.” He sounded lively. “Tell them to expect an attack wherever the body currently is, enough to put them on edge for the one our targets are heading for, but not enough to question why we would need the body moved. Have all of them moved – all of them – but get the one we need here.”
“You seem pretty excited about this,” Jason said.
“I am,” Benoit said. “Things are coming together. Finish quickly. We should meet them there. Jean, keep your eye on the tracer. Make sure they go where he says they will.”
And just to be safe, even as it pulled another layer off of him, Jason removed the glasses.
Xander wasn’t wasting any time. He was out of the room and down the hall in less than a second after he got the go-ahead from Gwen.
“We have to scout the place,” he said. “We have to make sure they aren’t expecting us or that they are expecting us and pretending not to. That’s the sort of shit they pull on a daily basis.”
I thought you said you didn’t know their procedures anymore.
“Yeah, well... the classics never die,” Xander told him. “If they get wind of this, we’re fucked, especially if we’re in there when it happens. The forces these people have...” He shook his head. “It’s gotta be upgraded. The security’s gotta’ve been ramped up beyond belief. We can’t shut it down and we can’t even stop it, so we have to pick the quietest route to get in – hey.” He stopped, suddenly, then turned back to look at Gwen. David swung a little on his shoulder. “You might be in over your head here.”
She’s in over her head? I don’t know what kind of robot-crazy-machine-killer you might’ve been... you know... before – but... I’m not you.
“That’s for sure.” He’d started walking again.
I’m serious. I don’t know what’s happening to you or if it should matter to me at all. Do you vanish and I get my body back? That’d be fantastic. Do I die with you? If you do, am I locked out of my body forever? Do I still keep my powers? So – listen, I’m all for you getting the hell out of me, but let’s not go crazy. My body is not something you’re gonna dump like old shoes. I need it after.
“Got it.”
Bullshit. Xander hadn’t listened to a word Alex had said. He was too busy glaring at anyone who gave more than a passing look to the kid on his shoulder. Once again, everyone backed off, and they made it to the taxi in record time. Xander threw David inside and against the far door, then slid in next to him. At least he wasn’t leaving Gwen to sit by the psycho, but Alex really wished they’d at least brought handcuffs or something.
Where are we going?
“Gwen knows,” Xander said, confident. “She should.” He got the wallet from his bag and pulled out one of the credit cards, handing it to her before she came into the car. “Pay him with this. Get him to take us as far as he can. If we have to stop for more than twenty minutes, find someone else to drive us. We’re not waiting.”
He had a goal in mind. He wasn’t going to quit over something as stupid as gas.
And that scouting thing? How’s it going to work?
“I’ll handle it. Just get me there.”
And you’re gonna storm the front door?
“We’ll see how it goes.”
Y’know, sometimes I think you take the ‘I’m an Agent’ thing too far, he said. You aren’t actually a superhero.
“Oh, Alex. You’re so innocent. I think I’m gonna miss that the most about you.”
... That was right. It just hit him. Right now, it’d finally clicked. If this worked, if he got rid of Xander... then Xander was going to leave.
And what happens after? Where’re you gonna go? Back to the Agency?
Alex had said it sarcastically.
“Maybe.” Xander had not. “I haven’t ruled anything out. But I told you, let’s see how it goes.”
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. If Xander became an Agent again... He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. They wouldn’t take him back after everything he’d done. Then again, they’d probably gag over his talent and send him out to do the job right. After six years of living together, it’d take minutes for them to catch up. Alex truly would be dead.
Sabotage wasn’t an option. Whether or not this went beyond petty feuding and pointless rivalry to pure and total war, Alex couldn’t live like this, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t change if this happened like they wanted. The second they split, they were strangers, and one of them was decidedly more capable of killing than the other. If Alex kept his powers, he’d stand a chance, but he had no idea who Xander had been. What if he really was a robot? And anyway, it wouldn't solve Gwen’s problems. She was on the run, too. What was supposed to happen to her?
There’s still a lot of things we need to talk about before –
“Great! You two plan away. I’m gonna get some sleep.” He’d practically just woken up! “I don’t know if that’ll be enough to keep the exhaustion at bay, but I don’t want to deal with this when we get there.”
How far away is this place?
“Ask Gwen.”
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He didn't fall asleep right away, but he was definitely done talking to them. Alex and Gwen were alone again. Did that mean they were free to chat? She hadn’t been responding to him directly for a while, and either that because of what’d happened this morning or her powers...
It hadn’t set in, but a headache was brewing around him. Unfortunately, it meant every ounce of whatever he was right now was slowly dipping into pain.
Gwen? He’d focus on her instead. She’d keep him level. Gwen, where are we going? What’s the plan?
Flying blind again. Good times.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck –
“The table is shaking.”
Flunky sneered at him over his stupid, tiny coffee. Jason felt his lip curling in response before he could help it, but snapped his face back into something... well – he couldn’t damn well say ‘emotionless’ when he had the queen of that sitting beside him, but ‘detached’ was close enough, right? Anyway, it was all he could manage. So maybe he was shaking a little. He had it under control.
And by the way: fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!
He knew what that was! He knew what he’d been told about it! If nothing else – which completely could've been the situation, because this whole fucking Agency was out to screw him by giving him nothing to work with – he knew what his target’s powers were supposed to be. He hadn’t believe a word of it, mostly because he’d spent his time training to work with the suit, work to fight – not against psychotic, ex-Agent transfers who knew all their bullshit secrets and threw it in Jason’s face after they stole his goggles, but normal people – instead of patrolling the backend ass of headquarters, asking about the crap they did in the regional labs or wasting his days wandering around a... a gigantic... field of failed test subjects, which he felt, in case anyone actually cared, extremely disgusted by, because it was one thing to say they were trying to gather those people to make sure they didn’t run out of control with their powers, but it another entirely to keep them in jars. To do what? What? Save them until they learned how to suck the powers out later?
The food on his plate wouldn’t’ve so bad if he’d had an appetite. He was hungry, he realized. His lead had noticed, surprisingly enough, but she wasn’t exactly the sort of person to let an ‘asset’ die until she decided to kill him. He was barely worried about her poisoning his plate only because she wouldn’t deprive herself of the chance do it with her bare hands and he had no idea if he deserved it or not. He didn’t think he did. Gary – from the beginning, it’d been Gary’s screw-up – had ruined this, but every other assignment Jason had ever had, his supervisors had been calling him a ‘ninja’, an ‘assassin’, a ‘demon streaking from Hell’... Jason should’ve been able to salvage the situation. Because he hadn’t, something much, much worse had just happened.
As he swallowed another mouthful of whatever he’d been ordered, he carefully ventured back through his memories. What the hell had she taken? What had she seen? He’d never been properly tested on his mental defences – how the hell was anyone supposed to be tested for that? – and he’d been flailing in whatever improvised organization he could grab at. He’d tried doing what they said, compiling his thoughts and imagination into groups and locking them away. It was harder than he had realized. She’d been going for something. Half the traps he’d tried setting up had been useless because she had a goal in mind. There wasn’t much for her to be distracted by. Every other case that could’ve lured her in was on the very, very, very outside of her interest. She’d wanted codes of... of something. He wasn’t completely sure. He had a million codes in his head. He hadn’t been stupid enough to put every type in the same box and he’d thrown a hundred dummy and the few alarm codes he knew in there, but there was an enormous chance that she’d gotten exactly what she needed, despite the fact that only half of them were labelled. The big ones were something he couldn’t trap. Basic access codes – basic to him, anyway, which were the height of security for others – were too familiar for him to disguise. He couldn’t give them different names to throw her off. On its own? The damage could be monumental. In her hands while she was up to something specific? Catastrophic. In, say, the hands of an ex-Agent with a gigantic bone to pick?
He didn’t say anything. He shoved another bite down his throat. It took its moving and he almost choked on it, but thankfully, he didn’t have that to add to his list of crap that’d happened to him. His lead was right. She had no reason to keep him around while he was like this. But he was useful. He knew details of the Agency the others probably hadn’t heard of, the Flunky especially, but maybe Frenchie, too. Time to prove that...
“Those lenses,” he said. God, he sounded horrible. He’d been in and out of a cold sweat all day and it was wearing on him. “You can track where they’re going? You know their next stop?”
“Alexander does not know his next stop,” Benoit said, happily munching on the fruit salad the Food Nazi had thrown at him. “He has never seen merit in strategy.”
“Disgraceful,” Flunky said. “No one can survive without a plan.”
Yeah, well, the guy’d been surviving pretty damn okay so far.
“I think I know where he’s going.” Down the rabbit hole. He’d have to give them an explanation for them later – to his lead at least, because he doubted these two cared about the background details like that. “There’s a regional base around here.”
“If by ‘around here’, you mean six cities over,” Benoit replied.
“That’s where he’s going.” That’s where she was going. The memories she’d been digging through... At first, she’d been following the thoughts around his goggles. In a fit of panic he’d done a decent job at hiding, he realized who had them. He couldn’t think about that now. He wanted to, he needed to, but he had to focus on the fact she’d been more than happy to follow along as the thought of headquarters had popped up – inadvertently, but damn – and almost ran to keep up as he turned over the labs and their locations. It was obvious. She hadn’t bothered being subtle. He hoped with his life that’d be her downfall. “They’re heading for the closest lab. Or next closest. One that’s nearby.”
Recognition burst into Benoit’s face immediately. The Flunky followed too, but he took a little longer.
“He wants his body,” Frenchie said.
“I will call the Agency,” Flunky added.
“Not yet, Jean.” Benoit leaned back in his chair and thought it over. “This... distrust. The illusion you spoke of, Miss Agent. If you are willing to wait and promote their separation at its most convenient time, I would suggest you do so while we have them in our grasp.”
“You want us to wait until they’re in there? But... that means we’re just going to let them walk in.”
“We will put up a fight,” Benoit said. “If we do not alert the Agency, we will not risk a facade Alexander may see through. Let them fight through security the natural way. But I want them inside.” He nodded to the Flunky at his side. “Call the Agency. Tell them to find the body of Alexander-the-guest and ensure it is in the nearest facility. Tell them to be on alert.” He sounded lively. “Tell them to expect an attack wherever the body currently is, enough to put them on edge for the one our targets are heading for, but not enough to question why we would need the body moved. Have all of them moved – all of them – but get the one we need here.”
“You seem pretty excited about this,” Jason said.
“I am,” Benoit said. “Things are coming together. Finish quickly. We should meet them there. Jean, keep your eye on the tracer. Make sure they go where he says they will.”
And just to be safe, even as it pulled another layer off of him, Jason removed the glasses.
* * *
Xander wasn’t wasting any time. He was out of the room and down the hall in less than a second after he got the go-ahead from Gwen.
“We have to scout the place,” he said. “We have to make sure they aren’t expecting us or that they are expecting us and pretending not to. That’s the sort of shit they pull on a daily basis.”
I thought you said you didn’t know their procedures anymore.
“Yeah, well... the classics never die,” Xander told him. “If they get wind of this, we’re fucked, especially if we’re in there when it happens. The forces these people have...” He shook his head. “It’s gotta be upgraded. The security’s gotta’ve been ramped up beyond belief. We can’t shut it down and we can’t even stop it, so we have to pick the quietest route to get in – hey.” He stopped, suddenly, then turned back to look at Gwen. David swung a little on his shoulder. “You might be in over your head here.”
She’s in over her head? I don’t know what kind of robot-crazy-machine-killer you might’ve been... you know... before – but... I’m not you.
“That’s for sure.” He’d started walking again.
I’m serious. I don’t know what’s happening to you or if it should matter to me at all. Do you vanish and I get my body back? That’d be fantastic. Do I die with you? If you do, am I locked out of my body forever? Do I still keep my powers? So – listen, I’m all for you getting the hell out of me, but let’s not go crazy. My body is not something you’re gonna dump like old shoes. I need it after.
“Got it.”
Bullshit. Xander hadn’t listened to a word Alex had said. He was too busy glaring at anyone who gave more than a passing look to the kid on his shoulder. Once again, everyone backed off, and they made it to the taxi in record time. Xander threw David inside and against the far door, then slid in next to him. At least he wasn’t leaving Gwen to sit by the psycho, but Alex really wished they’d at least brought handcuffs or something.
Where are we going?
“Gwen knows,” Xander said, confident. “She should.” He got the wallet from his bag and pulled out one of the credit cards, handing it to her before she came into the car. “Pay him with this. Get him to take us as far as he can. If we have to stop for more than twenty minutes, find someone else to drive us. We’re not waiting.”
He had a goal in mind. He wasn’t going to quit over something as stupid as gas.
And that scouting thing? How’s it going to work?
“I’ll handle it. Just get me there.”
And you’re gonna storm the front door?
“We’ll see how it goes.”
Y’know, sometimes I think you take the ‘I’m an Agent’ thing too far, he said. You aren’t actually a superhero.
“Oh, Alex. You’re so innocent. I think I’m gonna miss that the most about you.”
... That was right. It just hit him. Right now, it’d finally clicked. If this worked, if he got rid of Xander... then Xander was going to leave.
And what happens after? Where’re you gonna go? Back to the Agency?
Alex had said it sarcastically.
“Maybe.” Xander had not. “I haven’t ruled anything out. But I told you, let’s see how it goes.”
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. If Xander became an Agent again... He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. They wouldn’t take him back after everything he’d done. Then again, they’d probably gag over his talent and send him out to do the job right. After six years of living together, it’d take minutes for them to catch up. Alex truly would be dead.
Sabotage wasn’t an option. Whether or not this went beyond petty feuding and pointless rivalry to pure and total war, Alex couldn’t live like this, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t change if this happened like they wanted. The second they split, they were strangers, and one of them was decidedly more capable of killing than the other. If Alex kept his powers, he’d stand a chance, but he had no idea who Xander had been. What if he really was a robot? And anyway, it wouldn't solve Gwen’s problems. She was on the run, too. What was supposed to happen to her?
There’s still a lot of things we need to talk about before –
“Great! You two plan away. I’m gonna get some sleep.” He’d practically just woken up! “I don’t know if that’ll be enough to keep the exhaustion at bay, but I don’t want to deal with this when we get there.”
How far away is this place?
“Ask Gwen.”
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He didn't fall asleep right away, but he was definitely done talking to them. Alex and Gwen were alone again. Did that mean they were free to chat? She hadn’t been responding to him directly for a while, and either that because of what’d happened this morning or her powers...
It hadn’t set in, but a headache was brewing around him. Unfortunately, it meant every ounce of whatever he was right now was slowly dipping into pain.
Gwen? He’d focus on her instead. She’d keep him level. Gwen, where are we going? What’s the plan?
Flying blind again. Good times.
Last edited by Tartra on Tue Dec 28, 2010 5:05 pm; edited 2 times in total
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Mon Aug 16, 2010 1:48 pm
Stephanie's slender glass of sweetened milk jostled on the table just as she put another forkful of fluffy egg-soaked toast into her mouth. Looking at Jason levelly she tried to assess what was wrong with him - just more tremors from his withdrawal she supposed - internally rolling her eyes as he choked down more of the required breakfast she'd gotten for him. He could be such a baby. But so long as he was still obeying orders and keeping himself in enough shape to remain conscious and alert, she was happy. Well, as happy as she'd allow herself to be.
The mixed berries and whip cream swirling in her current mouthful, being savored on her tongue, were smoothed down her throat in a quick swallow as her partner spoke up. She drank from her glass of milk in an aloof fashion even as she listened intently, setting it down quickly and looking at the man sitting next to her with a hollowed gaze. He knew what? How? Stephanie's eyes fell on Benoit as his face bloomed with sudden euphoric comprehension. Within her deeper layers, she followed suit, understanding filling her with an urgent excitement as he went over the new plan.
"Brilliant," she said in monotone, keeping a firm lid on the electric energy now pulsing through her body. They had a plan and Alexander was headed for a specific location - somewhere they could prepare and wait for them to arrive. "I will be ready."
She knew exactly what she was going to think as well. Alexander the 'guest' had been an Agent - something she wasn't entirely sure Gwen knew yet, but no doubt she had some inkling - and it was only a matter of exaggerating the possibility that once he was returned to his original body, he would turn around and capture both targets and hand them over to the Agency. She wasn't sure if that was something he would do and after all he'd put the Agency through, it would take a lot more than just a show of good teamwork to get him returned to his previous position. After stealing from the Agency and killing his own people it was unlikely he would just be accepted back into the fold with open arms. Then again, because of his continued resilience there was a chance they'd value him just as much as they did their precious cases.
Nevermind. It didn't matter what he would do, just that the doubt she instilled was plausible enough for Gwen to fear him. If he was no longer safe, if he was no longer protecting her and it became clear he was only looking out for his own interests, she would not stay. Not only that but she'd be incredibly hurt by such revelations and doubts and most likely clam up again like she had this past year. Leaving her vulnerable and weak. A smile touched Stephanie's internal layers as her heart thundered in joy. Gwendolyn, you will be mine.
As soon as Benoit made the connection with the labs and Alexander wanting to get his body back, Stephanie instantly knew what he was talking about. She'd seen those containment chambers and the transfer units and had worked closely with a few others who were being trained on different cases to eventually make the leap into a target's body. In her mind, the rooms full of storage tanks were beautiful and she envisioned her own form held in suspension within one of them, her body left an empty shell, sleeping peacefully in life that wasn't life. Leaving behind this old form to control the body and powers of another. She could not wait. There were of course cases where the targets did not mesh well with those who entered the body and both were lost, but she had every confidence in the program's validity. She wanted that body, no matter the sacrifices she might have to endure. She'd already given everything to this case and the Agency itself. There really was nothing left for her to lose.
Thinking of the labs made Stephanie glance at her partner, even as Benoit finished detailing to his right hand about what to tell the Agency and where to move the target's body. How did he come by this sudden knowledge about where the targets were heading? Surreptitiously, her eyes followed the movement as he removed his sunglasses and tucked them away and she narrowed her gaze a little. It was definitely his specialty to gather and analyze information but this new direction had a predictive element that they hadn't had before. Had she missed something in their conversation that would point to Alexander going to the labs? And why out of the blue would he try and return to his body now? What had changed?
As they all finished breakfast, Stephanie continued to turn it over in her mind, chewing on it even as she chewed the plump and meaty sausage links that she'd ordered. She tried to remain positive and to cultivate the official lies she would be mentally feeding Gwen, while also going over the process of body transfer as it had been taught to her - just in preparation; something she did when she was bored and not thinking fixedly about Gwendolyn - but the wondering thoughts about Jason would not leave her alone. It was only after they'd paid the check and settled back into the car that it finally clicked for her. Seated in the plush leather of the backseat she looked up front just as Benoit got into the car. The glasses he'd loaned her had fallen onto the floor where his feet were and as he got in he picked them up and looked them over to assess the damage. Since they were okay, he handed them back to her and she took them with a murmured "Thank you" looking them over herself before tucking them thoughtfully into an inner pocket of her red suit jacket.
Then of course she remembered the last time she'd put them on and why she felt a measure of dread to return them to her face. And then, she looked over at Jason, remembering how he'd taken his own off after that big reveal at breakfast. She'd contacted him, hadn't she? Of course! Alexander had most likely used his powers a few times by now and released Gwen from the block Stephanie had put on her. And for whatever reason, she must have tried to spy again. Finding Stephanie inaccessible at this distance without the glasses she'd been wearing, she'd jumped and made a connection with her partner instead. They still were not close enough for Gwen's maximum distance of 1 mile while using her powers - a gap which she could breech with help from a communication device linked directly to another human being - so it was very plausible that she'd invaded Jason's consciousness and gone digging for something. Depending on what she had been looking for and how well Jason was with hiding things mentally, he would be able to infer where they were headed.
The more Stephanie thought about it, the more sure of it she became. Satisfied with the conclusions she'd reached, she leaned in close to him to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. "When they first assigned you to this case, I originally scoffed that they would select someone without an ounce of mental training. You had no experience with the type of work the others on my team had done and you stood out because of it," her lips drew nearer to his ear and despite the emotionless tone she adopted as always, there was an underlying pleasantness, an almost musical quality to her whisper. "But your reputation preceded you, and I was told you were an expert in covert operations. And I'll admit, even having very little knowledge of what it was or what it did, I was impressed with your proficiency and record regarding use of the technology you wear. I thought, 'if anyone could get her without a hitch, including all possible scenarios that could go wrong, this guy is it.' She would have been plucked from her life in the cleanest most efficient way possible. So, I accepted the application with high hopes and absolute confidence that when I sent out the order for her collection, in a few hours I'd have completed my mission and gotten what I wanted."
She paused and licked her thin, darkly lipsticked lips to wet them, the slender, pink appendage moving awfully close to Jason's neck where her mouth currently hovered just below his ear. Her voice when it came, held a bit of smoky tone to it, tantalizingly lacking emotion but enough that there was something audibly there, flittering from between her lips. "And you have done nothing but disappoint me. Every chance you get, you shove in my face how foolish and utterly stupid my decision to accept you was. I will admit, there have been minor redemptions where I felt my faith in you bolstered by a display of knowledge and skill. But when it mattered, you failed, again and again." Her body was closer now, just barely touching his arm through his power suit, the warmth of her presence felt more than any real physical contact. If anyone looked into the backseat, she merely appeared to be sharing a private conversation with him and there was nothing untoward in the way she was currently positioned - from an outside party observing, that is.
"However, for once, Fate shines her grace upon you, as your most recent failure," yes, she was letting him know- She KNEW. "Has proven incredibly instrumental in what we are going to accomplish. For once, your ineptitude and lack of training has given us an advantage to plan ahead and catch her by surprise, and will be the deciding factor on whether we succeed." A minuscule twitch curled the edges of her lips upward in the hint of a smile and the energy she felt broke through for a moment as she shifted in her seat to draw closer to him, rubbing her bosom against him lightly before retreating just an inch. Her breath, sweet with the light tang of berries and powdered sugar could be felt upon his neck and her voice came out slower, pronouncing each word with delicate care so he understood. "For that, I am most grateful...to have made that final decision... Despite the fact that you have holes in your defenses and you are weaker than what I would have preferred you to be... I feel it was meant to be..."
And suddenly she was gone, having drawn back to her side of the car, smoothing down her jacket and her mask fitting firmly back into place, looking straight ahead without another glance at him. From the way she'd spoken to him and the overt hints in her posture and gestures, he would have to be a complete idiot to not know that she was at least very pleased with him - if he was even more observant, he would understand that she was not only fond of him but even attracted to him. The whole conversation and the way she'd spoken was incredibly inappropriate for a lead to speak to a subordinate in such a way, but she just couldn't help it. She was so very happy - ecstatic about the current plan of events - she didn't care what he thought of her anymore.
And of course, the way he described what they were going up against didn't boost her confidence either - blinking at him in dismay when he turned to her with that cryptic warning. What the hell? So, she didn't have the Agent 'skillz' that he had. As long as she kept a handle on her powers and didn't lose them again, she would provide enough of a compliment to his abilities to matter. She was sure of it. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mr. Perfect. Guess you'll be doing this dance alone then, right? And no doubt any help he DID get would not receive any gratitude because he was so awesome, he wouldn't need it.
Alex, as usual, was worried as well and he brought up a lot of the same concerns she had thought of but again, Xander brushed it off like he was barely listening - and he wasn't. There was a lot going on in his mind - all of it suggested at and hinted through a mental wall she still could not push through - and the current conversation, namely Alex's concerns, were not the first thing occupying the man's mind.
Her senses were open as they entered the ground floor and proceeded through the lobby, feeling the shock and nervous curiosity from not only other guests who occupied the main floor but also the staff as well. Nervously, she pushed the goggles down so they were resting on her neck again, offering uneasy smiles to anyone who met her gaze. It didn't help much and these people would remember them. So by the time they reached the taxi cab, she was more than relieved, an uneasy shiver running through her, about the same time as it did through Alex when Xander shoved the unconscious kid into the car first.
Again, she found herself standing beside a taxi, being handed money by Xander and given instructions about where to go. She knew even just from this that he was probably not going to be conscious in a few minutes and would need her to keep track of things and protect him. Although this was the part of their time together that she hated the most, being expected to know what to do in a situation where she pretty much knew only what was in front of her, she accepted it with a sigh and got into the car next to him. She could do this especially now since she in fact DID know where they were going and what they were doing. Sort of.
"Where to?" the cab driver asked in a heavy Brooklyn accent. The man had a thin, long face, short, salt and pepper hair, thick, dark eyebrows and small eyes and lips and from what she could tell by his mental landscape, this guy was a lot more different than Sal had been.
Drawn out of the current conversation between Xander and Alex, she leaned forward across the seat and asked him, "Have you heard of the city, Elmira?" It had been one of the nearest locations nestled deep in Jason's memories, and she wasn't entirely certain that Xander's body would be there, but it was worth a shot.
"Yeah, I her'd of it," Tommy McConaugh said with a shrug. In his mind a sketchy mental map appeared - even more rough and less detailed than the one for Vestal that Sal had thought of - and he estimated the distance between the two cities to be about 39 miles. If this broad thought they were going there, she could forget about it. Tommy wasn't going to go that out of the way unless there was promise of a job out there to take him back. It was just the way he was - although he liked money, he was extremely lazy and rarely if ever went for these long distance jobs.
"Well, I need you to take us near there. I will pay you double the owed amount when we get there," she said, knowing before she even offered that it would make up for the trip being so long.
But Tommy wasn't the sort to be easily placated and turned back around in his seat begrudgingly. "Yeah, a'right," he said with a sigh and pulled away from the curb in front of the hotel. The bitch better have the money, he thought to himself. At least she looked like she might be able to afford it, otherwise he woulda just said 'no' and kicked her out. And like most cabbies, he peered into his rearview mirror to look over the occupants of the back seat, finding both guys sitting with her to be asleep or something. Looked like, for a while at least, this would be a quiet drive.
With that dealt with, Gwen finally settled back in her seat, turning to Xander to find him leaning back with his eyes closed. For a moment, she felt that familiar fear from the last time she'd been in a taxi with him, but when she reached out, she realized it wasn't the same. He actually was sleeping this time. Looking over at the other body in the back seat, she wondered anxiously what she would do if David or the other one inside Nathan's body woke up. How would she convince him to not blow the car up?
Needing comfort, she reached out for Alex just as he turned to talk to her and she smiled a little that they'd thought of that at the same time. She didn't even glance at the taxi driver as she spoke in a low voice towards his ear. "The nearest facility is just outside of Elmira - and it will take us just under an hour to get there. I don't think we'll need to stop--"
"Excuse me?" Tommy's loud, accented voice interrupted, causing Gwen to look up at him. "Wazzat you say?" Looking at the guys in the backseat with her, neither had responded when either she or Tommy had spoken, so he naturally assumed she was saying something to him.
"I'm sorry," Gwen said with a nervous smile and tucking her hair behind her ear. "I guess...I was just sort of...talking to myself." An embarrassed laugh escaped her throat and she shrugged. "You know...how sometimes people do... Just to work through ideas or...comfort themselves when they're alone."
Tommy cocked a thick eyebrow at her in the rearview mirror and shook his head apathetically. "Actually, I don't know that. The only people I know about who talk to themselves are crazy folks. Are you a crazy person?" Even though his tone was light, there was something very antagonistic about what he was saying and the vibes she got from him were somewhat threatening and making her nervous.
"Um, well..." she stammered, but Tommy wasn't waiting for an answer and spoke over her.
"Because I don't rent my cab to no loonies. Ain't enough money in tha world to pay for that kinda pain in the ass." The way he was looking at her now through the rearview mirror made her swallow thickly. Even sensing that he was really just more scared of her and the possibility of insanity than any real threat to her, it was very uncomfortable to be within view of that penetrating gaze. All he wanted was for her to shut up and stop acting weird. He didn't like people who acted weird.
"I'm sorry," she finally said, nodding her head apologetically, hoping to placate him. "I just thought my friend was still awake, but he's not..." Immediately, his expression relaxed and he was no longer watching her as intensely as before, accepting that answer as an easy mistake to make. Turning to look at Xander, she was still lamenting over how she was going to communicate with Alex when Tommy invaded her thoughts again.
"Late night, huh?" he asked in a conversational tone. "Guys got tuckered out, yeah? What was ya doin'? Big party in the city? My girl and I like to party late too, so I know how these guys feel..."
Now that he was set at ease, Tommy was in a talkative mood and since it was going to be a long drive he was getting a head start on keeping himself occupied. "Yeah, listen, I've got a bit of a hangover from it - the party we were at - so if you don't mind..."
"Oh, yeah, sure! No problem. I know what that's like." Realizing his mistake, he waved at her nonchalantly with a small understanding laugh and turned back to the front seat to leave her alone. But she wasn't. Pressing her lips together, she started to lean towards Xander's body, thinking that if she could get close enough and whisper to him, that it would escape the cab driver's notice, but as soon as she started to lean, Tommy's eyes were up in the rearview, casting a smile in her direction. She gave him one back and sat back into her seat with a sigh.
Dammit! What was she going to do? With Tommy feeling uneasy about nutjobs as his fares, she wouldn't be able to get away with as much as she had with Sal, who'd been much more willing to accept that people were weird if it meant he got the money to make up for the trouble. But she needed to talk to him. It was then that she remembered the weird thing that had happened in the hotel - Alex hadn't reacted to it when it occurred, so maybe it had been nothing, but she'd felt like, for a split second at least, she'd made a connection with him mentally.
But she still didn't know how she did it. In the hotel, it had been a burst of excitement in realizing she could hear Alex again and the moment had been a slip where she'd spoken but hadn't spoken aloud. How was she suppose to recreate that here? Under Tommy's constant scrutiny and threat, she didn't really have a choice.
Watching Xander's form from the corner of her eyes she tried reaching out and thinking at the same time. Alex? Alex can you hear me? Nothing. That wasn't it. It sounded hollow like normal thoughts inside one's head normally were. Letting out a breath, and running a hand through her hair, she decided to try again, reaching out even deeper this time and practically clinging to Alex's consciousness. But apparently that wasn't it either. For 10-15 minutes, she sat there trying again and again, doing different things attempting to reconnect with him somehow, but every time she was left with her internal voice bouncing and echoing inside her own head.
Finally, at the 20 minute mark, with the car speeding out of the city and onto the highway, she focused on Alex but didn't put pressure between them, allowing his thoughts to flow into her and not fighting to pin them down. Since she'd just about given up, she wasn't really paying attention when her voice echoed inside his head,
Alex. Alex. Alex. Alex. Alex. Are you there? Can you hear me? I've been calling all day. Can you hear me?
She didn't even realize it but the next moment she was sighing and singing in both of their heads, the rest of the lyrics to the song she remembered. ♪ I'd wish they'd fix the wires cause my baby don't know, that I'm leaving in the morning and I'm ready to go. Can you hear me? Can you hear me at all? Gotta get the operator make a telephone call...♬
((if you don't know this song, that's okay. It's from the 80's))
The mixed berries and whip cream swirling in her current mouthful, being savored on her tongue, were smoothed down her throat in a quick swallow as her partner spoke up. She drank from her glass of milk in an aloof fashion even as she listened intently, setting it down quickly and looking at the man sitting next to her with a hollowed gaze. He knew what? How? Stephanie's eyes fell on Benoit as his face bloomed with sudden euphoric comprehension. Within her deeper layers, she followed suit, understanding filling her with an urgent excitement as he went over the new plan.
"Brilliant," she said in monotone, keeping a firm lid on the electric energy now pulsing through her body. They had a plan and Alexander was headed for a specific location - somewhere they could prepare and wait for them to arrive. "I will be ready."
She knew exactly what she was going to think as well. Alexander the 'guest' had been an Agent - something she wasn't entirely sure Gwen knew yet, but no doubt she had some inkling - and it was only a matter of exaggerating the possibility that once he was returned to his original body, he would turn around and capture both targets and hand them over to the Agency. She wasn't sure if that was something he would do and after all he'd put the Agency through, it would take a lot more than just a show of good teamwork to get him returned to his previous position. After stealing from the Agency and killing his own people it was unlikely he would just be accepted back into the fold with open arms. Then again, because of his continued resilience there was a chance they'd value him just as much as they did their precious cases.
Nevermind. It didn't matter what he would do, just that the doubt she instilled was plausible enough for Gwen to fear him. If he was no longer safe, if he was no longer protecting her and it became clear he was only looking out for his own interests, she would not stay. Not only that but she'd be incredibly hurt by such revelations and doubts and most likely clam up again like she had this past year. Leaving her vulnerable and weak. A smile touched Stephanie's internal layers as her heart thundered in joy. Gwendolyn, you will be mine.
As soon as Benoit made the connection with the labs and Alexander wanting to get his body back, Stephanie instantly knew what he was talking about. She'd seen those containment chambers and the transfer units and had worked closely with a few others who were being trained on different cases to eventually make the leap into a target's body. In her mind, the rooms full of storage tanks were beautiful and she envisioned her own form held in suspension within one of them, her body left an empty shell, sleeping peacefully in life that wasn't life. Leaving behind this old form to control the body and powers of another. She could not wait. There were of course cases where the targets did not mesh well with those who entered the body and both were lost, but she had every confidence in the program's validity. She wanted that body, no matter the sacrifices she might have to endure. She'd already given everything to this case and the Agency itself. There really was nothing left for her to lose.
Thinking of the labs made Stephanie glance at her partner, even as Benoit finished detailing to his right hand about what to tell the Agency and where to move the target's body. How did he come by this sudden knowledge about where the targets were heading? Surreptitiously, her eyes followed the movement as he removed his sunglasses and tucked them away and she narrowed her gaze a little. It was definitely his specialty to gather and analyze information but this new direction had a predictive element that they hadn't had before. Had she missed something in their conversation that would point to Alexander going to the labs? And why out of the blue would he try and return to his body now? What had changed?
As they all finished breakfast, Stephanie continued to turn it over in her mind, chewing on it even as she chewed the plump and meaty sausage links that she'd ordered. She tried to remain positive and to cultivate the official lies she would be mentally feeding Gwen, while also going over the process of body transfer as it had been taught to her - just in preparation; something she did when she was bored and not thinking fixedly about Gwendolyn - but the wondering thoughts about Jason would not leave her alone. It was only after they'd paid the check and settled back into the car that it finally clicked for her. Seated in the plush leather of the backseat she looked up front just as Benoit got into the car. The glasses he'd loaned her had fallen onto the floor where his feet were and as he got in he picked them up and looked them over to assess the damage. Since they were okay, he handed them back to her and she took them with a murmured "Thank you" looking them over herself before tucking them thoughtfully into an inner pocket of her red suit jacket.
Then of course she remembered the last time she'd put them on and why she felt a measure of dread to return them to her face. And then, she looked over at Jason, remembering how he'd taken his own off after that big reveal at breakfast. She'd contacted him, hadn't she? Of course! Alexander had most likely used his powers a few times by now and released Gwen from the block Stephanie had put on her. And for whatever reason, she must have tried to spy again. Finding Stephanie inaccessible at this distance without the glasses she'd been wearing, she'd jumped and made a connection with her partner instead. They still were not close enough for Gwen's maximum distance of 1 mile while using her powers - a gap which she could breech with help from a communication device linked directly to another human being - so it was very plausible that she'd invaded Jason's consciousness and gone digging for something. Depending on what she had been looking for and how well Jason was with hiding things mentally, he would be able to infer where they were headed.
The more Stephanie thought about it, the more sure of it she became. Satisfied with the conclusions she'd reached, she leaned in close to him to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. "When they first assigned you to this case, I originally scoffed that they would select someone without an ounce of mental training. You had no experience with the type of work the others on my team had done and you stood out because of it," her lips drew nearer to his ear and despite the emotionless tone she adopted as always, there was an underlying pleasantness, an almost musical quality to her whisper. "But your reputation preceded you, and I was told you were an expert in covert operations. And I'll admit, even having very little knowledge of what it was or what it did, I was impressed with your proficiency and record regarding use of the technology you wear. I thought, 'if anyone could get her without a hitch, including all possible scenarios that could go wrong, this guy is it.' She would have been plucked from her life in the cleanest most efficient way possible. So, I accepted the application with high hopes and absolute confidence that when I sent out the order for her collection, in a few hours I'd have completed my mission and gotten what I wanted."
She paused and licked her thin, darkly lipsticked lips to wet them, the slender, pink appendage moving awfully close to Jason's neck where her mouth currently hovered just below his ear. Her voice when it came, held a bit of smoky tone to it, tantalizingly lacking emotion but enough that there was something audibly there, flittering from between her lips. "And you have done nothing but disappoint me. Every chance you get, you shove in my face how foolish and utterly stupid my decision to accept you was. I will admit, there have been minor redemptions where I felt my faith in you bolstered by a display of knowledge and skill. But when it mattered, you failed, again and again." Her body was closer now, just barely touching his arm through his power suit, the warmth of her presence felt more than any real physical contact. If anyone looked into the backseat, she merely appeared to be sharing a private conversation with him and there was nothing untoward in the way she was currently positioned - from an outside party observing, that is.
"However, for once, Fate shines her grace upon you, as your most recent failure," yes, she was letting him know- She KNEW. "Has proven incredibly instrumental in what we are going to accomplish. For once, your ineptitude and lack of training has given us an advantage to plan ahead and catch her by surprise, and will be the deciding factor on whether we succeed." A minuscule twitch curled the edges of her lips upward in the hint of a smile and the energy she felt broke through for a moment as she shifted in her seat to draw closer to him, rubbing her bosom against him lightly before retreating just an inch. Her breath, sweet with the light tang of berries and powdered sugar could be felt upon his neck and her voice came out slower, pronouncing each word with delicate care so he understood. "For that, I am most grateful...to have made that final decision... Despite the fact that you have holes in your defenses and you are weaker than what I would have preferred you to be... I feel it was meant to be..."
And suddenly she was gone, having drawn back to her side of the car, smoothing down her jacket and her mask fitting firmly back into place, looking straight ahead without another glance at him. From the way she'd spoken to him and the overt hints in her posture and gestures, he would have to be a complete idiot to not know that she was at least very pleased with him - if he was even more observant, he would understand that she was not only fond of him but even attracted to him. The whole conversation and the way she'd spoken was incredibly inappropriate for a lead to speak to a subordinate in such a way, but she just couldn't help it. She was so very happy - ecstatic about the current plan of events - she didn't care what he thought of her anymore.
*******
The proud smile on her face was replaced by a more serious expression and she was up even as Xander turned and headed out the door, following quickly after him like a slender and petite shadow. He definitely was more on edge now, planning ahead and thinking aloud about the possible pitfalls that awaited to trip them up. Finally, it wasn't a completely cool veneer, but a detectable anxiety that she could sense from both his words and as an undercurrent of the emotions running through him right now. Instead of feeling satisfied that the "great Xander" actually worried about something, she felt even more apprehensive than she had when he was constantly cracking jokes and rolling the constant threat off of his back.And of course, the way he described what they were going up against didn't boost her confidence either - blinking at him in dismay when he turned to her with that cryptic warning. What the hell? So, she didn't have the Agent 'skillz' that he had. As long as she kept a handle on her powers and didn't lose them again, she would provide enough of a compliment to his abilities to matter. She was sure of it. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mr. Perfect. Guess you'll be doing this dance alone then, right? And no doubt any help he DID get would not receive any gratitude because he was so awesome, he wouldn't need it.
Alex, as usual, was worried as well and he brought up a lot of the same concerns she had thought of but again, Xander brushed it off like he was barely listening - and he wasn't. There was a lot going on in his mind - all of it suggested at and hinted through a mental wall she still could not push through - and the current conversation, namely Alex's concerns, were not the first thing occupying the man's mind.
Her senses were open as they entered the ground floor and proceeded through the lobby, feeling the shock and nervous curiosity from not only other guests who occupied the main floor but also the staff as well. Nervously, she pushed the goggles down so they were resting on her neck again, offering uneasy smiles to anyone who met her gaze. It didn't help much and these people would remember them. So by the time they reached the taxi cab, she was more than relieved, an uneasy shiver running through her, about the same time as it did through Alex when Xander shoved the unconscious kid into the car first.
Again, she found herself standing beside a taxi, being handed money by Xander and given instructions about where to go. She knew even just from this that he was probably not going to be conscious in a few minutes and would need her to keep track of things and protect him. Although this was the part of their time together that she hated the most, being expected to know what to do in a situation where she pretty much knew only what was in front of her, she accepted it with a sigh and got into the car next to him. She could do this especially now since she in fact DID know where they were going and what they were doing. Sort of.
"Where to?" the cab driver asked in a heavy Brooklyn accent. The man had a thin, long face, short, salt and pepper hair, thick, dark eyebrows and small eyes and lips and from what she could tell by his mental landscape, this guy was a lot more different than Sal had been.
Drawn out of the current conversation between Xander and Alex, she leaned forward across the seat and asked him, "Have you heard of the city, Elmira?" It had been one of the nearest locations nestled deep in Jason's memories, and she wasn't entirely certain that Xander's body would be there, but it was worth a shot.
"Yeah, I her'd of it," Tommy McConaugh said with a shrug. In his mind a sketchy mental map appeared - even more rough and less detailed than the one for Vestal that Sal had thought of - and he estimated the distance between the two cities to be about 39 miles. If this broad thought they were going there, she could forget about it. Tommy wasn't going to go that out of the way unless there was promise of a job out there to take him back. It was just the way he was - although he liked money, he was extremely lazy and rarely if ever went for these long distance jobs.
"Well, I need you to take us near there. I will pay you double the owed amount when we get there," she said, knowing before she even offered that it would make up for the trip being so long.
But Tommy wasn't the sort to be easily placated and turned back around in his seat begrudgingly. "Yeah, a'right," he said with a sigh and pulled away from the curb in front of the hotel. The bitch better have the money, he thought to himself. At least she looked like she might be able to afford it, otherwise he woulda just said 'no' and kicked her out. And like most cabbies, he peered into his rearview mirror to look over the occupants of the back seat, finding both guys sitting with her to be asleep or something. Looked like, for a while at least, this would be a quiet drive.
With that dealt with, Gwen finally settled back in her seat, turning to Xander to find him leaning back with his eyes closed. For a moment, she felt that familiar fear from the last time she'd been in a taxi with him, but when she reached out, she realized it wasn't the same. He actually was sleeping this time. Looking over at the other body in the back seat, she wondered anxiously what she would do if David or the other one inside Nathan's body woke up. How would she convince him to not blow the car up?
Needing comfort, she reached out for Alex just as he turned to talk to her and she smiled a little that they'd thought of that at the same time. She didn't even glance at the taxi driver as she spoke in a low voice towards his ear. "The nearest facility is just outside of Elmira - and it will take us just under an hour to get there. I don't think we'll need to stop--"
"Excuse me?" Tommy's loud, accented voice interrupted, causing Gwen to look up at him. "Wazzat you say?" Looking at the guys in the backseat with her, neither had responded when either she or Tommy had spoken, so he naturally assumed she was saying something to him.
"I'm sorry," Gwen said with a nervous smile and tucking her hair behind her ear. "I guess...I was just sort of...talking to myself." An embarrassed laugh escaped her throat and she shrugged. "You know...how sometimes people do... Just to work through ideas or...comfort themselves when they're alone."
Tommy cocked a thick eyebrow at her in the rearview mirror and shook his head apathetically. "Actually, I don't know that. The only people I know about who talk to themselves are crazy folks. Are you a crazy person?" Even though his tone was light, there was something very antagonistic about what he was saying and the vibes she got from him were somewhat threatening and making her nervous.
"Um, well..." she stammered, but Tommy wasn't waiting for an answer and spoke over her.
"Because I don't rent my cab to no loonies. Ain't enough money in tha world to pay for that kinda pain in the ass." The way he was looking at her now through the rearview mirror made her swallow thickly. Even sensing that he was really just more scared of her and the possibility of insanity than any real threat to her, it was very uncomfortable to be within view of that penetrating gaze. All he wanted was for her to shut up and stop acting weird. He didn't like people who acted weird.
"I'm sorry," she finally said, nodding her head apologetically, hoping to placate him. "I just thought my friend was still awake, but he's not..." Immediately, his expression relaxed and he was no longer watching her as intensely as before, accepting that answer as an easy mistake to make. Turning to look at Xander, she was still lamenting over how she was going to communicate with Alex when Tommy invaded her thoughts again.
"Late night, huh?" he asked in a conversational tone. "Guys got tuckered out, yeah? What was ya doin'? Big party in the city? My girl and I like to party late too, so I know how these guys feel..."
Now that he was set at ease, Tommy was in a talkative mood and since it was going to be a long drive he was getting a head start on keeping himself occupied. "Yeah, listen, I've got a bit of a hangover from it - the party we were at - so if you don't mind..."
"Oh, yeah, sure! No problem. I know what that's like." Realizing his mistake, he waved at her nonchalantly with a small understanding laugh and turned back to the front seat to leave her alone. But she wasn't. Pressing her lips together, she started to lean towards Xander's body, thinking that if she could get close enough and whisper to him, that it would escape the cab driver's notice, but as soon as she started to lean, Tommy's eyes were up in the rearview, casting a smile in her direction. She gave him one back and sat back into her seat with a sigh.
Dammit! What was she going to do? With Tommy feeling uneasy about nutjobs as his fares, she wouldn't be able to get away with as much as she had with Sal, who'd been much more willing to accept that people were weird if it meant he got the money to make up for the trouble. But she needed to talk to him. It was then that she remembered the weird thing that had happened in the hotel - Alex hadn't reacted to it when it occurred, so maybe it had been nothing, but she'd felt like, for a split second at least, she'd made a connection with him mentally.
But she still didn't know how she did it. In the hotel, it had been a burst of excitement in realizing she could hear Alex again and the moment had been a slip where she'd spoken but hadn't spoken aloud. How was she suppose to recreate that here? Under Tommy's constant scrutiny and threat, she didn't really have a choice.
Watching Xander's form from the corner of her eyes she tried reaching out and thinking at the same time. Alex? Alex can you hear me? Nothing. That wasn't it. It sounded hollow like normal thoughts inside one's head normally were. Letting out a breath, and running a hand through her hair, she decided to try again, reaching out even deeper this time and practically clinging to Alex's consciousness. But apparently that wasn't it either. For 10-15 minutes, she sat there trying again and again, doing different things attempting to reconnect with him somehow, but every time she was left with her internal voice bouncing and echoing inside her own head.
Finally, at the 20 minute mark, with the car speeding out of the city and onto the highway, she focused on Alex but didn't put pressure between them, allowing his thoughts to flow into her and not fighting to pin them down. Since she'd just about given up, she wasn't really paying attention when her voice echoed inside his head,
Alex. Alex. Alex. Alex. Alex. Are you there? Can you hear me? I've been calling all day. Can you hear me?
She didn't even realize it but the next moment she was sighing and singing in both of their heads, the rest of the lyrics to the song she remembered. ♪ I'd wish they'd fix the wires cause my baby don't know, that I'm leaving in the morning and I'm ready to go. Can you hear me? Can you hear me at all? Gotta get the operator make a telephone call...♬
((if you don't know this song, that's okay. It's from the 80's))
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Thu Aug 19, 2010 12:26 am
Elmira.
He hadn’t heard of it before. He wasn’t familiar with a lot of places around here, mostly because he never stayed long enough to warrant a little research on his surroundings, but if that place truly had a lab or a base or whatever Xander was hopped up on finding, shouldn’t it have at least been able to get a name for itself? He wasn’t trying to give those guys any tips, but if he were a psychotic organization with mutilated morals and a really twisted bedside manner, he’d try to blend in with a big city where there’d be access to all the supplies he needed and more of a chance of finding someone who had a power. Or maybe it was a big city and he’d been in his room for too long. It wasn’t like he could check, not until his ‘friend’ woke up and opened his eyes.
At least they had money to get there. The credit cards were beyond helpful but he liked using cash. He’d seen too many late-night movies to be comfortable with any major technology, and no matter what Xander said, he didn’t trust those damn things around Gwen’s neck. If she wasn’t so busy using them and managing to find answers, he would have told her to get rid of them a long time ago. Maybe they should do it now. They had the location, maybe not the right one, but if they were going to that minefield of info, there had to be something less traceable that’d tell them what to look for once they got there.
He felt heaviness around him. He knew what it was. Pain. It was going to crush him soon. He could already feel it closing in...
Stupid goggles. Worthless piece of plastic and metal. All they knew how to do was hurt, scare and taunt with half-answers they weren’t even sure they could trust. Really? Xander had a hand in making them? He would’ve never guessed.
Alex did the best he could to stave it off. He tried pulling into himself, but that didn’t work. The most he could manage was a tension that would’ve been like putting his hands on his head to squeeze the agony out. He stopped when he heard Gwen’s voice, then immediately went back to it while she dealt with the driver. Of course – the one time they had something serious to talk about, they got the cabbie who was interested in his fares. Now he had to squeeze out the voice along with the headache.
Why didn’t she just try whispering? The man had to keep his eyes on the road. It wasn’t like he’d watch them in the mirror. He didn’t try asking if she wasn’t going to answer, but although he was curious to know what was going on, he didn’t think he’d have a good enough reason to wake Xander up just to pass it off as a normal conversation. He was going to be in silence for the whole trip then, huh? ‘Under an hour’, Gwen had said. It wasn’t like life could get anymore unbearable by waiting for the car to stop.
He heard his name.
It was crackly, almost like bad reception on a phone. And it sounded far away. More importantly, it sounded like it was in his head. Alex swallowed the irony, called himself crazy, then went back to focusing on the not-pain. That lasted for five entire seconds before he heard his name again, and then once more before it faded out. It was gone after. He decided not to say anything in case... in case of something. He wasn’t even sure what to be scared of anymore. Life was officially an overall horror film.
Then he heard music.
Uh... Did this count as a good enough reason? Gwen, are you hearing that? Can you hear me again?
He waited for an answer, nervous that he wasn’t going to get one. He felt stupid. He knew she had her powers back now – she’d responded, after all – but... Actually, had she been talking to him? Saying where they were going could’ve easily been a naturally kind gesture or simply picking up on what Xander had said about her having all the information. She could’ve felt like sharing, nothing more.
“I know that song,” Alex heard him mutter. Then the guy was out again, back to snoozing until he decided not to. Good ol’ floating in and out of sleep. It was useful to have around – Alex couldn’t do it, so he was happy to never have to worry whether Xander would wake up – but his refusal to be completely dead to the world had put a stop to more than one of Alex’s attempts to regain his body when the struggles had been new.
He reached out to grab something. He started with his eyes, trying to pull them up at least a hair. Nothing. Great. And thanks to Xander’s observation – and the funny beat – Alex knew the radio was on. There was a complete song playing, sounding really retro and less distant than the – uh... voice. Well, at least he could listen to that. If he had to.
Gwen, if you pick this up, tell that guy to switch to a different station. I’m not a fan of the oldies.
“Bad Connection is not an oldie,” Xander mumbled, mostly to himself.
It’s not if you’re fifty. Are you fifty?
“Eighty-seven. And I’m fat and I have a hunchback.”
Here’s hoping that’s true, Alex said. The last thing I need to see is you popping out of a box as a supermodel.
The very, very last thing anyone needed was something else for Xander to gloat over.
“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘model’...”
Go back to sleep, Alex ordered.
Xander, feeling soldier-y, obeyed for once. That was good if Gwen could hear him again, but not so good if it meant he was still utterly trapped. Oh well. At least the headache hadn’t hit him yet. Completely.
Going back to the car had been like marching towards a bonfire. He could feel the heat against his face, was well aware of how much it’d burn, and yet although he had at least two people confirmed as candidates for throwing him into the flames – the jury was still out on Frenchie, who didn’t hate Jason enough to take back his offer to pay – and although there was more than one reason the Agency would shrug and excuse the ‘justifiably harsh action’, his feet wouldn’t stop moving. He followed them outside to stand at the mouth of the volcano – yeah, volcano sounded better than a bonfire – and shake off the last of the hunger pains in his stomach, which he admit felt better now that’d he’d eaten but gave him the feeling his lead was fattening him up to kill him like a pig later. In any case, he did his duty by devotedly waiting for both senior Agents to sit before he and the Flunky took their spots.
This car was too damn small. Aaaaaand now she had the glasses in her hand.
Wait for it.
Wait for it...
There it was. Yup. She knew. He was gonna die. Not surprising, really, and he had a good run. On anyone else’s team, failing this dramatically would’ve gotten his throat slit days ago.
She was getting closer. The other two were wrapped in their decidedly un-English conversation, so he was on his own. That was probably for the best. Working with her meant he had to have some kind of skill in hiding what he was thinking, but even blaming the sudden tremor in his arm on the weakness he felt without his suit in one piece was something no one would buy. Jason took solace in the fact that no one would laugh at him for it. She was terrifying. It didn’t matter if she was putting it on or genuinely made puppies shrivel and die by looking at them because it amounted to the same thing: he was freaking out, trying very hard not to make it obvious – she caught scent of that like a shark to a dead dolphin – and doing a miserable job. Frenchie and Flunky would be oblivious, but not her. Not her at all.
Her words started off like he expected. He’d been presented as an Agent of one of the highest strains of calibre the Agency had to offer. He had a suit, for crying out loud! Nobody needed proof beyond that. But here... He didn’t know what the problem was. More than once, he’d considered cutting his losses and leaving with his reputation intact, but his lead was not the type of person to let any slight go unavenged. If he left, she’d follow and make sure he regretted it.
Man up, Jason. Stop panicking.
Nevermind. Panic, panic, panic!
She’d never been this close to him before. The neck of his suit stopped halfway up his throat, and that was exactly the spot she’d decided to hover over. It was a reflex, angling his head away. It’d been a silent movement, barely noticeable, but the instant he created that space, she moved in against it. The thin distance between her lips and his skin was rattled again and again as she spoke, blowing puffs of sugar that nearly lulled him into thinking he was safe. He wasn’t. He knew better than that. The words from her mouth and the quiet feel of her beside him brought in the very fire he knew should’ve torn him apart. It was more than he’d remembered ever going through before. When it was over and she disappeared to her end of the seat, he didn’t know if he was supposed to be relieved. The sudden absence of her was almost as bad as when she’d been there.
He sat as straight as he’d been during... it. He focused on the seat in front of him and on the back of the Flunky’s head. The need to glance at her pulled at him, but before he gave in and tried to explain that yes, he was... happy she hadn’t lost faith in him, if that was what she’d been saying – no, no, don’t think it over, don’t come up with anything that’d get him stabbed – but he intended to redeem himself. If this plan worked and he went up against Alexander again, then Jason, not nearly the pitiful lab rat she kept reducing him to, would have the advantage. He could keep him busy and the other two would join in, then his lead would handle Gwen and he’d hopefully have made it up to her. That was all it’d take: get the job done and he’d fix everything.
“We may have a problem.”
Jason almost growled.
It was Flunky who’d spoken, but Frenchie was the one to turn around and address them. Drawing from his infinite case of cigarettes, he explained simply, “The nearest facility that offers our transfer technology is in the city Elmira.”
... Elmira... Right, he knew the place.
“What’s the problem?”
“The problem is the city is an hour away,” Benoit replied. “It takes time to move a body, especially one in suspended animation. We will not have enough time.”
“I thought the point was just getting them in there,” Jason said. “Then we can swarm them.”
“That is a crucial element, yes,” he said, “but I had other ideas in mind. Why risk an attack against a target at full strength? If your Gwen is someone who needs to draw strength in her time of need, removing the source would be in our favour. I want Alexander-the-guest to begin the transfer to keep him occupied. After, you will be free to make your attack against her and we will move against him.”
Jason started thinking. What was after Elmira? What the hell did it matter? If that’s where they were going, he couldn’t just tell them ‘stop, that’s not what we booby-trapped, go to this place instead’. His case had contacted them. With his goggles.
“Charlton,” Jason said. “After Elmira, the next closest is Charlton.”
“We need them there.”
“I’m a little lacking on that end,” Jason said. “I don’t have their number.”
“But we have other resources,” Benoit said. “Jean, tell the Agency to continue Charlton shipment. I want the Elmira base stripped of security. Let them walk in and take the information they need.” He answered before anyone asked. “Alexander moves faster when things go too smoothly. If she keeps up with him, they will barely waste twenty minutes before they have everything they need. And it will give them more time to grow fond of each other. If this ‘bait’ plan is to work, I suggest we grant them privacy.”
The very mention of that drew Jason’s eyes to his lead. He snapped them back to where they were before, just in time to watch Frenchie turn around and go back to chatting in his foreign language.
More time chasing them meant more time in the car with her. He hoped to hell he didn’t piss his boss off.
He hadn’t heard of it before. He wasn’t familiar with a lot of places around here, mostly because he never stayed long enough to warrant a little research on his surroundings, but if that place truly had a lab or a base or whatever Xander was hopped up on finding, shouldn’t it have at least been able to get a name for itself? He wasn’t trying to give those guys any tips, but if he were a psychotic organization with mutilated morals and a really twisted bedside manner, he’d try to blend in with a big city where there’d be access to all the supplies he needed and more of a chance of finding someone who had a power. Or maybe it was a big city and he’d been in his room for too long. It wasn’t like he could check, not until his ‘friend’ woke up and opened his eyes.
At least they had money to get there. The credit cards were beyond helpful but he liked using cash. He’d seen too many late-night movies to be comfortable with any major technology, and no matter what Xander said, he didn’t trust those damn things around Gwen’s neck. If she wasn’t so busy using them and managing to find answers, he would have told her to get rid of them a long time ago. Maybe they should do it now. They had the location, maybe not the right one, but if they were going to that minefield of info, there had to be something less traceable that’d tell them what to look for once they got there.
He felt heaviness around him. He knew what it was. Pain. It was going to crush him soon. He could already feel it closing in...
Stupid goggles. Worthless piece of plastic and metal. All they knew how to do was hurt, scare and taunt with half-answers they weren’t even sure they could trust. Really? Xander had a hand in making them? He would’ve never guessed.
Alex did the best he could to stave it off. He tried pulling into himself, but that didn’t work. The most he could manage was a tension that would’ve been like putting his hands on his head to squeeze the agony out. He stopped when he heard Gwen’s voice, then immediately went back to it while she dealt with the driver. Of course – the one time they had something serious to talk about, they got the cabbie who was interested in his fares. Now he had to squeeze out the voice along with the headache.
Why didn’t she just try whispering? The man had to keep his eyes on the road. It wasn’t like he’d watch them in the mirror. He didn’t try asking if she wasn’t going to answer, but although he was curious to know what was going on, he didn’t think he’d have a good enough reason to wake Xander up just to pass it off as a normal conversation. He was going to be in silence for the whole trip then, huh? ‘Under an hour’, Gwen had said. It wasn’t like life could get anymore unbearable by waiting for the car to stop.
He heard his name.
It was crackly, almost like bad reception on a phone. And it sounded far away. More importantly, it sounded like it was in his head. Alex swallowed the irony, called himself crazy, then went back to focusing on the not-pain. That lasted for five entire seconds before he heard his name again, and then once more before it faded out. It was gone after. He decided not to say anything in case... in case of something. He wasn’t even sure what to be scared of anymore. Life was officially an overall horror film.
Then he heard music.
Uh... Did this count as a good enough reason? Gwen, are you hearing that? Can you hear me again?
He waited for an answer, nervous that he wasn’t going to get one. He felt stupid. He knew she had her powers back now – she’d responded, after all – but... Actually, had she been talking to him? Saying where they were going could’ve easily been a naturally kind gesture or simply picking up on what Xander had said about her having all the information. She could’ve felt like sharing, nothing more.
“I know that song,” Alex heard him mutter. Then the guy was out again, back to snoozing until he decided not to. Good ol’ floating in and out of sleep. It was useful to have around – Alex couldn’t do it, so he was happy to never have to worry whether Xander would wake up – but his refusal to be completely dead to the world had put a stop to more than one of Alex’s attempts to regain his body when the struggles had been new.
He reached out to grab something. He started with his eyes, trying to pull them up at least a hair. Nothing. Great. And thanks to Xander’s observation – and the funny beat – Alex knew the radio was on. There was a complete song playing, sounding really retro and less distant than the – uh... voice. Well, at least he could listen to that. If he had to.
Gwen, if you pick this up, tell that guy to switch to a different station. I’m not a fan of the oldies.
“Bad Connection is not an oldie,” Xander mumbled, mostly to himself.
It’s not if you’re fifty. Are you fifty?
“Eighty-seven. And I’m fat and I have a hunchback.”
Here’s hoping that’s true, Alex said. The last thing I need to see is you popping out of a box as a supermodel.
The very, very last thing anyone needed was something else for Xander to gloat over.
“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘model’...”
Go back to sleep, Alex ordered.
Xander, feeling soldier-y, obeyed for once. That was good if Gwen could hear him again, but not so good if it meant he was still utterly trapped. Oh well. At least the headache hadn’t hit him yet. Completely.
* * *
Going back to the car had been like marching towards a bonfire. He could feel the heat against his face, was well aware of how much it’d burn, and yet although he had at least two people confirmed as candidates for throwing him into the flames – the jury was still out on Frenchie, who didn’t hate Jason enough to take back his offer to pay – and although there was more than one reason the Agency would shrug and excuse the ‘justifiably harsh action’, his feet wouldn’t stop moving. He followed them outside to stand at the mouth of the volcano – yeah, volcano sounded better than a bonfire – and shake off the last of the hunger pains in his stomach, which he admit felt better now that’d he’d eaten but gave him the feeling his lead was fattening him up to kill him like a pig later. In any case, he did his duty by devotedly waiting for both senior Agents to sit before he and the Flunky took their spots.
This car was too damn small. Aaaaaand now she had the glasses in her hand.
Wait for it.
Wait for it...
There it was. Yup. She knew. He was gonna die. Not surprising, really, and he had a good run. On anyone else’s team, failing this dramatically would’ve gotten his throat slit days ago.
She was getting closer. The other two were wrapped in their decidedly un-English conversation, so he was on his own. That was probably for the best. Working with her meant he had to have some kind of skill in hiding what he was thinking, but even blaming the sudden tremor in his arm on the weakness he felt without his suit in one piece was something no one would buy. Jason took solace in the fact that no one would laugh at him for it. She was terrifying. It didn’t matter if she was putting it on or genuinely made puppies shrivel and die by looking at them because it amounted to the same thing: he was freaking out, trying very hard not to make it obvious – she caught scent of that like a shark to a dead dolphin – and doing a miserable job. Frenchie and Flunky would be oblivious, but not her. Not her at all.
Her words started off like he expected. He’d been presented as an Agent of one of the highest strains of calibre the Agency had to offer. He had a suit, for crying out loud! Nobody needed proof beyond that. But here... He didn’t know what the problem was. More than once, he’d considered cutting his losses and leaving with his reputation intact, but his lead was not the type of person to let any slight go unavenged. If he left, she’d follow and make sure he regretted it.
Man up, Jason. Stop panicking.
Nevermind. Panic, panic, panic!
She’d never been this close to him before. The neck of his suit stopped halfway up his throat, and that was exactly the spot she’d decided to hover over. It was a reflex, angling his head away. It’d been a silent movement, barely noticeable, but the instant he created that space, she moved in against it. The thin distance between her lips and his skin was rattled again and again as she spoke, blowing puffs of sugar that nearly lulled him into thinking he was safe. He wasn’t. He knew better than that. The words from her mouth and the quiet feel of her beside him brought in the very fire he knew should’ve torn him apart. It was more than he’d remembered ever going through before. When it was over and she disappeared to her end of the seat, he didn’t know if he was supposed to be relieved. The sudden absence of her was almost as bad as when she’d been there.
He sat as straight as he’d been during... it. He focused on the seat in front of him and on the back of the Flunky’s head. The need to glance at her pulled at him, but before he gave in and tried to explain that yes, he was... happy she hadn’t lost faith in him, if that was what she’d been saying – no, no, don’t think it over, don’t come up with anything that’d get him stabbed – but he intended to redeem himself. If this plan worked and he went up against Alexander again, then Jason, not nearly the pitiful lab rat she kept reducing him to, would have the advantage. He could keep him busy and the other two would join in, then his lead would handle Gwen and he’d hopefully have made it up to her. That was all it’d take: get the job done and he’d fix everything.
“We may have a problem.”
Jason almost growled.
It was Flunky who’d spoken, but Frenchie was the one to turn around and address them. Drawing from his infinite case of cigarettes, he explained simply, “The nearest facility that offers our transfer technology is in the city Elmira.”
... Elmira... Right, he knew the place.
“What’s the problem?”
“The problem is the city is an hour away,” Benoit replied. “It takes time to move a body, especially one in suspended animation. We will not have enough time.”
“I thought the point was just getting them in there,” Jason said. “Then we can swarm them.”
“That is a crucial element, yes,” he said, “but I had other ideas in mind. Why risk an attack against a target at full strength? If your Gwen is someone who needs to draw strength in her time of need, removing the source would be in our favour. I want Alexander-the-guest to begin the transfer to keep him occupied. After, you will be free to make your attack against her and we will move against him.”
Jason started thinking. What was after Elmira? What the hell did it matter? If that’s where they were going, he couldn’t just tell them ‘stop, that’s not what we booby-trapped, go to this place instead’. His case had contacted them. With his goggles.
“Charlton,” Jason said. “After Elmira, the next closest is Charlton.”
“We need them there.”
“I’m a little lacking on that end,” Jason said. “I don’t have their number.”
“But we have other resources,” Benoit said. “Jean, tell the Agency to continue Charlton shipment. I want the Elmira base stripped of security. Let them walk in and take the information they need.” He answered before anyone asked. “Alexander moves faster when things go too smoothly. If she keeps up with him, they will barely waste twenty minutes before they have everything they need. And it will give them more time to grow fond of each other. If this ‘bait’ plan is to work, I suggest we grant them privacy.”
The very mention of that drew Jason’s eyes to his lead. He snapped them back to where they were before, just in time to watch Frenchie turn around and go back to chatting in his foreign language.
More time chasing them meant more time in the car with her. He hoped to hell he didn’t piss his boss off.
Last edited by Tartra on Mon Jan 03, 2011 4:54 pm; edited 1 time in total
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Thu Aug 19, 2010 7:26 pm
Sitting with her hand supporting her head with her elbow caught in the window, she was going through the rest of the synthesized beat and melody in her head when she heard Alex's echoey voice overlap it. Slowly turning to face him with a cocked eyebrow, she got a curious expression on her face as she wondered if that was what she thought it was. The audible air in the cab was silent, all except for the small noises - the hum of the engine, the hushed whisper of the tires over the miles of road, the little creaks of the metal bracers that held the seats together, etc. There wasn't anything to hear...except what was still going on in her head right now.
It was finally confirmed when she felt a blossom of toe-tapping recognition from Xander's consciousness and his lips opened to emit his murmured voice. Oh my God! They both heard me! I made contact! Even as a sense of triumph filled her at having achieved what she was trying to do, embarrassment followed quickly after as Alex addressed her about the cab driver playing the radio. She couldn't believe she'd been playing that song in his head and he'd heard it! But thankfully, he didn't realize it had come from her and thought it was the radio playing, so as he argued with a practically sleep-talking Xander she took the opportunity to let the song in her head dwindle down in volume until it disappeared completely. Enough of that. At least Xander shared her tastes. Born in 1985, Gwen grew up listening to the music her mother liked and in her moment of hopelessness, the song about a bad telephone connection from her youth had popped into her head to comfort her.
And of course, with his eyes fixated on the road, Tommy didn't even notice that Xander had been speaking, the car jerking slightly to smash David's face against the other window as the cabbie swerved through the traffic. The blare of the horn followed the quick change of lanes, along with Tommy's angered voice, "Eh! Come on! Outta the way, fruitcake! Yeah!? Your mothah!" And every new exemplary phrase was followed by a very visual gesture in response to whatever else the other motorists were doing. Gwen only probed deep enough to know that Tommy was feeling impatient driving behind soccer mom vans and geriatric Volkswagens, so she left him to continue being diplomatic with their fellow drivers to lean toward Xander's slumbering ear.
"Yes, Alex, I can hear you," she said in a hushed whisper, wincing as Tommy put a bit of pressure on the breaks and glared into the rearview mirror.
"Don't you ride my ass!" he said, his eyes not even focused on the people sharing the taxi with him, but looking beyond out the back window as the soccer mom van inched closer to his bumper, trying to pressure him to move faster. Tommy of course responded by slowing down. "See what happens when you ride my ass? Yeah!? Shake it, ya crazy broad!" And then he was driving normal, the tragedy having been averted and he glanced down at Gwen in the rearview. "Sorry, Miss. The nutjobs is tryin' ta take ovar tha road today. I gotta tell ya, these batshit crazy Vestal drivers--ya know?"
She cast him a chagrined smile but he missed it completely as his attention was diverted elsewhere. Even so, from his mental map, she could tell they would be at their destination in about 10 or 15 minutes. With him properly distracted she leaned towards Xander again and spoke in a low voice.
"We're almost there. I really hope he has a better plan than just storming the place, Alex. I mean, with him, it'll either miraculously work out for no sane or plausible reason or everything will expectantly fall apart with us running away by the skin of our teeth. Again. And I know he'd argue that last time that wasn't his idea, but he did it at Roasters too. They were following us before that, but still Mr. Big Shot decided he needed his coffee."
The engine roared loudly as Tommy sped up a bit, looking aggressively out his right side window at someone trying to pass him. "What!? What!? Huh? You want to be first? I say, you wanna be first!? Tough titty said the kitty when the milk went dry! You wanted to go slow when I was behind ya! Now ya gonna stay at tha back a' tha line toots!"
Gwen drowned him out with a sigh and turned to look the sleeping body next to her over. As relaxed as his facial features were right now, she could almost imagine that when his eyes would pop open, it would be Alex filling that space. It had been too long since she'd seen his anxious eyes and uneasy, lopsided grin. It was becoming too normal to expect to see that cool gaze regarding her with the ready and sarcastically charming grin instead. Ignoring the further drama that Tommy was having with the other drivers and forgetting her earlier embarrassment, she relaxed and pulsed at him,
I really hope this works. Getting his body back, I mean.
She looked down at his hand resting limply on his leg and she wanted to hold it and have Alex feel her comforting touch, but she knew he wouldn't.
I really miss you...
It was hard being a babysitter constantly, especially when Xander did all sorts of ruinous things to her emotions.
"Criminy!" Tommy exclaimed as he turned off the main highway and the blare of another horn zoomed past the taxi as the other driver flew by. "What I tell ya? It'll be about 5 minutes to drive through Elmira, lady. Jus' lemme know where ya wanna stop."
She nodded silently and made a mark on her own mental map where she'd seen the facility in Jason's memories. They were so close.
After her little heart-to-heart with Jason, Stephanie had gone back to obsessively cultivating the lies she was going to feed Gwen but it all came to a halt as Jean spoke. In favor of Jason's propensity for asking the right questions, she was silent as the conversation unfolded and Benoit explained the new situation to them. Even as the plan was redirected successfully, she found herself locked within an internal struggle deep beneath the flawless mask she constantly wore. The plan made perfect sense and would most certainly ensure a greater chance of success - rushing things now would not only fail but backfire horribly on them.
But the obsession raged deep within her and she felt herself struggling with the extra time weight it put on them. Even just the few added minutes drove her insane. She was so close! So close she could almost feel what it was like to be GWEN! She needed it more than anything right now. After all the years of preparation of molding herself to be the best tool to use against the psychic, of letting her own personal life and relationships dwindle to ash, she was hungry for the final result to come to fruition. She was hungry for a new life and new body. For deeper human connection again. It was too late for her now in her own form without jeopardizing everything she'd worked for. The only way she would ever get the love that Gwen wrote about, that Gwen was capable of feeling was if Stephanie became her.
With a heavy sigh, she shoved these tumultuous emotions deeper inside and looked around the car in a bored fashion, her eyes falling upon her partner. Well, since they had some more time on their hands... Leaning close but not as close as before she spoke in a level monotone, her hand coming to rest on the seat between them and supporting her weight. "So, the goggles," she started, keeping an eye out the windows and not even really looking at him. "Without them, what happens? How long do you have - do you know? I only ask because I think it would be important for me to know if there was a certain time-line when I can expect you to become completely useless - or insane, or whatever - just so that I can act appropriately and remove you from duty at a time when it does not hinder me to keep you around. Unless, I can expect you to do so for yourself..."
Alright, so she was being a little bitchy to him now because she was feeling grumpy about her own issues. Even so, leaning in close to him like this felt almost like a magnetic pull that she could not deny or fight against. "She contacted me using the goggles... Does that hinder things? Will it help you if we re-unite them with the suit?" As she uttered the last word, her hand on the seat beside him moved slightly to brush a slender fingertip against his leg. It was a flirtatious gesture while still indicating the suit he wore in a gentle way. See? She could be...friendly...or whatever.
"Or now that she's used them, would it just be better to put a bullet in your head?" Okay. So, maybe she just enjoyed threatening him as well. Even so, her finger, with a long, well groomed fingernail, did not stop it's gentle caress. "I need to know these things, Jason. For the benefit of the mission."
It was finally confirmed when she felt a blossom of toe-tapping recognition from Xander's consciousness and his lips opened to emit his murmured voice. Oh my God! They both heard me! I made contact! Even as a sense of triumph filled her at having achieved what she was trying to do, embarrassment followed quickly after as Alex addressed her about the cab driver playing the radio. She couldn't believe she'd been playing that song in his head and he'd heard it! But thankfully, he didn't realize it had come from her and thought it was the radio playing, so as he argued with a practically sleep-talking Xander she took the opportunity to let the song in her head dwindle down in volume until it disappeared completely. Enough of that. At least Xander shared her tastes. Born in 1985, Gwen grew up listening to the music her mother liked and in her moment of hopelessness, the song about a bad telephone connection from her youth had popped into her head to comfort her.
And of course, with his eyes fixated on the road, Tommy didn't even notice that Xander had been speaking, the car jerking slightly to smash David's face against the other window as the cabbie swerved through the traffic. The blare of the horn followed the quick change of lanes, along with Tommy's angered voice, "Eh! Come on! Outta the way, fruitcake! Yeah!? Your mothah!" And every new exemplary phrase was followed by a very visual gesture in response to whatever else the other motorists were doing. Gwen only probed deep enough to know that Tommy was feeling impatient driving behind soccer mom vans and geriatric Volkswagens, so she left him to continue being diplomatic with their fellow drivers to lean toward Xander's slumbering ear.
"Yes, Alex, I can hear you," she said in a hushed whisper, wincing as Tommy put a bit of pressure on the breaks and glared into the rearview mirror.
"Don't you ride my ass!" he said, his eyes not even focused on the people sharing the taxi with him, but looking beyond out the back window as the soccer mom van inched closer to his bumper, trying to pressure him to move faster. Tommy of course responded by slowing down. "See what happens when you ride my ass? Yeah!? Shake it, ya crazy broad!" And then he was driving normal, the tragedy having been averted and he glanced down at Gwen in the rearview. "Sorry, Miss. The nutjobs is tryin' ta take ovar tha road today. I gotta tell ya, these batshit crazy Vestal drivers--ya know?"
She cast him a chagrined smile but he missed it completely as his attention was diverted elsewhere. Even so, from his mental map, she could tell they would be at their destination in about 10 or 15 minutes. With him properly distracted she leaned towards Xander again and spoke in a low voice.
"We're almost there. I really hope he has a better plan than just storming the place, Alex. I mean, with him, it'll either miraculously work out for no sane or plausible reason or everything will expectantly fall apart with us running away by the skin of our teeth. Again. And I know he'd argue that last time that wasn't his idea, but he did it at Roasters too. They were following us before that, but still Mr. Big Shot decided he needed his coffee."
The engine roared loudly as Tommy sped up a bit, looking aggressively out his right side window at someone trying to pass him. "What!? What!? Huh? You want to be first? I say, you wanna be first!? Tough titty said the kitty when the milk went dry! You wanted to go slow when I was behind ya! Now ya gonna stay at tha back a' tha line toots!"
Gwen drowned him out with a sigh and turned to look the sleeping body next to her over. As relaxed as his facial features were right now, she could almost imagine that when his eyes would pop open, it would be Alex filling that space. It had been too long since she'd seen his anxious eyes and uneasy, lopsided grin. It was becoming too normal to expect to see that cool gaze regarding her with the ready and sarcastically charming grin instead. Ignoring the further drama that Tommy was having with the other drivers and forgetting her earlier embarrassment, she relaxed and pulsed at him,
I really hope this works. Getting his body back, I mean.
She looked down at his hand resting limply on his leg and she wanted to hold it and have Alex feel her comforting touch, but she knew he wouldn't.
I really miss you...
It was hard being a babysitter constantly, especially when Xander did all sorts of ruinous things to her emotions.
"Criminy!" Tommy exclaimed as he turned off the main highway and the blare of another horn zoomed past the taxi as the other driver flew by. "What I tell ya? It'll be about 5 minutes to drive through Elmira, lady. Jus' lemme know where ya wanna stop."
She nodded silently and made a mark on her own mental map where she'd seen the facility in Jason's memories. They were so close.
****
After her little heart-to-heart with Jason, Stephanie had gone back to obsessively cultivating the lies she was going to feed Gwen but it all came to a halt as Jean spoke. In favor of Jason's propensity for asking the right questions, she was silent as the conversation unfolded and Benoit explained the new situation to them. Even as the plan was redirected successfully, she found herself locked within an internal struggle deep beneath the flawless mask she constantly wore. The plan made perfect sense and would most certainly ensure a greater chance of success - rushing things now would not only fail but backfire horribly on them.
But the obsession raged deep within her and she felt herself struggling with the extra time weight it put on them. Even just the few added minutes drove her insane. She was so close! So close she could almost feel what it was like to be GWEN! She needed it more than anything right now. After all the years of preparation of molding herself to be the best tool to use against the psychic, of letting her own personal life and relationships dwindle to ash, she was hungry for the final result to come to fruition. She was hungry for a new life and new body. For deeper human connection again. It was too late for her now in her own form without jeopardizing everything she'd worked for. The only way she would ever get the love that Gwen wrote about, that Gwen was capable of feeling was if Stephanie became her.
With a heavy sigh, she shoved these tumultuous emotions deeper inside and looked around the car in a bored fashion, her eyes falling upon her partner. Well, since they had some more time on their hands... Leaning close but not as close as before she spoke in a level monotone, her hand coming to rest on the seat between them and supporting her weight. "So, the goggles," she started, keeping an eye out the windows and not even really looking at him. "Without them, what happens? How long do you have - do you know? I only ask because I think it would be important for me to know if there was a certain time-line when I can expect you to become completely useless - or insane, or whatever - just so that I can act appropriately and remove you from duty at a time when it does not hinder me to keep you around. Unless, I can expect you to do so for yourself..."
Alright, so she was being a little bitchy to him now because she was feeling grumpy about her own issues. Even so, leaning in close to him like this felt almost like a magnetic pull that she could not deny or fight against. "She contacted me using the goggles... Does that hinder things? Will it help you if we re-unite them with the suit?" As she uttered the last word, her hand on the seat beside him moved slightly to brush a slender fingertip against his leg. It was a flirtatious gesture while still indicating the suit he wore in a gentle way. See? She could be...friendly...or whatever.
"Or now that she's used them, would it just be better to put a bullet in your head?" Okay. So, maybe she just enjoyed threatening him as well. Even so, her finger, with a long, well groomed fingernail, did not stop it's gentle caress. "I need to know these things, Jason. For the benefit of the mission."
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Thu Aug 19, 2010 10:21 pm
“Uh...” There was no way he was going to be able to answer this properly. “Well...”
What he’d give to have something to piss the Flunky off. But something that wouldn’t throw his lead into a frothing rage either, which immediately cut out his banged-out plan of just punching the guy in the back of the head. As long as they were going to converse in French and cut everybody else out of the conversation, he wasn’t exactly swimming in distractions from... this.
‘For the good of the mission’ – no, he agreed with her. It was smart to ask and he felt like an idiot for not telling her at the apartment building. There, at least, if she decided that a week wasn’t long enough for her, he would’ve been able to go back to headquarters and find a way to salvage this. He’d’ve said ‘trace’, but seeing how his day was going, he was amazed his target hadn’t found a way to shatter them. She couldn’t, obviously, because they’d been designed for any Agent that had a tendency to break walls with their face, but he wasn’t throwing theories away anymore. It was time he wrapped his head around the fact that whatever he cast off as ‘too stupid for even the biggest fool to try’ was immediately what Alexander did. He didn’t like that his case had become so interesting lately. This was supposed to have taken an afternoon, which, by the way, had not only led him to being dragged across the country, but trapping him in this entirely. If a week truly was too short for her, she’d have to put up with it. Or not. She had a gun.
“I have about five or six days before the – uh... before the effects set in.” Was ‘effects’ too dramatic? Shit. He should’ve said ‘symptoms’. No – that’d’ve made him sound diseased. Why the hell didn’t this woman come with a manual or something? “I say ‘five or six’ because certain factors might influence the time. Stress, for one thing.” Hint, hint. Her hand was right beside him and her finger was stroking his leg. Was she trying to find a weak spot? This was high-end Agency tech. It didn’t matter if her nails were made out of steel and sharpened by the power of hate itself, there was no way she was getting in there. Not for lack of trying, though. The jolt in his body his leg sent out every time she ‘nicely’ scratched him made him want to jerk away. He didn’t. He had it on good authority – meaning gut instinct – that his lead was like a bear: quick movements really pissed her off. So he stayed put and tried to ignore it. She almost ignoring him, anyway. “If everything works like it’s supposed to, this won’t be a problem. Let’s – just... get in, grab her, get out and then go to headquarters. Hell, I’ll have the stuff to work the transfer in front of me. I could do it there.”
“Could you?” Benoit’s ears had picked up on that. “You know how to do it?”
“In and out,” he said. “The only problem is that I wrote the access code in my equipment. She has it.”
“Then we are lucky to have her as our next stop, non?”
The senior Agent seemed satisfied with Jason’s news. He went back to his conversation, speaking with mildly more enthusiasm than before. That meant it was them again, him and his lead, alone. She still didn’t seem very interested. He decided to go on anyway and make sure he covered all his bases.
“If worse comes to worst, I’ll be okay. I know my limits.” All too well. “Before anything happens, I’ll go.”
“Or we can find the nearest crackwhore and see if she wants to share,” Flunky said.
“Great, except that’s not what they use to keep us in order and I don’t do that crap anyway,” Jason snapped. “I’m clean. I’m the only one who’s able to say that.”
“And I am sure the Agency will bestow upon you a medal to go with your reissued suit. You make them so proud.”
“I never asked how that piece was lost,” Benoit said, gracefully sidestepping a finger-point at Jason’s incompetence. “I assume it had something to do with...”
“Your target,” Jason obligingly finished. “He came down the stairs and snatched it off my head seconds before hitting my with his mind wave.”
“He does that.” Benoit sounded as proud as a hunter whose dog had killed a dinosaur. “But she has it, you say?”
“As far as I know.” He said that one with venom. Having an unbalanced and unstable ex-Agent stealing his equipment was traumatizing on its own, but to pass it off to some girl and let her play around with it... Jason wasn’t a bad guy. He hadn’t asked to be treated like this. “If she put it on and left it running as is, she would’ve been crippled by it in an hour. It’s synchronized to my mind. It’s been built around me, and I spent years getting it that way. But if she’s still walking around...”
It was true, wasn’t it? They’d reset it. They’d reset the entire system. Everything he’d ever worked for, every note and every code he laboriously written and gathered and stored, every feature he’d requested that’d wrapped around him in a web of invincibility would have been destroyed. Everything. Everything.
It would’ve been better if they’d smashed them. That, he could handle. His suit would’ve been mutilated so no one else could’ve touched it. But not like this. Never, never like this.
“Cheer up,” Benoit said. “They are on their way to the Elmira lab. You will have a chance at getting them then.”
“Won’t that spoil the big surprise?”
“What surprise? They know we are following,” Benoit replied. “I see nothing wrong in letting them think they stopped us for a while.”
Oh, fantastic. Jason knew what that meant. That meant a whole lot of pain in a whole lot of painful places.
“You want us to fake a fight?”
“Not fake,” the man said. “If we can catch them at Elmira, all the better for us. I simply have more faith in the plan we have developed. However, success can be defined in many ways. I agree with your lead that if it would help us complete the transfer so much faster, we should work to reunite you with your missing piece. As a side objective, of course. The suit is replaceable. Alexander and dear Gwen are not.”
“Right. Of course.” Not to Jason, they weren’t. His lead might’ve invested a lot of time in this case, but there were hundreds of other special kids roaming around, less guarded, less aware and less Alexander-y. “On the side.”
“I am glad you understand,” Frenchie said, before returning, yet again, to his fabled language.
“So.” His throat was dry. “As I was saying, she has them, she’s been toying with them, but I still need them back. I’ll have to fix everything but... I’ll be okay.”
“Otherwise, you will be a flopping, drooling mess.”
Jason scowled. Fine, the Flunky was right, but he didn’t have to be so damn gleeful to spell it out. If it wasn’t for the silencing look Benoit shot him – take that, you walking bowl of steroids – he would’ve asked his boss why she never threatened to shoot that guy instead. Then again, as far as anyone here knew, Jean had yet to screw up.
He was tired. He was very, very tired. At least the friendly clawing had become something halfway comfortable.
Saying ‘he was amazed’ was a bit of an understatement. She could talk in his head. He could hear her. She missed him... And she got just as little of an answer as when she’d been talking out loud. Naturally, right when they needed Xander to sit up and explain things, he immediately decided now would be a good time to sleep again. It might not have been the best idea if they were only five minutes away from city limits, but Alex wasn’t complaining. The guy could sleep for a month if he wanted, so long as Alex had an intact body to return to.
I’m sure he has something up his sleeve. He always does. We might be running for our lives from some freak organization, but we’re alive. That’s... Asleep or not, Xander was waiting. Alex gave in. Thank you, Xander.
“Happy to help.”
The gratitude almost made him as bouncy as his coffee. Not quite, though. Close.
Are you planning on revealing your great plan for getting in? A closet full of guns stuffed somewhere you didn’t tell us about? A tank parked in the bottom of a building?
“Tanks are hilarious to drive. We should pick one up.”
... Does the Agency have tanks?
“Better. Let’s get one of those.” So much for sleeping. Xander let out a slow breath and tensed as if he was stretching in his seat. Then, finally, he opened his eyes. “Good morning.”
Yeah. Hi. How about that plan? Xander, of course, responded to this by stretching again. Alex was immediately on guard. He didn’t need to ask his next question, but he did to make sure Gwen knew how suicidally stupid this guy was. You have a plan, right?
“I have a basic... outline... y’know – an overall idea of what we’re going to do.”
But no plan.
“No, no plan, not really.” Xander shrugged. “But I take it you two already knew that.”
Gwen seemed to have picked up on the pattern. Alex was mostly used to it. He got annoyed anyway, just to make sure everyone knew he didn’t approve of this even if he ended up – as he would – going along with it.
You’re seriously planning on storming the place, then.
“No,” Xander said slowly. “My powers – your powers, whatever –” Not whatever. Those weren’t his and he wasn’t taking them. “– are draining. Unbelievably, I think I’m going to have to use them as a last resort.”
So five people die instead of twenty.
“No – twenty people still die,” he said, “except now I use my hands. Or that gun I hope you brought.”
The gun from Roasters. Uh...
Whoops?
“See? Now it’s your fault.” Xander was completely awake. He leaned forward and said to the cab driver, waiting long enough for the man to finish his wild road rage – put a beer in his hand and take out the Agents, and there might’ve been a beautiful friendship born that instant – before saying, “We’re going to need you to pull over to that dark, scary building on the hill.”
It’s on a hill?
“It’s on a hill,” Xander confirmed, then turned his eyes back to the – holy crap, that thing was spooky. “All it needs is lightening.”
And a pile of zombies, Alex muttered.
“They’re working on that. Pretty fun stuff,” he said, as if it was something to be interested in. “Anyway, I’m sure there’s a back door somewhere.”
Alex couldn’t tell if there was a front door. The building – the one they were heading to now – reeked of mad science and sins against humanity. Maybe not lightening, but it could’ve at least invested in some neon sign that said ‘we’re the bad guys, come on in’. It was a perfectly edged, smoothly walled, light gray, faceless, emotionless cube the size of any warehouse he’d seen. It was so... bare, so bland and yet so obtrusive on the Elmira skyline that the people in this place, if they hadn’t already moved out of fear of having their soul sucked out and then getting stuffed into a tube, must’ve been on the thinnest edge possible.
Everyone here must be awful.
“Can’t be all bad. Look! There’s a Starbucks!”
Get your own body, then you can have as much damn coffee as you want.
“I got you hooked on it, didn’t I? But you can’t order like I can,” Xander chirped. “I’m gonna get a hundred letters from you begging for me to come in and get them to make it right. Well, not at Starbucks, they’re angels. I mean Roasters and everywhere.”
... Okay, maybe Alex had started liking coffee, too. That didn’t mean he needed someone else to order for him. He could handle it. He was fine.
Uh...
“Yes, I’ll write you instructions.”
... Thanks.
“Gwen,” Xander said, pulling his attention back to her. He brought on the faintest of sombre looks after he addressed her, clearly not wanting to break the airy mood building up as he got ready. “This part doesn’t... concern you, exactly. This is just me and him splitting up. You can come if you’d like, but you’re more than welcome to stay here.” He turned to David and absently grabbed the kid by the collar of his shirt. “This guy’s comin’ with me, though. That’s not up for debate.”
Breaking into tiny groups is not the best idea, Alex pointed out.
“I know, I know. But this way, she has a car.” Xander shrugged. “It’s your call. I’d like you in there but, as you very sagely guessed out, it’s ‘everything works’ or ‘nothing does’. I don’t want you getting hurt. Or killed. Or strapped to a chair to have your brain sucked out of your body.”
You never let me choose what to do.
“And you have repeatedly proven why that is. Get the card for this cab. I like this guy,” he said, reaching over David to open the door and roll the boy out. “Let’s bounce!”
What he’d give to have something to piss the Flunky off. But something that wouldn’t throw his lead into a frothing rage either, which immediately cut out his banged-out plan of just punching the guy in the back of the head. As long as they were going to converse in French and cut everybody else out of the conversation, he wasn’t exactly swimming in distractions from... this.
‘For the good of the mission’ – no, he agreed with her. It was smart to ask and he felt like an idiot for not telling her at the apartment building. There, at least, if she decided that a week wasn’t long enough for her, he would’ve been able to go back to headquarters and find a way to salvage this. He’d’ve said ‘trace’, but seeing how his day was going, he was amazed his target hadn’t found a way to shatter them. She couldn’t, obviously, because they’d been designed for any Agent that had a tendency to break walls with their face, but he wasn’t throwing theories away anymore. It was time he wrapped his head around the fact that whatever he cast off as ‘too stupid for even the biggest fool to try’ was immediately what Alexander did. He didn’t like that his case had become so interesting lately. This was supposed to have taken an afternoon, which, by the way, had not only led him to being dragged across the country, but trapping him in this entirely. If a week truly was too short for her, she’d have to put up with it. Or not. She had a gun.
“I have about five or six days before the – uh... before the effects set in.” Was ‘effects’ too dramatic? Shit. He should’ve said ‘symptoms’. No – that’d’ve made him sound diseased. Why the hell didn’t this woman come with a manual or something? “I say ‘five or six’ because certain factors might influence the time. Stress, for one thing.” Hint, hint. Her hand was right beside him and her finger was stroking his leg. Was she trying to find a weak spot? This was high-end Agency tech. It didn’t matter if her nails were made out of steel and sharpened by the power of hate itself, there was no way she was getting in there. Not for lack of trying, though. The jolt in his body his leg sent out every time she ‘nicely’ scratched him made him want to jerk away. He didn’t. He had it on good authority – meaning gut instinct – that his lead was like a bear: quick movements really pissed her off. So he stayed put and tried to ignore it. She almost ignoring him, anyway. “If everything works like it’s supposed to, this won’t be a problem. Let’s – just... get in, grab her, get out and then go to headquarters. Hell, I’ll have the stuff to work the transfer in front of me. I could do it there.”
“Could you?” Benoit’s ears had picked up on that. “You know how to do it?”
“In and out,” he said. “The only problem is that I wrote the access code in my equipment. She has it.”
“Then we are lucky to have her as our next stop, non?”
The senior Agent seemed satisfied with Jason’s news. He went back to his conversation, speaking with mildly more enthusiasm than before. That meant it was them again, him and his lead, alone. She still didn’t seem very interested. He decided to go on anyway and make sure he covered all his bases.
“If worse comes to worst, I’ll be okay. I know my limits.” All too well. “Before anything happens, I’ll go.”
“Or we can find the nearest crackwhore and see if she wants to share,” Flunky said.
“Great, except that’s not what they use to keep us in order and I don’t do that crap anyway,” Jason snapped. “I’m clean. I’m the only one who’s able to say that.”
“And I am sure the Agency will bestow upon you a medal to go with your reissued suit. You make them so proud.”
“I never asked how that piece was lost,” Benoit said, gracefully sidestepping a finger-point at Jason’s incompetence. “I assume it had something to do with...”
“Your target,” Jason obligingly finished. “He came down the stairs and snatched it off my head seconds before hitting my with his mind wave.”
“He does that.” Benoit sounded as proud as a hunter whose dog had killed a dinosaur. “But she has it, you say?”
“As far as I know.” He said that one with venom. Having an unbalanced and unstable ex-Agent stealing his equipment was traumatizing on its own, but to pass it off to some girl and let her play around with it... Jason wasn’t a bad guy. He hadn’t asked to be treated like this. “If she put it on and left it running as is, she would’ve been crippled by it in an hour. It’s synchronized to my mind. It’s been built around me, and I spent years getting it that way. But if she’s still walking around...”
It was true, wasn’t it? They’d reset it. They’d reset the entire system. Everything he’d ever worked for, every note and every code he laboriously written and gathered and stored, every feature he’d requested that’d wrapped around him in a web of invincibility would have been destroyed. Everything. Everything.
It would’ve been better if they’d smashed them. That, he could handle. His suit would’ve been mutilated so no one else could’ve touched it. But not like this. Never, never like this.
“Cheer up,” Benoit said. “They are on their way to the Elmira lab. You will have a chance at getting them then.”
“Won’t that spoil the big surprise?”
“What surprise? They know we are following,” Benoit replied. “I see nothing wrong in letting them think they stopped us for a while.”
Oh, fantastic. Jason knew what that meant. That meant a whole lot of pain in a whole lot of painful places.
“You want us to fake a fight?”
“Not fake,” the man said. “If we can catch them at Elmira, all the better for us. I simply have more faith in the plan we have developed. However, success can be defined in many ways. I agree with your lead that if it would help us complete the transfer so much faster, we should work to reunite you with your missing piece. As a side objective, of course. The suit is replaceable. Alexander and dear Gwen are not.”
“Right. Of course.” Not to Jason, they weren’t. His lead might’ve invested a lot of time in this case, but there were hundreds of other special kids roaming around, less guarded, less aware and less Alexander-y. “On the side.”
“I am glad you understand,” Frenchie said, before returning, yet again, to his fabled language.
“So.” His throat was dry. “As I was saying, she has them, she’s been toying with them, but I still need them back. I’ll have to fix everything but... I’ll be okay.”
“Otherwise, you will be a flopping, drooling mess.”
Jason scowled. Fine, the Flunky was right, but he didn’t have to be so damn gleeful to spell it out. If it wasn’t for the silencing look Benoit shot him – take that, you walking bowl of steroids – he would’ve asked his boss why she never threatened to shoot that guy instead. Then again, as far as anyone here knew, Jean had yet to screw up.
He was tired. He was very, very tired. At least the friendly clawing had become something halfway comfortable.
* * *
Saying ‘he was amazed’ was a bit of an understatement. She could talk in his head. He could hear her. She missed him... And she got just as little of an answer as when she’d been talking out loud. Naturally, right when they needed Xander to sit up and explain things, he immediately decided now would be a good time to sleep again. It might not have been the best idea if they were only five minutes away from city limits, but Alex wasn’t complaining. The guy could sleep for a month if he wanted, so long as Alex had an intact body to return to.
I’m sure he has something up his sleeve. He always does. We might be running for our lives from some freak organization, but we’re alive. That’s... Asleep or not, Xander was waiting. Alex gave in. Thank you, Xander.
“Happy to help.”
The gratitude almost made him as bouncy as his coffee. Not quite, though. Close.
Are you planning on revealing your great plan for getting in? A closet full of guns stuffed somewhere you didn’t tell us about? A tank parked in the bottom of a building?
“Tanks are hilarious to drive. We should pick one up.”
... Does the Agency have tanks?
“Better. Let’s get one of those.” So much for sleeping. Xander let out a slow breath and tensed as if he was stretching in his seat. Then, finally, he opened his eyes. “Good morning.”
Yeah. Hi. How about that plan? Xander, of course, responded to this by stretching again. Alex was immediately on guard. He didn’t need to ask his next question, but he did to make sure Gwen knew how suicidally stupid this guy was. You have a plan, right?
“I have a basic... outline... y’know – an overall idea of what we’re going to do.”
But no plan.
“No, no plan, not really.” Xander shrugged. “But I take it you two already knew that.”
Gwen seemed to have picked up on the pattern. Alex was mostly used to it. He got annoyed anyway, just to make sure everyone knew he didn’t approve of this even if he ended up – as he would – going along with it.
You’re seriously planning on storming the place, then.
“No,” Xander said slowly. “My powers – your powers, whatever –” Not whatever. Those weren’t his and he wasn’t taking them. “– are draining. Unbelievably, I think I’m going to have to use them as a last resort.”
So five people die instead of twenty.
“No – twenty people still die,” he said, “except now I use my hands. Or that gun I hope you brought.”
The gun from Roasters. Uh...
Whoops?
“See? Now it’s your fault.” Xander was completely awake. He leaned forward and said to the cab driver, waiting long enough for the man to finish his wild road rage – put a beer in his hand and take out the Agents, and there might’ve been a beautiful friendship born that instant – before saying, “We’re going to need you to pull over to that dark, scary building on the hill.”
It’s on a hill?
“It’s on a hill,” Xander confirmed, then turned his eyes back to the – holy crap, that thing was spooky. “All it needs is lightening.”
And a pile of zombies, Alex muttered.
“They’re working on that. Pretty fun stuff,” he said, as if it was something to be interested in. “Anyway, I’m sure there’s a back door somewhere.”
Alex couldn’t tell if there was a front door. The building – the one they were heading to now – reeked of mad science and sins against humanity. Maybe not lightening, but it could’ve at least invested in some neon sign that said ‘we’re the bad guys, come on in’. It was a perfectly edged, smoothly walled, light gray, faceless, emotionless cube the size of any warehouse he’d seen. It was so... bare, so bland and yet so obtrusive on the Elmira skyline that the people in this place, if they hadn’t already moved out of fear of having their soul sucked out and then getting stuffed into a tube, must’ve been on the thinnest edge possible.
Everyone here must be awful.
“Can’t be all bad. Look! There’s a Starbucks!”
Get your own body, then you can have as much damn coffee as you want.
“I got you hooked on it, didn’t I? But you can’t order like I can,” Xander chirped. “I’m gonna get a hundred letters from you begging for me to come in and get them to make it right. Well, not at Starbucks, they’re angels. I mean Roasters and everywhere.”
... Okay, maybe Alex had started liking coffee, too. That didn’t mean he needed someone else to order for him. He could handle it. He was fine.
Uh...
“Yes, I’ll write you instructions.”
... Thanks.
“Gwen,” Xander said, pulling his attention back to her. He brought on the faintest of sombre looks after he addressed her, clearly not wanting to break the airy mood building up as he got ready. “This part doesn’t... concern you, exactly. This is just me and him splitting up. You can come if you’d like, but you’re more than welcome to stay here.” He turned to David and absently grabbed the kid by the collar of his shirt. “This guy’s comin’ with me, though. That’s not up for debate.”
Breaking into tiny groups is not the best idea, Alex pointed out.
“I know, I know. But this way, she has a car.” Xander shrugged. “It’s your call. I’d like you in there but, as you very sagely guessed out, it’s ‘everything works’ or ‘nothing does’. I don’t want you getting hurt. Or killed. Or strapped to a chair to have your brain sucked out of your body.”
You never let me choose what to do.
“And you have repeatedly proven why that is. Get the card for this cab. I like this guy,” he said, reaching over David to open the door and roll the boy out. “Let’s bounce!”
Last edited by Tartra on Mon Jan 03, 2011 5:31 pm; edited 1 time in total
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Fri Aug 20, 2010 6:14 pm
Stephanie might not have been psychic, but she could feel the emotions moving through her partner like an undecided storm just from the small bit of contact in her finger still lightly brushing against him. She would have liked to look directly at him and see them all playing out across his features, but she refused to face him right now. He had this way about his eyes that brought out a sense of empathy in her and right now she was enjoying unsettling him too much.
It was hard to say if the fear he displayed was a normal reaction to her being a lead Agent or if it had to do with her specifically - and not having the complete suit probably had an affect on his reactions as well, although she'd detected a measure of anxiety from him before he'd lost the goggles. Either way, the sense of power it gave her was exhilarating. Although on the outside nobody would be able to tell she was feeling anything other than bored, inside she was like a live-wire, pulsing with every pause in his voice to swallow thickly or nervous glance at her from the corner of his eye that she caught sight of peripherally. She'd found a new, interesting toy in Jason.
The most fascinating thing about it all was that she could tell he wanted nothing more right now than to move away from her, to break off contact of any kind. If he did such a thing, of course, she'd react with anger and punish him severely, but he wouldn't be wrong. Instead, rather than risk her more violent wrath, and despite it making him uncomfortable, he stayed put. More importantly, he said nothing. She had to admit that getting his heart rate up was very intriguing, but she also liked her ability to push him around. How far would he let her go before he decided to smack her hand away and demand some space?
Not that she let her new entertainment distract her, his reactions to every little gentle scrape of her nail and the pleasurable feeling she got as a result of it, occupying about 1/3 of her attention span. The rest she devoted to listening and planning with the information he provided. 6 days? She'd been right in her original estimates then - he and Gwen were operating on the same time-line. At least until he got back what was his. Her attention was diverted back to him right around the time Benoit was intruding upon the conversation as well. So, Jason had hidden talents that made him even more useful. Internally she grinned, pleased with the information and practically dreaming about what it would be like once they arrived to engage the targets again. It felt like this car ride had been going on forever.
Once again, they found the Frenchmen joining the conversation as Jean decided to input a possible solution to Jason's current problem. The soft scratching of her nail against the fabric of his suit slowed somewhat as she felt beneath her fingertip the muscles in his leg tense with a pulsating jolt as he responded to the other man's barbs. Yes, they had mentioned that there were drugs available for dealing with his condition and they'd said before that Jason's refusal to take them was the reason why he was experiencing such a severe withdrawal.
It was a very stupid thing for him to do - if there were safeguards in place to keep him from suffering the more detrimental effects, then not taking them, even with the supposed addictive qualities of the drugs, was not a smart move. But there was a part of Stephanie that admired him for standing strong against weakening himself in such a way. An addiction in and of itself was a weakness and although the suit acted that way in the first place, he still had enough mind not to get himself tied up in more knots than he could handle - if you could call his 6 day limit "handling" it. Anyways, it was still really foolish.
When Gwen came up in conversation, Stephanie's finger had returned to it's more repetitive stroking, almost in a comforting and calming gesture for him as she heard the dismay enter his voice and fill the silence that followed as he trailed off uselessly. Poor baby. Not only had they stolen his toy but Gwen was playing with it and making it hers - that brought up an interesting question, didn't it?
The fight at Elmira was going to be grand, she could tell. Not only would Stephanie be more prepared this time with all her walls in place, but Gwen would also be a little more used to her powers as well. Not enough to threaten Stephanie, but it might be hard to unsettle her with the consuming effects of her mental blocks. At least not at the level she'd previously employed them which Gwen had only gotten a taste of what Stephanie could do before. Trying to read Stephanie's mind would be like landing and skidding face first on asphalt at 90 mph. She couldn't wait.
Her attention was diverted back to Jason briefly as he finally grew silent and she could feel the placation coming off of him in waves. There was still a sense of anxiety about him, but she suspected it had nothing to do with her caressing finger. He'd grown at ease with her threatening/flirtatious touch. Time to step it up.
Scooting over so she sat right in the middle between the two front seats, she put her hand fully on his leg about mid-thigh to give her leverage and push herself forward so her head poked between Benoit and Jean. As she intruded upon their conversation, she kept her hand where it was, merely resting on his now tense leg.
"So, let me get this straight, just to make sure I understand the whole plan as it stands now - I do apologize if I've gotten anything mixed up, but your accent tends to make things difficult," she said in monotone. "His body is at Elmira but we're moving it to Charlton and clearing Elmira out of all security so they have access to the labs and computers and will probably figure out what we've done and where to go. But we're going to meet them at Elmira anyways and cause some moderate trouble - hopefully get them both if we can, but not force it if it's not in the cards - and try and get the goggles back from them," at this point, her hand curled around his thigh putting a bit of pressure and digging her nails into him, the muscles in his leg instantly jolting tensely in a very satisfying way. Her body obscured any view of her hand and the leg it was on from the sight of those in the front seat, so if he made any noise, no one but she would know why.
"But we're hoping for them to proceed to Charlton, where the body is going to be along with the equipment for a transfer, and we'll follow them there where there WILL be security and opposition for them to fight. And we're going to wait until Alexander is in the process of reversing the transfer before we make our final move. Is that right?"
Oh my God, he's trembling, she thought with a small inner squeal of delight, her fingernails digging into his suit so tightly there was no doubt he could feel it on some level and a slight tremor rippled beneath her fingers through his muscles. How much does it take, Jason? she thought airily as she scraped her nails like claws further up his thigh towards his groin, only stopping inches away when they made an offensive noise on his suit. Move. I dare you. Better yet, say something, you big pussy. Cry out for your French friends to save you.
"Like I've mentioned before, as soon as I'm within range, she will be able to detect me - if she's not overly preoccupied - and will no doubt attempt to read my thoughts if she thinks she can catch me unawares, in an attempt to get a head start on anything we might be planning."
No longer was this a quiet gesture with a way to explain it away as something innocent or misunderstood. He may not be able to feel the full pinch of her manicure - she knew the suit gave him some level of resistance - but he felt something and there was no ignoring it. It would be easy for her to silence him quickly if he said anything, but the question was, would he? Or would he keep quiet...like a good boy? Either way, this was the most entertaining car ride they'd all been in together and the lust for battle raged through her veins even as she awaited confirmation of the plan as she assumed it was going to play out.
To further exacerbate things, she turned back to Jason briefly and asked, "I do not know much about the suit, so I'm not really sure what resistance Gwendolyn has against them. Since she seems to have a natural skill for using them it appears they have not harmed her. But will it have any other affect on her?"
Her dull green eyes stared at him from over her shoulder full of emptiness and her face revealed nothing. She did release the pressure and stopped digging her nails into him so he could answer her however, she did not take her hand from his leg.
****
Xander was speaking long before his eyes were open again and she was relieved to have him here and not lost to the deeper sleep when the exhaustion took him over. His input thus far had been minimal as far as usefulness until he finally opened his eyes and Alex asked him more directly about what they were going to do. Through all of this thus far she wasn't distracted by his light banter and was fixated on getting an answer. When he admitted that there was no plan, she was not as disappointed as she thought she should be. Had she really expected anything less? At Xander's question, Gwen nodded her head lightly with a resigned quirk to her lips. Yes, she'd pretty much known he probably didn't have a plan.
Okay, so not storming the place, and he was still going to kill people. Got it. Wait...where did that leave her? At the mention of the building on the hill, she saw the place in Tommy's mind before she actually turned her own eyes to look at it. Jesus, where was Obvious Man when you needed him?
"Whoa, this is some freaky shit," Tommy uttered as he drove steadily towards the tall building. "Are you guys on the X-Files or sumethin'?"
Gwen gave the guy a look. What an idiot. Why did everyone who encountered Xander - including her - associate what he was involved in with movies or television? It really was too insane to be truly happening and it had only taken her a little over 24 hours of being immersed in his world for her to start taking it for granted.
Then Alex and Xander were busily talking about coffee - a sentimental moment of almost goodbye between them - as she started to reach out and mentally probe the place. The circumference for the entire building was about a mile wide, so when she reached into it, she could feel just about everyone inside and thus had a clear map and idea of every inch. Her attention was drawn back to Xander when he addressed her and she listened to what he had to say patiently. She...could stay here? What? That hadn't even occurred to her as a possible option and now that it was available, she wasn't sure whether she would take it or not.
With how heavily her heart was beating thinking about how vulnerable she'd be walking into this lion's den, her heart nearly exploded when she thought of Xander and Alex going in there alone and possibly not coming back. She sat in the car for a few minutes longer going over it in her head and idly playing with the goggles still strapped loosely around her neck, before she made her choice. No. There was no way she was going to let them go in there alone. Not that they really needed her help, but it wouldn't hurt to have an extra set of hands around.
Reaching into her pocket, she handed the credit card Xander had given her to Tommy and said, "Charge double, remember?" He nodded in a chagrined way, feeling uncharacteristically flattered by Xander's praise and wanting to stick around to find out what these strange folks were up to, but charged her double just like she'd originally promised him. As he handed the card back, he looked at her like he wanted to say something and she probed his head impatiently to find out what it was.
Tell the Smoking Man ole' Tommy said 'Hi'. He licked his lips as he reached with the card across the seat barrier to give it back to her and he was going to say it before Gwen shook her head.
"Oh, my God. For real. Just shut up." This wasn't the X-Files! He looked somewhat deflated by the tone she took with him, but he said nothing as she slipped out of the car and quickly caught up to Xander.
"Sorry, I couldn't do it," she said as she caught up with him, watching as Tommy drove off back down the hill. "Somebody would have died by the time you got back. This way, at least people you DON'T like can meet the end of my jujutsu wielding fist."
It was hard to say if the fear he displayed was a normal reaction to her being a lead Agent or if it had to do with her specifically - and not having the complete suit probably had an affect on his reactions as well, although she'd detected a measure of anxiety from him before he'd lost the goggles. Either way, the sense of power it gave her was exhilarating. Although on the outside nobody would be able to tell she was feeling anything other than bored, inside she was like a live-wire, pulsing with every pause in his voice to swallow thickly or nervous glance at her from the corner of his eye that she caught sight of peripherally. She'd found a new, interesting toy in Jason.
The most fascinating thing about it all was that she could tell he wanted nothing more right now than to move away from her, to break off contact of any kind. If he did such a thing, of course, she'd react with anger and punish him severely, but he wouldn't be wrong. Instead, rather than risk her more violent wrath, and despite it making him uncomfortable, he stayed put. More importantly, he said nothing. She had to admit that getting his heart rate up was very intriguing, but she also liked her ability to push him around. How far would he let her go before he decided to smack her hand away and demand some space?
Not that she let her new entertainment distract her, his reactions to every little gentle scrape of her nail and the pleasurable feeling she got as a result of it, occupying about 1/3 of her attention span. The rest she devoted to listening and planning with the information he provided. 6 days? She'd been right in her original estimates then - he and Gwen were operating on the same time-line. At least until he got back what was his. Her attention was diverted back to him right around the time Benoit was intruding upon the conversation as well. So, Jason had hidden talents that made him even more useful. Internally she grinned, pleased with the information and practically dreaming about what it would be like once they arrived to engage the targets again. It felt like this car ride had been going on forever.
Once again, they found the Frenchmen joining the conversation as Jean decided to input a possible solution to Jason's current problem. The soft scratching of her nail against the fabric of his suit slowed somewhat as she felt beneath her fingertip the muscles in his leg tense with a pulsating jolt as he responded to the other man's barbs. Yes, they had mentioned that there were drugs available for dealing with his condition and they'd said before that Jason's refusal to take them was the reason why he was experiencing such a severe withdrawal.
It was a very stupid thing for him to do - if there were safeguards in place to keep him from suffering the more detrimental effects, then not taking them, even with the supposed addictive qualities of the drugs, was not a smart move. But there was a part of Stephanie that admired him for standing strong against weakening himself in such a way. An addiction in and of itself was a weakness and although the suit acted that way in the first place, he still had enough mind not to get himself tied up in more knots than he could handle - if you could call his 6 day limit "handling" it. Anyways, it was still really foolish.
When Gwen came up in conversation, Stephanie's finger had returned to it's more repetitive stroking, almost in a comforting and calming gesture for him as she heard the dismay enter his voice and fill the silence that followed as he trailed off uselessly. Poor baby. Not only had they stolen his toy but Gwen was playing with it and making it hers - that brought up an interesting question, didn't it?
The fight at Elmira was going to be grand, she could tell. Not only would Stephanie be more prepared this time with all her walls in place, but Gwen would also be a little more used to her powers as well. Not enough to threaten Stephanie, but it might be hard to unsettle her with the consuming effects of her mental blocks. At least not at the level she'd previously employed them which Gwen had only gotten a taste of what Stephanie could do before. Trying to read Stephanie's mind would be like landing and skidding face first on asphalt at 90 mph. She couldn't wait.
Her attention was diverted back to Jason briefly as he finally grew silent and she could feel the placation coming off of him in waves. There was still a sense of anxiety about him, but she suspected it had nothing to do with her caressing finger. He'd grown at ease with her threatening/flirtatious touch. Time to step it up.
Scooting over so she sat right in the middle between the two front seats, she put her hand fully on his leg about mid-thigh to give her leverage and push herself forward so her head poked between Benoit and Jean. As she intruded upon their conversation, she kept her hand where it was, merely resting on his now tense leg.
"So, let me get this straight, just to make sure I understand the whole plan as it stands now - I do apologize if I've gotten anything mixed up, but your accent tends to make things difficult," she said in monotone. "His body is at Elmira but we're moving it to Charlton and clearing Elmira out of all security so they have access to the labs and computers and will probably figure out what we've done and where to go. But we're going to meet them at Elmira anyways and cause some moderate trouble - hopefully get them both if we can, but not force it if it's not in the cards - and try and get the goggles back from them," at this point, her hand curled around his thigh putting a bit of pressure and digging her nails into him, the muscles in his leg instantly jolting tensely in a very satisfying way. Her body obscured any view of her hand and the leg it was on from the sight of those in the front seat, so if he made any noise, no one but she would know why.
"But we're hoping for them to proceed to Charlton, where the body is going to be along with the equipment for a transfer, and we'll follow them there where there WILL be security and opposition for them to fight. And we're going to wait until Alexander is in the process of reversing the transfer before we make our final move. Is that right?"
Oh my God, he's trembling, she thought with a small inner squeal of delight, her fingernails digging into his suit so tightly there was no doubt he could feel it on some level and a slight tremor rippled beneath her fingers through his muscles. How much does it take, Jason? she thought airily as she scraped her nails like claws further up his thigh towards his groin, only stopping inches away when they made an offensive noise on his suit. Move. I dare you. Better yet, say something, you big pussy. Cry out for your French friends to save you.
"Like I've mentioned before, as soon as I'm within range, she will be able to detect me - if she's not overly preoccupied - and will no doubt attempt to read my thoughts if she thinks she can catch me unawares, in an attempt to get a head start on anything we might be planning."
No longer was this a quiet gesture with a way to explain it away as something innocent or misunderstood. He may not be able to feel the full pinch of her manicure - she knew the suit gave him some level of resistance - but he felt something and there was no ignoring it. It would be easy for her to silence him quickly if he said anything, but the question was, would he? Or would he keep quiet...like a good boy? Either way, this was the most entertaining car ride they'd all been in together and the lust for battle raged through her veins even as she awaited confirmation of the plan as she assumed it was going to play out.
To further exacerbate things, she turned back to Jason briefly and asked, "I do not know much about the suit, so I'm not really sure what resistance Gwendolyn has against them. Since she seems to have a natural skill for using them it appears they have not harmed her. But will it have any other affect on her?"
Her dull green eyes stared at him from over her shoulder full of emptiness and her face revealed nothing. She did release the pressure and stopped digging her nails into him so he could answer her however, she did not take her hand from his leg.
****
Xander was speaking long before his eyes were open again and she was relieved to have him here and not lost to the deeper sleep when the exhaustion took him over. His input thus far had been minimal as far as usefulness until he finally opened his eyes and Alex asked him more directly about what they were going to do. Through all of this thus far she wasn't distracted by his light banter and was fixated on getting an answer. When he admitted that there was no plan, she was not as disappointed as she thought she should be. Had she really expected anything less? At Xander's question, Gwen nodded her head lightly with a resigned quirk to her lips. Yes, she'd pretty much known he probably didn't have a plan.
Okay, so not storming the place, and he was still going to kill people. Got it. Wait...where did that leave her? At the mention of the building on the hill, she saw the place in Tommy's mind before she actually turned her own eyes to look at it. Jesus, where was Obvious Man when you needed him?
"Whoa, this is some freaky shit," Tommy uttered as he drove steadily towards the tall building. "Are you guys on the X-Files or sumethin'?"
Gwen gave the guy a look. What an idiot. Why did everyone who encountered Xander - including her - associate what he was involved in with movies or television? It really was too insane to be truly happening and it had only taken her a little over 24 hours of being immersed in his world for her to start taking it for granted.
Then Alex and Xander were busily talking about coffee - a sentimental moment of almost goodbye between them - as she started to reach out and mentally probe the place. The circumference for the entire building was about a mile wide, so when she reached into it, she could feel just about everyone inside and thus had a clear map and idea of every inch. Her attention was drawn back to Xander when he addressed her and she listened to what he had to say patiently. She...could stay here? What? That hadn't even occurred to her as a possible option and now that it was available, she wasn't sure whether she would take it or not.
With how heavily her heart was beating thinking about how vulnerable she'd be walking into this lion's den, her heart nearly exploded when she thought of Xander and Alex going in there alone and possibly not coming back. She sat in the car for a few minutes longer going over it in her head and idly playing with the goggles still strapped loosely around her neck, before she made her choice. No. There was no way she was going to let them go in there alone. Not that they really needed her help, but it wouldn't hurt to have an extra set of hands around.
Reaching into her pocket, she handed the credit card Xander had given her to Tommy and said, "Charge double, remember?" He nodded in a chagrined way, feeling uncharacteristically flattered by Xander's praise and wanting to stick around to find out what these strange folks were up to, but charged her double just like she'd originally promised him. As he handed the card back, he looked at her like he wanted to say something and she probed his head impatiently to find out what it was.
Tell the Smoking Man ole' Tommy said 'Hi'. He licked his lips as he reached with the card across the seat barrier to give it back to her and he was going to say it before Gwen shook her head.
"Oh, my God. For real. Just shut up." This wasn't the X-Files! He looked somewhat deflated by the tone she took with him, but he said nothing as she slipped out of the car and quickly caught up to Xander.
"Sorry, I couldn't do it," she said as she caught up with him, watching as Tommy drove off back down the hill. "Somebody would have died by the time you got back. This way, at least people you DON'T like can meet the end of my jujutsu wielding fist."
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Fri Aug 20, 2010 10:05 pm
Focus. Focus. Focus. Focus.
WHERE THE FUCK WAS THAT HAND GOING?!
Scraping at his leg? Okay! Sure. He wasn’t going to say anything because the suit was armoured, and even if it felt like it way through the material, she wasn’t actually going to rip it apart. Hand on his leg? Alright! Alright, fine! She was sitting up, she needed something to put her weight on and he was happy he was being useful – just... ecstatic. Really. But this? This?
This was sexual harassment.
That’s what it was! He wasn’t aiming for pathetic or... or victimized but – this was...
Whatever, just ignore it and it’ll go away. Ignore it and it’ll go away. She was digging her fingers into his thigh – it was barely his thigh anymore, but ‘at least’ she’d stopped before things got ‘crazy’ – and doing exactly the opposite of what he wanted. Jason couldn’t take this. He couldn’t breathe. If he’d had his goggles on, his eyes would’ve been masked and he could’ve squinted and squirmed behind them as much as he’d wanted. There was nothing shielding him from her now, other than a very weak and desperate hope that she’d get bored of him and let him... maybe... Seriously – no one else was seeing this? He knew the Flunky didn’t like him, but Frenchie should’ve had something to say. It was as if they were all in on this. Yeah. Hey – that was probably it. Big ol’ joke on Jason – ‘run your hand up his crotch and see if you can him dance’. That wasn’t happening.
Fine, a little dancing, but nothing more after that.
He tensed. He twitched his leg as quietly as he could, ready to pass it off as getting restless in this car – and wildly uncomfortable, but she’d love that – on the off-chance anyone asked. They wouldn't. Benoit hadn’t needed to turn around when his lead sat up to talk to him and he was content to stay sitting forward as he thought over his answer. With Flunky driving and his eyes on the road, her hand could’ve been made of fireworks and making whistling sounds and they would’ve been too preoccupied to look.
Settle down. Breathe. She was screwing with him because he’d messed up. This was her way of getting back at him. He’d live with it. To prove it to her and to himself, he spent a second sucking in some air before diving in to reply.
“If she reset the system –” It hurt to say. “– then... no. Even if she’s been using it day and night since she got her hands on them, there’s no effects she would’ve developed. The...” Jason fought for a better word than the ones his mind was offering up. It’d be nice if he could have his leg back, by the way. “The obsession only begins after months and months of customization. It takes a year for it to be part of you. Until then, it’s fancy technology.”
And then after that, people would up like he did.
‘Natural skill’. It pissed him off. He’d worked tirelessly memorizing every facet of this suit but she took to it a like a dog in heat? Don’t think about heat, don’t think about heat – anyway. She didn’t know everything. Maybe enough to ruin his day, but when it came down to it, he had nothing to worry about. He’d get them back, especially if he had three others helping. It was just a matter of when and how many mental clamps he’d have put on his head. Before, in his target’s room, he’d idly browsed through her listed powers, but when his lead took the time to emphasize how dangerous she’d be if she reached her full strength, it resounded more heavily than basic text.
“Then let us hope she is too distracted by its shiny lights to notice our location,” Frenchie said. “Jean. How much longer?”
“Twelve minutes, Benoit.”
“Good. As for your question, Miss Agent, that is the plan in its essence.” Puff, puff, puff. “If it is worth knowing at all, no, his body is not in Elmira. I have no idea where Alexander-the-guest is, only that it will arrive as ordered in Charlton. Minor detail, irrelevant to us, but in case you have a report you’d like your colleague to write...”
He still didn’t look back. He was definitely doing it on purpose.
“I’ll make a note of that.” But Jason wouldn’t. “That ‘moderate trouble’ -”
“Worry about finding your missing piece,” Frenchie said. “Jean and I will handle our case and your lead will handle hers. Twenty minutes is all the time we need. Rendezvous back at the car by then. I will not accept discrepancies in this limit.”
“Got it.” Too close. She was too close to him. The sentence was forming in his mind, a simple ‘don’t touch me’ with a reverent ‘please’ on its ass... He kept in. A joke, a test, whatever it was, he wasn’t trading in her mild interest for undivided rage from accusing her of something he still wasn’t sure what to call. His mouth wanted to open? He’d give it something else to say. “Anything else you need from me, boss?”
Emphasis on ‘boss’. This was a professional pairing, a business relationship, and he – was Benoit fucking laughing?
“I hope you have the directions, Jean. I would like to get out of this car sometime soon.”
Sure. Cover it up! Even the Flunky was surprised by it.
“I know where to go, Benoit,” the man said slowly. “I have never failed you before.”
“Only making sure. One can never check on their subordinates too often.”
OH HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA. Screw all of you in here! Jason jerked his leg irritably and kept quiet. And he’d be keeping quiet until they made it there. If she’d been enjoying the show, it was over now. If she wanted him to break, she was going to have one hell of a time.
“Good to know you’re on board,” Xander said. “Someone’s still probably gonna die, though. I’m not proud of it, I’m just stating the facts.”
As long as it wasn’t Gwen, he didn’t care. Alex had lost his patience for these people a long time ago. But maybe not everyone in there was involved in these projects. They were lucky they had a mind-reader ready to walk the halls, then. If Gwen could figure out who did and didn’t mean to do them harm, it’d stop a few needless deaths. It’d be a miracle, because in Xander’s-but-really-it-was-his head, ‘deaths’ and ‘needless’ never, ever went together.
“Ugh...”
“Look at that. Right on time.” Xander slapped the kid a little. “What’s cookin’, princess? Thought you were gonna nap forever.”
“I don’t... want t’ask... where th’bloody hell you’ve taken me...”
“It’s not that bad. It’s more of a detour than anything.”
The kid, heels dragging lightly on the ground as he dangled from Xander’s fist, pulled himself from his mandatory nap and rolled his head back. From there, at that lovely angle, he got a full and focused view of the Agency building. Then his head popped back up and he asked, “So what’s that?”
It’s the Agency lab. Oh, right. He couldn’t talk. Xander, tell him.
“You don’t recognize it?”
“No.”
Well, the guy said he’d teleported out.
“Can’t even guess?”
“No.”
Xander...
“I don’t trust you,” Xander said. “You’re creepy and you’re old and you’re like some pedophile who got his ultimate wish.”
“Hey – I never asked t’be put in here, mate! If I –”
“The back door would be in the back,” he cut in. “Keep your eyes open for a window, a hole, a crack or anything like that.”
He started walking. Alex wanted to roll his eyes.
‘A crack’? As in a crack in the wall?
“It might mean there’s a door there.”
“I can walk, y’know. Y’don’t have t’drag me everywhere.”
“Be grateful I’m not doing it by your throat,” Xander told him. “That was a fun stunt you pulled with the pancakes. If I have the slightest reason to believe you’re out to try it again, I’ll kill you. Then I’ll laugh about it. Got it?”
The kid shut up and let himself get dragged. That struck Alex as odd. At the less-than-subtle threat, if he’d been in David’s shoes, he would’ve popped Xander’s head open right then and there. He was oddly calm about the situation. Everyone else knew what this place was before they’d made it here, but the information the boy had picked up in-between the passing out should’ve gotten him to piece this together. Instead, he settled on having a half-wary, half-confused expression on his face. Was he in denial?
... I think... we’re better off leaving him here...
“We’re past that.”
Typical.
Whose fault was that again?
No answer. Typical, typical, typical. Now Xander was ignoring him because he was looking for a way in. He had free reign to circle the place. There weren’t any guards outside the building and, like Alex had guessed, no obvious door. There had to be one somewhere, but if they managed to find a crack, they’d’ve hit the height of the Agency’s convenience. He hoped it wasn’t going to be like this the whole way. Something direct and simple - just once - would be greatly appreciated.
“Ah... so... where are we?”
“Shut up.”
Alex’s eyes were darting all over the base of the building.
You know what you’re looking for?
“Vaguely.”
“... ‘M not one t’pry, mate, but if you’n’her are gonna do some little ‘mind talk’, it’d –”
“Annoying sound.” Apparently, it worked on David, too. Xander went back to searching. On the far-most side, beaten by the sun, he pointed at absolutely nothing and said, “So that’s the front door... I don’t see anything on the side yet. Am I missing it?”
What door?
“Sh.”
If you’d explain –
“Sh!”
Fine, do it yourself, like everything else, Alex muttered. Even though it’d go faster if you’d let us help.
“Uh-huh.” He stopped looking at the base to run his eyes up the lab’s corner. “I think we’re going to roof it, kids.”
With what ladder?
“The one on the side.” Xander started walking, clearly confident that they were alone or well-enough prepared to not bother checking for Agents. “It’s faded. That means ‘invisible to the mind’.”
Those words registered loudly in Alex. Like that Agent at the apartment... Invisible without being invisible? Who funded these people?
“Y’gonna let me go t’climb or should I just hop on your back?”
“Over the shoulder. You twitch, I drop you, and I’m speedy like a monkey. You'll be a good drop.” It took seconds to reach the corner he’d been looking at. A fine trail through the lawn on the hill followed after them, then slowly bent back to its normal shape. Xander put his hand out at the air, bringing it down on something that made a hollow, metal noise. A rung. A ladder rung. Holy shit – there really was a ladder! The instant one of his senses had clued into it, everything else followed. It was a dark brown ladder stretching up to the roof and they... were actually going to climb it. Literally. “Hope you don’t hate heights.”
I do.
Once more, no answer. Xander smirked though.
WHERE THE FUCK WAS THAT HAND GOING?!
Scraping at his leg? Okay! Sure. He wasn’t going to say anything because the suit was armoured, and even if it felt like it way through the material, she wasn’t actually going to rip it apart. Hand on his leg? Alright! Alright, fine! She was sitting up, she needed something to put her weight on and he was happy he was being useful – just... ecstatic. Really. But this? This?
This was sexual harassment.
That’s what it was! He wasn’t aiming for pathetic or... or victimized but – this was...
Whatever, just ignore it and it’ll go away. Ignore it and it’ll go away. She was digging her fingers into his thigh – it was barely his thigh anymore, but ‘at least’ she’d stopped before things got ‘crazy’ – and doing exactly the opposite of what he wanted. Jason couldn’t take this. He couldn’t breathe. If he’d had his goggles on, his eyes would’ve been masked and he could’ve squinted and squirmed behind them as much as he’d wanted. There was nothing shielding him from her now, other than a very weak and desperate hope that she’d get bored of him and let him... maybe... Seriously – no one else was seeing this? He knew the Flunky didn’t like him, but Frenchie should’ve had something to say. It was as if they were all in on this. Yeah. Hey – that was probably it. Big ol’ joke on Jason – ‘run your hand up his crotch and see if you can him dance’. That wasn’t happening.
Fine, a little dancing, but nothing more after that.
He tensed. He twitched his leg as quietly as he could, ready to pass it off as getting restless in this car – and wildly uncomfortable, but she’d love that – on the off-chance anyone asked. They wouldn't. Benoit hadn’t needed to turn around when his lead sat up to talk to him and he was content to stay sitting forward as he thought over his answer. With Flunky driving and his eyes on the road, her hand could’ve been made of fireworks and making whistling sounds and they would’ve been too preoccupied to look.
Settle down. Breathe. She was screwing with him because he’d messed up. This was her way of getting back at him. He’d live with it. To prove it to her and to himself, he spent a second sucking in some air before diving in to reply.
“If she reset the system –” It hurt to say. “– then... no. Even if she’s been using it day and night since she got her hands on them, there’s no effects she would’ve developed. The...” Jason fought for a better word than the ones his mind was offering up. It’d be nice if he could have his leg back, by the way. “The obsession only begins after months and months of customization. It takes a year for it to be part of you. Until then, it’s fancy technology.”
And then after that, people would up like he did.
‘Natural skill’. It pissed him off. He’d worked tirelessly memorizing every facet of this suit but she took to it a like a dog in heat? Don’t think about heat, don’t think about heat – anyway. She didn’t know everything. Maybe enough to ruin his day, but when it came down to it, he had nothing to worry about. He’d get them back, especially if he had three others helping. It was just a matter of when and how many mental clamps he’d have put on his head. Before, in his target’s room, he’d idly browsed through her listed powers, but when his lead took the time to emphasize how dangerous she’d be if she reached her full strength, it resounded more heavily than basic text.
“Then let us hope she is too distracted by its shiny lights to notice our location,” Frenchie said. “Jean. How much longer?”
“Twelve minutes, Benoit.”
“Good. As for your question, Miss Agent, that is the plan in its essence.” Puff, puff, puff. “If it is worth knowing at all, no, his body is not in Elmira. I have no idea where Alexander-the-guest is, only that it will arrive as ordered in Charlton. Minor detail, irrelevant to us, but in case you have a report you’d like your colleague to write...”
He still didn’t look back. He was definitely doing it on purpose.
“I’ll make a note of that.” But Jason wouldn’t. “That ‘moderate trouble’ -”
“Worry about finding your missing piece,” Frenchie said. “Jean and I will handle our case and your lead will handle hers. Twenty minutes is all the time we need. Rendezvous back at the car by then. I will not accept discrepancies in this limit.”
“Got it.” Too close. She was too close to him. The sentence was forming in his mind, a simple ‘don’t touch me’ with a reverent ‘please’ on its ass... He kept in. A joke, a test, whatever it was, he wasn’t trading in her mild interest for undivided rage from accusing her of something he still wasn’t sure what to call. His mouth wanted to open? He’d give it something else to say. “Anything else you need from me, boss?”
Emphasis on ‘boss’. This was a professional pairing, a business relationship, and he – was Benoit fucking laughing?
“I hope you have the directions, Jean. I would like to get out of this car sometime soon.”
Sure. Cover it up! Even the Flunky was surprised by it.
“I know where to go, Benoit,” the man said slowly. “I have never failed you before.”
“Only making sure. One can never check on their subordinates too often.”
OH HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA. Screw all of you in here! Jason jerked his leg irritably and kept quiet. And he’d be keeping quiet until they made it there. If she’d been enjoying the show, it was over now. If she wanted him to break, she was going to have one hell of a time.
* * *
“Good to know you’re on board,” Xander said. “Someone’s still probably gonna die, though. I’m not proud of it, I’m just stating the facts.”
As long as it wasn’t Gwen, he didn’t care. Alex had lost his patience for these people a long time ago. But maybe not everyone in there was involved in these projects. They were lucky they had a mind-reader ready to walk the halls, then. If Gwen could figure out who did and didn’t mean to do them harm, it’d stop a few needless deaths. It’d be a miracle, because in Xander’s-but-really-it-was-his head, ‘deaths’ and ‘needless’ never, ever went together.
“Ugh...”
“Look at that. Right on time.” Xander slapped the kid a little. “What’s cookin’, princess? Thought you were gonna nap forever.”
“I don’t... want t’ask... where th’bloody hell you’ve taken me...”
“It’s not that bad. It’s more of a detour than anything.”
The kid, heels dragging lightly on the ground as he dangled from Xander’s fist, pulled himself from his mandatory nap and rolled his head back. From there, at that lovely angle, he got a full and focused view of the Agency building. Then his head popped back up and he asked, “So what’s that?”
It’s the Agency lab. Oh, right. He couldn’t talk. Xander, tell him.
“You don’t recognize it?”
“No.”
Well, the guy said he’d teleported out.
“Can’t even guess?”
“No.”
Xander...
“I don’t trust you,” Xander said. “You’re creepy and you’re old and you’re like some pedophile who got his ultimate wish.”
“Hey – I never asked t’be put in here, mate! If I –”
“The back door would be in the back,” he cut in. “Keep your eyes open for a window, a hole, a crack or anything like that.”
He started walking. Alex wanted to roll his eyes.
‘A crack’? As in a crack in the wall?
“It might mean there’s a door there.”
“I can walk, y’know. Y’don’t have t’drag me everywhere.”
“Be grateful I’m not doing it by your throat,” Xander told him. “That was a fun stunt you pulled with the pancakes. If I have the slightest reason to believe you’re out to try it again, I’ll kill you. Then I’ll laugh about it. Got it?”
The kid shut up and let himself get dragged. That struck Alex as odd. At the less-than-subtle threat, if he’d been in David’s shoes, he would’ve popped Xander’s head open right then and there. He was oddly calm about the situation. Everyone else knew what this place was before they’d made it here, but the information the boy had picked up in-between the passing out should’ve gotten him to piece this together. Instead, he settled on having a half-wary, half-confused expression on his face. Was he in denial?
... I think... we’re better off leaving him here...
“We’re past that.”
Typical.
Whose fault was that again?
No answer. Typical, typical, typical. Now Xander was ignoring him because he was looking for a way in. He had free reign to circle the place. There weren’t any guards outside the building and, like Alex had guessed, no obvious door. There had to be one somewhere, but if they managed to find a crack, they’d’ve hit the height of the Agency’s convenience. He hoped it wasn’t going to be like this the whole way. Something direct and simple - just once - would be greatly appreciated.
“Ah... so... where are we?”
“Shut up.”
Alex’s eyes were darting all over the base of the building.
You know what you’re looking for?
“Vaguely.”
“... ‘M not one t’pry, mate, but if you’n’her are gonna do some little ‘mind talk’, it’d –”
“Annoying sound.” Apparently, it worked on David, too. Xander went back to searching. On the far-most side, beaten by the sun, he pointed at absolutely nothing and said, “So that’s the front door... I don’t see anything on the side yet. Am I missing it?”
What door?
“Sh.”
If you’d explain –
“Sh!”
Fine, do it yourself, like everything else, Alex muttered. Even though it’d go faster if you’d let us help.
“Uh-huh.” He stopped looking at the base to run his eyes up the lab’s corner. “I think we’re going to roof it, kids.”
With what ladder?
“The one on the side.” Xander started walking, clearly confident that they were alone or well-enough prepared to not bother checking for Agents. “It’s faded. That means ‘invisible to the mind’.”
Those words registered loudly in Alex. Like that Agent at the apartment... Invisible without being invisible? Who funded these people?
“Y’gonna let me go t’climb or should I just hop on your back?”
“Over the shoulder. You twitch, I drop you, and I’m speedy like a monkey. You'll be a good drop.” It took seconds to reach the corner he’d been looking at. A fine trail through the lawn on the hill followed after them, then slowly bent back to its normal shape. Xander put his hand out at the air, bringing it down on something that made a hollow, metal noise. A rung. A ladder rung. Holy shit – there really was a ladder! The instant one of his senses had clued into it, everything else followed. It was a dark brown ladder stretching up to the roof and they... were actually going to climb it. Literally. “Hope you don’t hate heights.”
I do.
Once more, no answer. Xander smirked though.
Last edited by Tartra on Wed Jan 05, 2011 4:32 pm; edited 1 time in total
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Sat Aug 21, 2010 1:33 am
Her eyes now latched onto his face looked him over with a piercing gaze watching every shifting facial muscle and interpreting it accordingly - and she was wallowing in the reactions she was producing in him. Would he be a big cry baby and try to tell on her? Maybe he thought if he made a big enough fuss he might slip it by her before her clawed hand attacked his balls and choked off anything that might come from his throat. Again, the suit would protect him from some of that but not all. She sat with just a bit of tension in the limb that occupied his lap, like a spider poised on his mid-thigh, her green eyes fixated on his lips waiting for him to try to rush a protest out.
But when his voice came, it carried an answer to her question and she sat for a moment or two blinking at him before she registered what he said. Oh my... He's not going to say anything, is he? It was hard to say exactly what she was feeling. After feeling all that buildup coursing through the muscles in his leg, his buttocks practically squirming in his seat in a futile attempt to ignore her offending hand, she had most definitely expected some sort of explosion. She'd not only expected it, but had been absolutely certain that the first thing he'd do when given the opportunity to speak was cry 'Rape!' But this...what was this exactly? Maybe he was still planning on doing so. Maybe he was still going to give in.
Turning back to the front she kept her attention on Benoit as he spoke and did not return her gaze to the backseat, her hand continuing to dominate his lap, waiting for the words of sweet protest, desiring on a deeper level to harm him further. How delicious would that be? When they left the car next it would not be the suit making him limp. And he would have learned a very valuable lesson, she was more than eager to teach. Stephanie no longer remembered how this game had started, but it no longer mattered; she was playing it and she would win. The stakes were set just so, he would lose either way.
There was another part in the conversation when she felt him breathing heavier and she was almost certain this was going to be it. Are you going to talk back to me, little man? And he did! Well, in the vaguest sense, anyway. The reaction to his use of the title to describe their occupational relationship was hidden within deeper layers inside her where she laughed uproariously at the little emphasis he put on the word. Ohhh, yes, sweety, I know you're upset, but you gotta give me more, she thought with an inner chuckle. When Benoit spoke, his voice held a bit of amusement as well and she didn't readily detect what it was about but was already ignoring him, waiting for Jason to just spit it out. Perched as she was between the seats, she could just spy his face in the rearview mirror. Annoyance danced across his features briefly but then his lips were set in a firm unmoving line and he turned away from the people in the front seat to look out the window. He... He really wasn't going to speak up, was he?
His refusing to say anything when it was clear his personal space was being violated so intrusively, meant that he recognized the consequences and potential for swift punishment. He was bending to her authority. But at the same time, on another level, there was a power struggle. He was ignoring her, not giving her behavior the attention it deserved. He should reprimand her! He should be outraged! He had allies in this car - sort of - who would not think twice about putting in a report if he issued such a scandalous complaint. The way she was touching him and especially where wasn't even the half of it - if he felt "assaulted" she could be torn apart in the Agency. He refused to be her victim...but by doing that, he was further prolonging his victimization. It was...both submissive and dominant. And she was enjoying it a lot more than she should.
When the realization finally hit her that she was going to get away with fondling, groping and pinching his leg as much as she pleased, she sat for several more moments silently turning it over. Her hand was no longer crouched and tense on his upper thigh, but had relaxed as she smoothed it forward towards his knee, feeling the tough fabric of his suit under the fullness of her palm and fingertips. Then it was traveling back again, inching slowly, her fingers splaying out to touch as much of him as possible without moving her hand too much. She let it move even further back until her wrist and forearm bumped into his stomach and stopped, her fingers relaxing and splaying even more in the area where his leg met the rest of his hips. Pinky and ring finger dangled near his groin, resting there lightly, no pressure, no stroking, just achingly close...
"Alright, I'm glad I've got all that cleared up," she said to Benoit with a nod, drawing circles in Jason's inner thigh with her fingers. "I have to admit it was a little less linear in my head as you were putting the pieces together over the past hour or so." Finally, she was moving to sit back in her seat, her hand patting Jason's leg in a neutral manner - except for everything she'd just done of course, but if Jean or Benoit happened to glance back, it would look like a mere attention getting gesture. Which it was.
Turning to look at him, her hands placed smoothly back in her own personal space, she said, "Writing up a report about this sounds like a good idea as something for you to take care of. It'll all be over soon, so it should have a neat and tidy beginning and end. That'll be all...for now." She waited for him to nod in assent before inwardly smiling. Good boy, she thought pleasantly, turning away from him more than satisfied with this new dynamic. Too bad they wouldn't have too much longer to play this fun little game. She would have enjoyed pushing him to his ultimate limits.
The building loomed large and foreboding, filling her vision of the horizon as they got closer and a shiver of fear coursed through her. Unlike Xander and even Alex who dealt with this kind of thing all the time, she was not the Secret Agent type. As a young girl she'd tried to sneak into a movie theater with some friends and had been the one to get them all caught. That was the extent of her "covert" experience. Hopefully her powers would give her a greater edge this time around - so far, they seemed to help her find pain and trouble - they would need to. She couldn't afford to get her friends caught.
Gwen's attention was drawn away from the building as she felt David stir and looked over at him just as he murmured sleepily, his eyes blinking groggily as Xander greeted him in a mockingly friendly manner. Great, him again. How exactly were they going to do this with Xander lugging him around as extra baggage? They couldn't exactly trust him. Especially since he was barely awake and already he was starting to bend the truth. Alright, so he didn't exactly recognize this exact building, but he had already put a few of the pieces together that this was an Agency building before he started to play stupid. Luckily, Xander did not need to be psychic to pick up on it and she smiled nervously when he reprimanded him and called the guy a pedophile. Only he had the ability to, amidst everything they were facing, make her smile like that.
As soon as he said what they were looking for, Gwen's eyes went back to the building and scoured it's flawless surface for anything that might give. And truly, it was flawless to her eyes - there was nothing to indicated a hidden door of any kind. She was distracted as she felt David start to rouse even more, eager to put his feet on the ground and high-tail it out of there, before finally asking to be given the ability to walk on his own two feet. An image of her and Xander's heads exploding in a juicy mess appeared in his mind before Xander turned to him to threaten him in a cold manner. She didn't need to take her eyes off of the building to feel the confusion rippling off of the teenager and a bit of fear as well.
He kind of knew they were at an Agency building but he didn't understand why they were here. Usually people like them made an effort to break out of these places rather than break back in. At first, he totally didn't make the connection to the information he'd given them earlier about the cure being to return the host back to it's original body - maybe it was more of a theory than an actual fact? He seemed so certain though... Searching his memories, there really was no proof of what he'd said being the solution- he hadn't overheard it from someone or read it in a file, it was pure conjecture - but it was okay because his reasoning was sound. This would work. And once he realized this as a possibility for being here, he placated himself with waiting to see if this would all work out. Afterall, he was running out of time as well. If they could find his body too...
A sigh of frustration left her throat as she looked over the building again and again finding nothing staring her back in the face. Whatever he said was here was not here, or at least not visually found. When he pointed, her eyes zoomed to look for it but on her own she could not see it. It wasn't until she probed Xander's mind - like reaching into the cloud cover and randomly pulling stuff out - did she see what he was talking about. Releasing the thought, she tried to see it with her own eyes and it took her a while before she could make it out. Slowly, she looked over at Xander, blinking her blue eyes in amazement just as Alex had a very similar thought; Again, she found herself wondering who the Agency even was. Maybe Tommy had been right. Maybe the Agency was a government...er....agency like the FBI.
She was on his heels as he walked over to the corner, her eyes adjusting to the ladder that hadn't been there a moment before as Xander reached out to grab it, making it seemingly appear spontaneously. Glancing around, they were alone on the hilltop and no one had been alerted to their presence on the inside yet. This felt wrong. She put a hand on his arm to stay him as her blue eyes made their way from the surrounding area back to his face.
Alex, she pulsed internally, finding that she preferred to confide her concerns to him rather than voice them aloud where David could hear. This doesn't seem right... I mean, isn't this place guarded? Don't they have alarms and...junk? We approached within full view of anybody inside in a frigging taxi for crying out loud and I can hear it inside - nobody has blinked an eye and there are no bells going off either. Can any-old-body just walk up here and poke the walls until they find an entrance? Or do they only worry about turning folks away once they're inside? It just feels...really easy, doesn't it?
She didn't mean to worry him, but if they brought her along to do her psychic thing, then she felt obligated to let them know about anything she sensed. After all the opposition we've faced elsewhere this seems sloppy...
She wasn't trying to cause any problems for them but she could smell a trap and she knew Xander had to have felt it too. With a shrug she turned away from the ladder and said, "I'm not climbing up the side of a building, Secret Agent Man. Not when there are easier entrances around. Everybody in this building got in here in one way or another and there has to be an easily accessible emergency exit that they all know about." Although with what the Agency had displayed so far in regards to human life, she would not be surprised if there was a fire or something and they left no way for their employees to escape burning death.
Stepping off to the side for a moment, she put the goggles onto her face and began to look over the building that had been impenetrable a moment before. Of course, not only did the ladder and the front doors appear as clear as day but information popped up on her screen to indicate another door along the other side of the building. Motioning with her hand, she didn't wait for him to follow her along the other side, keeping an ear out to make sure any alarms didn't go off. So far, so good.
Reaching the hidden doorway that she could see as if it were any other normal door, she eagerly stepped in front of the keypad beside it, pressing her lips together nervously. Probing the minds of a few people who'd used the back entrance, she realized they all had personal codes rather than a general one that worked for this entrance. But that also meant she couldn't steal one from anyone who was currently inside. Bringing up the list of codes she'd stolen from Jason, she worried her lip and cracked the fingers of her right hand in an agitated manner. A lot of these weren't even labeled...
Turning to Xander, looking him over in orange light she asked, "How many tries do I get before something bad happens?" At the look both Xander and David gave her, she broke an uneasy smile and waved her hand at him anxiously. "Nevermind!Nevermind! I know what I'm doing!"
Turning back to the keypad, she bored over the list of codes trying to figure out which one she could use for this door, if any. About half of them were labeled and only half of the labeled ones made identifiable sense, the titles next to them practically in code themselves. There was one titled "HQ" but she was neither certain that it was for a specific place, would work for a lab, etc. or if it was even a door pass at all. Not even wanting to try one of the untitled ones - she just KNEW she only got one try at this - she punched in the numeral and letter code, cringing as she waited to hear the sirens go off. Instead the keypad chirped and the lock clicked and she was bouncing excitedly next to Xander as it opened into a dark hallway with a sliding whoosh.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" her arms flew around him as she pushed the goggles up on her face and she kissed his cheek happily, before letting him go and proceeding forth as if nothing had happened.
But when his voice came, it carried an answer to her question and she sat for a moment or two blinking at him before she registered what he said. Oh my... He's not going to say anything, is he? It was hard to say exactly what she was feeling. After feeling all that buildup coursing through the muscles in his leg, his buttocks practically squirming in his seat in a futile attempt to ignore her offending hand, she had most definitely expected some sort of explosion. She'd not only expected it, but had been absolutely certain that the first thing he'd do when given the opportunity to speak was cry 'Rape!' But this...what was this exactly? Maybe he was still planning on doing so. Maybe he was still going to give in.
Turning back to the front she kept her attention on Benoit as he spoke and did not return her gaze to the backseat, her hand continuing to dominate his lap, waiting for the words of sweet protest, desiring on a deeper level to harm him further. How delicious would that be? When they left the car next it would not be the suit making him limp. And he would have learned a very valuable lesson, she was more than eager to teach. Stephanie no longer remembered how this game had started, but it no longer mattered; she was playing it and she would win. The stakes were set just so, he would lose either way.
There was another part in the conversation when she felt him breathing heavier and she was almost certain this was going to be it. Are you going to talk back to me, little man? And he did! Well, in the vaguest sense, anyway. The reaction to his use of the title to describe their occupational relationship was hidden within deeper layers inside her where she laughed uproariously at the little emphasis he put on the word. Ohhh, yes, sweety, I know you're upset, but you gotta give me more, she thought with an inner chuckle. When Benoit spoke, his voice held a bit of amusement as well and she didn't readily detect what it was about but was already ignoring him, waiting for Jason to just spit it out. Perched as she was between the seats, she could just spy his face in the rearview mirror. Annoyance danced across his features briefly but then his lips were set in a firm unmoving line and he turned away from the people in the front seat to look out the window. He... He really wasn't going to speak up, was he?
His refusing to say anything when it was clear his personal space was being violated so intrusively, meant that he recognized the consequences and potential for swift punishment. He was bending to her authority. But at the same time, on another level, there was a power struggle. He was ignoring her, not giving her behavior the attention it deserved. He should reprimand her! He should be outraged! He had allies in this car - sort of - who would not think twice about putting in a report if he issued such a scandalous complaint. The way she was touching him and especially where wasn't even the half of it - if he felt "assaulted" she could be torn apart in the Agency. He refused to be her victim...but by doing that, he was further prolonging his victimization. It was...both submissive and dominant. And she was enjoying it a lot more than she should.
When the realization finally hit her that she was going to get away with fondling, groping and pinching his leg as much as she pleased, she sat for several more moments silently turning it over. Her hand was no longer crouched and tense on his upper thigh, but had relaxed as she smoothed it forward towards his knee, feeling the tough fabric of his suit under the fullness of her palm and fingertips. Then it was traveling back again, inching slowly, her fingers splaying out to touch as much of him as possible without moving her hand too much. She let it move even further back until her wrist and forearm bumped into his stomach and stopped, her fingers relaxing and splaying even more in the area where his leg met the rest of his hips. Pinky and ring finger dangled near his groin, resting there lightly, no pressure, no stroking, just achingly close...
"Alright, I'm glad I've got all that cleared up," she said to Benoit with a nod, drawing circles in Jason's inner thigh with her fingers. "I have to admit it was a little less linear in my head as you were putting the pieces together over the past hour or so." Finally, she was moving to sit back in her seat, her hand patting Jason's leg in a neutral manner - except for everything she'd just done of course, but if Jean or Benoit happened to glance back, it would look like a mere attention getting gesture. Which it was.
Turning to look at him, her hands placed smoothly back in her own personal space, she said, "Writing up a report about this sounds like a good idea as something for you to take care of. It'll all be over soon, so it should have a neat and tidy beginning and end. That'll be all...for now." She waited for him to nod in assent before inwardly smiling. Good boy, she thought pleasantly, turning away from him more than satisfied with this new dynamic. Too bad they wouldn't have too much longer to play this fun little game. She would have enjoyed pushing him to his ultimate limits.
****
Even with the adrenaline pumping through her and worry creasing her brow, Gwen cracked a smile when she sensed that Xander was pleased to have her along. Through the murky cloud of his consciousness, it was like a sliver of sunshine making it through and it filled her with another burst of confidence. She would try not to disappoint him.The building loomed large and foreboding, filling her vision of the horizon as they got closer and a shiver of fear coursed through her. Unlike Xander and even Alex who dealt with this kind of thing all the time, she was not the Secret Agent type. As a young girl she'd tried to sneak into a movie theater with some friends and had been the one to get them all caught. That was the extent of her "covert" experience. Hopefully her powers would give her a greater edge this time around - so far, they seemed to help her find pain and trouble - they would need to. She couldn't afford to get her friends caught.
Gwen's attention was drawn away from the building as she felt David stir and looked over at him just as he murmured sleepily, his eyes blinking groggily as Xander greeted him in a mockingly friendly manner. Great, him again. How exactly were they going to do this with Xander lugging him around as extra baggage? They couldn't exactly trust him. Especially since he was barely awake and already he was starting to bend the truth. Alright, so he didn't exactly recognize this exact building, but he had already put a few of the pieces together that this was an Agency building before he started to play stupid. Luckily, Xander did not need to be psychic to pick up on it and she smiled nervously when he reprimanded him and called the guy a pedophile. Only he had the ability to, amidst everything they were facing, make her smile like that.
As soon as he said what they were looking for, Gwen's eyes went back to the building and scoured it's flawless surface for anything that might give. And truly, it was flawless to her eyes - there was nothing to indicated a hidden door of any kind. She was distracted as she felt David start to rouse even more, eager to put his feet on the ground and high-tail it out of there, before finally asking to be given the ability to walk on his own two feet. An image of her and Xander's heads exploding in a juicy mess appeared in his mind before Xander turned to him to threaten him in a cold manner. She didn't need to take her eyes off of the building to feel the confusion rippling off of the teenager and a bit of fear as well.
He kind of knew they were at an Agency building but he didn't understand why they were here. Usually people like them made an effort to break out of these places rather than break back in. At first, he totally didn't make the connection to the information he'd given them earlier about the cure being to return the host back to it's original body - maybe it was more of a theory than an actual fact? He seemed so certain though... Searching his memories, there really was no proof of what he'd said being the solution- he hadn't overheard it from someone or read it in a file, it was pure conjecture - but it was okay because his reasoning was sound. This would work. And once he realized this as a possibility for being here, he placated himself with waiting to see if this would all work out. Afterall, he was running out of time as well. If they could find his body too...
A sigh of frustration left her throat as she looked over the building again and again finding nothing staring her back in the face. Whatever he said was here was not here, or at least not visually found. When he pointed, her eyes zoomed to look for it but on her own she could not see it. It wasn't until she probed Xander's mind - like reaching into the cloud cover and randomly pulling stuff out - did she see what he was talking about. Releasing the thought, she tried to see it with her own eyes and it took her a while before she could make it out. Slowly, she looked over at Xander, blinking her blue eyes in amazement just as Alex had a very similar thought; Again, she found herself wondering who the Agency even was. Maybe Tommy had been right. Maybe the Agency was a government...er....agency like the FBI.
She was on his heels as he walked over to the corner, her eyes adjusting to the ladder that hadn't been there a moment before as Xander reached out to grab it, making it seemingly appear spontaneously. Glancing around, they were alone on the hilltop and no one had been alerted to their presence on the inside yet. This felt wrong. She put a hand on his arm to stay him as her blue eyes made their way from the surrounding area back to his face.
Alex, she pulsed internally, finding that she preferred to confide her concerns to him rather than voice them aloud where David could hear. This doesn't seem right... I mean, isn't this place guarded? Don't they have alarms and...junk? We approached within full view of anybody inside in a frigging taxi for crying out loud and I can hear it inside - nobody has blinked an eye and there are no bells going off either. Can any-old-body just walk up here and poke the walls until they find an entrance? Or do they only worry about turning folks away once they're inside? It just feels...really easy, doesn't it?
She didn't mean to worry him, but if they brought her along to do her psychic thing, then she felt obligated to let them know about anything she sensed. After all the opposition we've faced elsewhere this seems sloppy...
She wasn't trying to cause any problems for them but she could smell a trap and she knew Xander had to have felt it too. With a shrug she turned away from the ladder and said, "I'm not climbing up the side of a building, Secret Agent Man. Not when there are easier entrances around. Everybody in this building got in here in one way or another and there has to be an easily accessible emergency exit that they all know about." Although with what the Agency had displayed so far in regards to human life, she would not be surprised if there was a fire or something and they left no way for their employees to escape burning death.
Stepping off to the side for a moment, she put the goggles onto her face and began to look over the building that had been impenetrable a moment before. Of course, not only did the ladder and the front doors appear as clear as day but information popped up on her screen to indicate another door along the other side of the building. Motioning with her hand, she didn't wait for him to follow her along the other side, keeping an ear out to make sure any alarms didn't go off. So far, so good.
Reaching the hidden doorway that she could see as if it were any other normal door, she eagerly stepped in front of the keypad beside it, pressing her lips together nervously. Probing the minds of a few people who'd used the back entrance, she realized they all had personal codes rather than a general one that worked for this entrance. But that also meant she couldn't steal one from anyone who was currently inside. Bringing up the list of codes she'd stolen from Jason, she worried her lip and cracked the fingers of her right hand in an agitated manner. A lot of these weren't even labeled...
Turning to Xander, looking him over in orange light she asked, "How many tries do I get before something bad happens?" At the look both Xander and David gave her, she broke an uneasy smile and waved her hand at him anxiously. "Nevermind!Nevermind! I know what I'm doing!"
Turning back to the keypad, she bored over the list of codes trying to figure out which one she could use for this door, if any. About half of them were labeled and only half of the labeled ones made identifiable sense, the titles next to them practically in code themselves. There was one titled "HQ" but she was neither certain that it was for a specific place, would work for a lab, etc. or if it was even a door pass at all. Not even wanting to try one of the untitled ones - she just KNEW she only got one try at this - she punched in the numeral and letter code, cringing as she waited to hear the sirens go off. Instead the keypad chirped and the lock clicked and she was bouncing excitedly next to Xander as it opened into a dark hallway with a sliding whoosh.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" her arms flew around him as she pushed the goggles up on her face and she kissed his cheek happily, before letting him go and proceeding forth as if nothing had happened.
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Sun Aug 22, 2010 2:11 am
Look at that, Alex said. A door. One right in front of us, providing a route everyone can get through.
“It’s not like you saw it,” Xander grunted, taking his hand off the ladder. He threw David over his shoulder anyway - to which the kid responded with an uncomfortable ‘oof’ - probably because his dragging arm was getting tired or it’d make too much noise if they let him scrap against the ground. “Alright, fine. Let’s go in the easy way. But the roof would’ve been better.”
Awwwwwww.
The hallway was empty and horribly under lit. If it was a back way, Alex guessed they’d shut off the lights because no one needed them. Still, it didn’t mean they couldn’t have something flickering on the ceiling. Once they stepped in and cleared the door behind them, it snapped shut and left them in total darkness. The pain of his sight being switched off so quickly almost hurt, a lot like that damn headache he really, really, really could’ve used aspirin or morphine for, and it wasn’t until he heard a tiny click and the sound a live current running overhead that he realized Xander had found a switch.
“Let there be light,” the guy muttered, his hand on the tiny flip.
The place had no other floors, it seemed. The walls went up until they reached the top of the building, at least four stories away. They held up a massive ceiling tied to hundreds of giant hanging lamps, wide as elephants and turning on row by row with a heavy clank. The electricity shrieked as it ran through the wires, the sharp hum tearing at his ears as everything sparked to life. The lights themselves were as creepy and sterile as everything else; they were too white, beyond the point where they could’ve actually been called white and were pushing some weird almost-blue that washed out the colour of everything. Gwen’s red shirt was practically grey. His grey shirt was... more grey. Everything else was just pale.
This is definitely an Agency building, he said. But where are all the Agents?
“They’re here.”
He seemed so sure of it. Were they ‘faded’, too? No, they couldn’t be. Xander had a way of standing when he was eyeing a target and he wasn’t doing it now. So they were alone in here.
Sloppy was exactly the word they needed to describe this. A free waltz to the back door? A simple code to get in? No guards, no patrols, no sirens, no alarms, no security cameras – nothing. Gwen was right about this being too easy, but he was almost convinced the silence was normal. The Agents had an air about them screaming they were too good to get attacked but they welcomed anyone who wanted to try. The Frenchman had it. His enormous friend did, too. Xander oozed it night and day, so maybe they really didn’t see a point in setting up a defence. Easy getting in, he realized, but climbing out of the pit of fire was going to be a different story. Not that he’d call this a fire. If anything, this was an ice box.
You think they’re watching us?
“Nah. They won’t care until we get in.”
‘Get in’?
We aren’t inside?
“This is like their lobby.”
Nice to see they were big on hospitality around here. ‘Hospital’, anyway.
What they thought was a hallway when the lights were off had in fact been a piling of storage crates on either side of them. The wood looked dark in here, too obscured for him to pick out what tree it came from – as if he could’ve done it when he had a normal setting – and stacked until it reached halfway up the wall. Empty? More than one row? He had no idea. The only thing he could make out was that the corridor the crates formed was roughly three car-lengths long. After them, as Xander, Gwen and David walked/were dragged out of that mini-fortress, they found the rest of the room wide, barren and isolated. There was nothing in here even though it stretched farther than he could see. The lights in back end of the building hadn’t turned on, so outside their cold glow, the rest of the place was in shadows. Empty shadows, he noted. For all the attention they were getting, they might as well have been ghosts.
Feeling ‘homey’ yet?
“Good question.” Xander dropped the kid on the ground. Politely, of course, but David still needed a minute to shake the fall off. “So. Any of this starting to look familiar?”
“No,” David answered. “I ‘aven’t seen any of this before. I don’t know where we are.”
The kid’s mouth twitched like a crazy man. Xander approved of this reaction. He got closer and walked up to him, kneeling in front of David and giving him an interested look.
“I’d say one of you does,” Xander said. “The banshee’s up?”
“Don’t make me get her out.” Less of a threat, more of a desperate plea. “She’s insane. I only let ‘er roam around when there’s nobody near – she’s brutal.”
If this was the lobby, where the hell was the rest of the lab? Xander must’ve been thinking the same thing, because he smiled at David’s remark and continued waiting expectantly. At that, the kid sighed gravely, closed his eyes and said nothing. His face twitched again, harder, but for the next several minutes, long enough for Xander to get bored and stand back up, he was silent.
“Power imbalance,” the guy said, shrewdly. “I guess it’s harder to switch over if you don’t have someone in charge.”
Good to know this could’ve been worse.
“But it’s all going to get better very, very soon.” If he’d been just a little bit less refined, he would’ve clapped his hands in excitement. Alex felt it catching a bit. “Banshee! Get out here! We need a way in.”
If you know this is the lobby, shouldn’t you know where the next door is?
“It changes from place to place. Banshee, wake the hell up!”
The kid’s eyes popped open, growing abnormally wide in shock before slamming down into a pointed squint. There was no teeth baring or lunging for somebody’s throat this time. Instead, the thing was satisfied with growling a heated, “You brought me back.”
Alex didn’t like the look in his/her eye.
“Yes we did,” Xander said, “but only for a minute.”
“You brought me back.”
Maybe we should step away a little...
“You brought me back!”
Xander?
He wanted to at least turn his head to look at Gwen. He’d’ve felt better knowing she was there but he completely understood if she wanted to turn around and bolt for the door. Alex guessed it’d be open still. As welcoming as the Agency would be of an opponent, they were equally willing to give them one last chance to think about what the fuck they were walking into.
“You brought me back,” the banshee said, getting louder and beginning to echo in the open room. “You brought me back! You brought me back, you brought me back, you brought me back.”
Xander responded to this by putting his hand over the banshee’s face. Surprisingly, not only did it work to shut the kid up, but Alex’s fingers weren’t immediately bitten off.
“I bet you want out of that body, too,” he said. “How about you show us where the door is and we’ll shop around for something... nice.”
“Body. My body.”
It didn’t take a psychic to know ‘body’ was the new ‘pancakes’.
“That’s right,” Xander said, like he was talking to a child. “A nice, new body – all yours. So where’s it?”
“My body. My body, my body...”
The kid’s eyes were wild and, suddenly, he started scratching at the ground in front of him, digging at it like it was supposed to be made of sand. He/she was going to tear his nails doing that, but Xander didn’t stop her. Instead he mused, “Looks like it’s in the floor.”
Like a storm cellar?
“Probably.” He looked at Gwen. “You worked some magic getting us in this far. Think you can open door number two?”
The second her hand got out of his lap, Jason crushed his legs together and slumped against the window as politely as he could. Alright. He’d made it. It was over now, so he was free to just... forget that ever happened and focus on the mission. Completely – he was completely focused on the job. She wanted him to write a report. He’d heard that because he’d been paying attention to what was coming out of her mouth and not what... hell – she probably did that to everybody! If Benoit had a good chuckle, then this wasn’t something to panic over. There was nothing to do but brush it off and it wasn’t as if it was his first time being in that situation before, only it normally happened somewhere he was drunk, off company time and not surrounded by superior Agents who could break his neck as fast as he could break someone else’s.
Report. Reporting. She wanted a report on this. Not on this – on the case. On their actions surrounding the case, she – the Agency – wanted a report written up and... slowly, he was filled with a new kind of dread. How much did she want him to include? Just the basics? ‘Found target, found Alexander, lost them both after they teamed up, caught them again in Elmira/Charlton’. It was short and to the point, but it’d mean leaving out a lot of details other people would call crucial. How his case had merged with another, for example. As he kept trying to tell everyone, this wasn’t really or entirely his fault. If it was his word over Gary’s, Jason would win in a heartbeat, but if he left it out altogether and his lead thought he was trying to get out of it, or if he wrote it down and she insisted he should’ve been fast enough to get away from the case, she could ruin everything he’d worked so hard to achieve. A gold record wasn’t a requirement or even something this business thought of as possible, but he’d come closer to it than anyone he knew and he wasn’t going to let her screw it up for him. More importantly, he wasn’t going to piss her off and give her a reason to.
That ‘for now’, as ominous as it was, had to be a bluff. She would never actually do this again. Where her hand had been, how close her nails had gotten... but just the way she patted the inside of his thigh – how bad was it if he thought that was the easiest part to deal with – gave off a ‘good Jason, you did very well’ vibe. Unless he fucked it up again, and he wouldn’t, she’d stay happy and off of him and then he wouldn’t have to worry about breaking rank to snap at her, which he’d nearly done three times. She must’ve noticed his discipline. He would’ve asked for a cookie, but he felt he could manage without anything else from her.
His leg was still warm. He scratched at it. Real subtle, genius.
The Flunky drove until the Elmira lab grew on the horizon. Jason was relieved to see it. Finally, a bit of normality in this psycho day. Everything inside there, while spookier than the rest of the organization because that was where they kept a small field of failed transfers, was organized in a way he could understand. Going in, they’d have the home field advantage, and he’d use it to every last –
“We will wait,” Benoit said. “Five minutes. It should be more than enough time for them to get inside, if they are not inside already.”
“Then what?”
“Then,” Frenchie answered him, “we will find them inside. Capture if you can manage it, but do not forget we have a greater plan in motion. Do not exhaust yourselves by hurrying the inevitable.”
He just needed his goggles. Whether that meant taking Gwen down and throwing her at his lead’s feet was something he could barely think about. His lead wasn’t the only one dying for something back under their control.
Maybe that was it. She didn’t have Gwen, so as long as that didn’t change, she needed someone else under her thumb. He wasn’t special, he was just a stand-in. He let out a breath. He was relieved. Sort of.
“Five minutes,” Jason confirmed. “Okay. We can do that.”
He could do that.
He hoped.
“It’s not like you saw it,” Xander grunted, taking his hand off the ladder. He threw David over his shoulder anyway - to which the kid responded with an uncomfortable ‘oof’ - probably because his dragging arm was getting tired or it’d make too much noise if they let him scrap against the ground. “Alright, fine. Let’s go in the easy way. But the roof would’ve been better.”
Awwwwwww.
The hallway was empty and horribly under lit. If it was a back way, Alex guessed they’d shut off the lights because no one needed them. Still, it didn’t mean they couldn’t have something flickering on the ceiling. Once they stepped in and cleared the door behind them, it snapped shut and left them in total darkness. The pain of his sight being switched off so quickly almost hurt, a lot like that damn headache he really, really, really could’ve used aspirin or morphine for, and it wasn’t until he heard a tiny click and the sound a live current running overhead that he realized Xander had found a switch.
“Let there be light,” the guy muttered, his hand on the tiny flip.
The place had no other floors, it seemed. The walls went up until they reached the top of the building, at least four stories away. They held up a massive ceiling tied to hundreds of giant hanging lamps, wide as elephants and turning on row by row with a heavy clank. The electricity shrieked as it ran through the wires, the sharp hum tearing at his ears as everything sparked to life. The lights themselves were as creepy and sterile as everything else; they were too white, beyond the point where they could’ve actually been called white and were pushing some weird almost-blue that washed out the colour of everything. Gwen’s red shirt was practically grey. His grey shirt was... more grey. Everything else was just pale.
This is definitely an Agency building, he said. But where are all the Agents?
“They’re here.”
He seemed so sure of it. Were they ‘faded’, too? No, they couldn’t be. Xander had a way of standing when he was eyeing a target and he wasn’t doing it now. So they were alone in here.
Sloppy was exactly the word they needed to describe this. A free waltz to the back door? A simple code to get in? No guards, no patrols, no sirens, no alarms, no security cameras – nothing. Gwen was right about this being too easy, but he was almost convinced the silence was normal. The Agents had an air about them screaming they were too good to get attacked but they welcomed anyone who wanted to try. The Frenchman had it. His enormous friend did, too. Xander oozed it night and day, so maybe they really didn’t see a point in setting up a defence. Easy getting in, he realized, but climbing out of the pit of fire was going to be a different story. Not that he’d call this a fire. If anything, this was an ice box.
You think they’re watching us?
“Nah. They won’t care until we get in.”
‘Get in’?
We aren’t inside?
“This is like their lobby.”
Nice to see they were big on hospitality around here. ‘Hospital’, anyway.
What they thought was a hallway when the lights were off had in fact been a piling of storage crates on either side of them. The wood looked dark in here, too obscured for him to pick out what tree it came from – as if he could’ve done it when he had a normal setting – and stacked until it reached halfway up the wall. Empty? More than one row? He had no idea. The only thing he could make out was that the corridor the crates formed was roughly three car-lengths long. After them, as Xander, Gwen and David walked/were dragged out of that mini-fortress, they found the rest of the room wide, barren and isolated. There was nothing in here even though it stretched farther than he could see. The lights in back end of the building hadn’t turned on, so outside their cold glow, the rest of the place was in shadows. Empty shadows, he noted. For all the attention they were getting, they might as well have been ghosts.
Feeling ‘homey’ yet?
“Good question.” Xander dropped the kid on the ground. Politely, of course, but David still needed a minute to shake the fall off. “So. Any of this starting to look familiar?”
“No,” David answered. “I ‘aven’t seen any of this before. I don’t know where we are.”
The kid’s mouth twitched like a crazy man. Xander approved of this reaction. He got closer and walked up to him, kneeling in front of David and giving him an interested look.
“I’d say one of you does,” Xander said. “The banshee’s up?”
“Don’t make me get her out.” Less of a threat, more of a desperate plea. “She’s insane. I only let ‘er roam around when there’s nobody near – she’s brutal.”
If this was the lobby, where the hell was the rest of the lab? Xander must’ve been thinking the same thing, because he smiled at David’s remark and continued waiting expectantly. At that, the kid sighed gravely, closed his eyes and said nothing. His face twitched again, harder, but for the next several minutes, long enough for Xander to get bored and stand back up, he was silent.
“Power imbalance,” the guy said, shrewdly. “I guess it’s harder to switch over if you don’t have someone in charge.”
Good to know this could’ve been worse.
“But it’s all going to get better very, very soon.” If he’d been just a little bit less refined, he would’ve clapped his hands in excitement. Alex felt it catching a bit. “Banshee! Get out here! We need a way in.”
If you know this is the lobby, shouldn’t you know where the next door is?
“It changes from place to place. Banshee, wake the hell up!”
The kid’s eyes popped open, growing abnormally wide in shock before slamming down into a pointed squint. There was no teeth baring or lunging for somebody’s throat this time. Instead, the thing was satisfied with growling a heated, “You brought me back.”
Alex didn’t like the look in his/her eye.
“Yes we did,” Xander said, “but only for a minute.”
“You brought me back.”
Maybe we should step away a little...
“You brought me back!”
Xander?
He wanted to at least turn his head to look at Gwen. He’d’ve felt better knowing she was there but he completely understood if she wanted to turn around and bolt for the door. Alex guessed it’d be open still. As welcoming as the Agency would be of an opponent, they were equally willing to give them one last chance to think about what the fuck they were walking into.
“You brought me back,” the banshee said, getting louder and beginning to echo in the open room. “You brought me back! You brought me back, you brought me back, you brought me back.”
Xander responded to this by putting his hand over the banshee’s face. Surprisingly, not only did it work to shut the kid up, but Alex’s fingers weren’t immediately bitten off.
“I bet you want out of that body, too,” he said. “How about you show us where the door is and we’ll shop around for something... nice.”
“Body. My body.”
It didn’t take a psychic to know ‘body’ was the new ‘pancakes’.
“That’s right,” Xander said, like he was talking to a child. “A nice, new body – all yours. So where’s it?”
“My body. My body, my body...”
The kid’s eyes were wild and, suddenly, he started scratching at the ground in front of him, digging at it like it was supposed to be made of sand. He/she was going to tear his nails doing that, but Xander didn’t stop her. Instead he mused, “Looks like it’s in the floor.”
Like a storm cellar?
“Probably.” He looked at Gwen. “You worked some magic getting us in this far. Think you can open door number two?”
* * *
The second her hand got out of his lap, Jason crushed his legs together and slumped against the window as politely as he could. Alright. He’d made it. It was over now, so he was free to just... forget that ever happened and focus on the mission. Completely – he was completely focused on the job. She wanted him to write a report. He’d heard that because he’d been paying attention to what was coming out of her mouth and not what... hell – she probably did that to everybody! If Benoit had a good chuckle, then this wasn’t something to panic over. There was nothing to do but brush it off and it wasn’t as if it was his first time being in that situation before, only it normally happened somewhere he was drunk, off company time and not surrounded by superior Agents who could break his neck as fast as he could break someone else’s.
Report. Reporting. She wanted a report on this. Not on this – on the case. On their actions surrounding the case, she – the Agency – wanted a report written up and... slowly, he was filled with a new kind of dread. How much did she want him to include? Just the basics? ‘Found target, found Alexander, lost them both after they teamed up, caught them again in Elmira/Charlton’. It was short and to the point, but it’d mean leaving out a lot of details other people would call crucial. How his case had merged with another, for example. As he kept trying to tell everyone, this wasn’t really or entirely his fault. If it was his word over Gary’s, Jason would win in a heartbeat, but if he left it out altogether and his lead thought he was trying to get out of it, or if he wrote it down and she insisted he should’ve been fast enough to get away from the case, she could ruin everything he’d worked so hard to achieve. A gold record wasn’t a requirement or even something this business thought of as possible, but he’d come closer to it than anyone he knew and he wasn’t going to let her screw it up for him. More importantly, he wasn’t going to piss her off and give her a reason to.
That ‘for now’, as ominous as it was, had to be a bluff. She would never actually do this again. Where her hand had been, how close her nails had gotten... but just the way she patted the inside of his thigh – how bad was it if he thought that was the easiest part to deal with – gave off a ‘good Jason, you did very well’ vibe. Unless he fucked it up again, and he wouldn’t, she’d stay happy and off of him and then he wouldn’t have to worry about breaking rank to snap at her, which he’d nearly done three times. She must’ve noticed his discipline. He would’ve asked for a cookie, but he felt he could manage without anything else from her.
His leg was still warm. He scratched at it. Real subtle, genius.
The Flunky drove until the Elmira lab grew on the horizon. Jason was relieved to see it. Finally, a bit of normality in this psycho day. Everything inside there, while spookier than the rest of the organization because that was where they kept a small field of failed transfers, was organized in a way he could understand. Going in, they’d have the home field advantage, and he’d use it to every last –
“We will wait,” Benoit said. “Five minutes. It should be more than enough time for them to get inside, if they are not inside already.”
“Then what?”
“Then,” Frenchie answered him, “we will find them inside. Capture if you can manage it, but do not forget we have a greater plan in motion. Do not exhaust yourselves by hurrying the inevitable.”
He just needed his goggles. Whether that meant taking Gwen down and throwing her at his lead’s feet was something he could barely think about. His lead wasn’t the only one dying for something back under their control.
Maybe that was it. She didn’t have Gwen, so as long as that didn’t change, she needed someone else under her thumb. He wasn’t special, he was just a stand-in. He let out a breath. He was relieved. Sort of.
“Five minutes,” Jason confirmed. “Okay. We can do that.”
He could do that.
He hoped.
Last edited by Tartra on Mon Jan 10, 2011 3:08 pm; edited 2 times in total
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Sun Aug 22, 2010 9:52 pm
She couldn't be more proud of herself as she turned back to look at the darkened hallway sitting open before them. These goggles were amazing and she definitely planned on hanging onto them for as long as possible - at least for as long as the Agency continued to be a threat. Not only did they connect her to the Agency computer systems - and although she needed codes to really unlock anything too important - they also connected her to the two most dangerous people in her life right now. Stephanie and her partner, Jason. And then there was, of course this Gary person who might be able to be tricked again into giving her links and access to so much more. And anything she didn't get from him, she'd just steal from Jason's knowledge of the goggles. Coupled with her natural powers of invading people's minds - including even Agents - she could be uncatchable!
Mentally reaching into the room ahead of them, Gwen proceeded forth without fear, albeit still cautious about setting off alarms, but she knew there was no one else in there. Even so, she jumped a little and clung to Alex's presence when the door shut quickly behind them, leaving them in darkness. She knew Xander was adjusting a light of some kind before the room actually became illuminated, feeling his hand manipulating the toggle to turn them on. Blinking with a slight squint at first, she turned in a circle and let her eyes wander over the large open space.
It was like...an illusion or something. There were most definitely people here - she knew there were - but they did not occupy the above ground floor. In fact it looked to be nothing more than a large warehouse of some kind. The colors of everything hurt her eyes a little, making her feel like it was both extremely bright and too dark at the same time, causing her to squint as she looked around. She couldn't tell if it was the color of the walls or the lights or what, but either way it held a note of menace that she could feel through her skin. The tower of crates surrounding them was a bit stifling, even though there was plenty of space for them to walk between them, but once they came to the open area in the middle of the building, it wasn't much better. The expansive emptiness combined with the shadows wrapped around them sent a shiver up her spine and made her cling to the corridor of crates for something to keep her rooted.
Gwen turned back to look at the two men with her as Xander started to address David with the expected questions. David might not have been here before, but the other in his head certainly had. She felt her shoulders tense as Xander began to call out for the other "insane" one - the one that had tried to bite her and freaked her out with all of that mental skipping - and she frowned at his back as he continued to insist on asking her for assistance.
No don't!-WHY!? she pulsed to Alex hoping that Xander might be able to hear her protest as well, like he had in the car.
God! Was he insane? This was not the place to unleash THAT thing, especially not when so much depended on them remaining undetected and getting out safely. Wasn't there enough unpredictability in this situation as it is? But of course, whether Xander or Alex heard her, it fell on deaf ears as the other rose to consciousness and she felt David slip down into a cloud of murky black. It was odd, she could still feel him there, but more like a faded pattern on the wall than an actual presence. She did not know if he could see or hear anything that was currently going on - he was untouchable in his current state.
And of course, the constantly shifting mental landscape of the "Banshee" set her on edge and turned her stomach, but she kept her protests to herself hoping to glean something useful from that warped and diseased mind. Immediately the banshee returned to her quick spurts of speech, both repetitive and overzealous at the same time. In Gwen's mind, she could see images of the building on the hill and feel a cosmic push and pull surrounding her body as she traveled further and further away from the facility. So when Xander answered her that they'd "brought her back" for only a minute, she knew right away that was not what the banshee meant.
She's been here before.
Finally the possessed teenager devolved into the rapid repetition of the phrase and Gwen tried to search her memories before being jolted around by her neck where ever the banshee's consciousness currently focused.
She's been in this room...I think...
It was hard to say exactly when the banshee had teleported out of here and what room she'd been in, her memories flying like a news reel over a familiar looking crate and blue-white lights that washed the color out of everything - but she wasn't completely certain if there weren't crates somewhere else and how much of the different rooms in this building were painted this way. And her memories were a bit harder to cling to, even diving past the circle of the banshee's mental focus - what she was currently consciously thinking about - everything seemed to alter around her like she was standing inside a kaleidoscope, things half-seen and hinted at before it all twisted and changed shape around her.
So, when Xander started talking about getting the banshee into her own body, Gwen immediately felt a bunch of red flags go up in her mind. Would that even be a good idea? Sure, her current situation was what had supposedly destroyed the "woman's" psyche in the first place - according to David - but at this point was it even salvageable? But who knew? Maybe being returned to her own body would help level her out and return some semblance of sanity.
As the new obsession took hold in the teenager's mind and he started to dig at the floor like a rodent in the bottom of a cage, Gwen got a flash in her mind of a door that opened into the floor. Other than that image repeated, the banshee had nothing to offer by way of a clue and Gwen perked up when Xander turned to her for the answers. Within the odd light, her bright blue eyes had turned a drab shade but still sparkled brightly as she gave him a small smile and nodded.
"Uh, sure. I can try," she didn't like sounding so uncertain, especially when he turned to her with such a confident expectancy, but it was truthfully how she felt. Finding the first door and even opening it had been mostly based on luck and the rest was being made up as she went along.
Slipping the goggles back over her eyes, she smiled slowly as the orange light illuminated the whole space, beyond the beam of light that they stood in, like night vision goggles almost, except the bright color made it seem like the room was filled with daylight. Still facing the doorway that they'd come from, she looked over the crates piled on top of each other, curiosity making her allow the little pop-ups of information cover her screen as she looked them over.
"What the--?" she lifted the goggles up just so they covered her eyebrows and gave Xander a level look. "How many frigging mouthwashes, toothbrushes, and little shampoo bottles do these guys frigging need? Honestly." She shook her head at him as if she were severely disappointed in him even though he kept saying he was just an ex-Agent - and she really was. She'd fully expected there to be high-tech weaponry or other gadgetry of some kind in those boxes. Not a supply of toiletries and things she'd expect to see in someone's luggage. Slipping the goggles back down she murmured, "The energy bars I can understand, though." What with all the running and chasing these people did.
Shaking off that distraction, she moved her eyesight further into the building, looking over the walls that stretched out a mile away from end to end and about half a mile wide in the middle. It's like an airplane hangar or something, she thought as she looked for and found the "front doors" that Xander had pointed out first when they'd been outside. Letting her eyes trail up, she singled out the doorway where they would have come in on the roof with an elevated walkway underneath it that just hovered over empty space. From the pop-up windows of information, she identified that the walkway moved on a track that could be operated both manually and mechanically and was mainly used for accessing the system of lights on the ceiling. With how tall the building was, it was expected that a step-ladder would not cut it when a lightbulb needed changing, she supposed.
Turning back to the front doors along the opposite wall from the back door, which were obscured by darkness, a few feet away from it a pop-up of information pointed to a spot on the ground. The information stated was a code that she suspected identified the base number of the building they were in. Stepping forward, she disappeared out of the circle of light, only stopping to motion to Xander before she was completely swallowed by the darkness.
As she neared the spot to stand over it, all she saw at first was a symbol about 15 feet wide on all sides. "There's something painted on the ground," she said absently, being careful not to stand on it as she tried to see what it was a picture of. "A big arrow or something, in a circle." In the light of the goggles, it wasn't actual colors but a hinted at design, the different shades just a few notches lighter and darker than the color of the actual floor. If the lights were on over here, it would probably fade right into the ground and barely be noticed at all.
Gwen moved quickly around it coming to stand with her back to the front doors before stepping forward onto it. "The Agency logo?" she asked Xander, not even really aware of his location at the moment. She was still looking over the circle itself, exploring every inch of it and curiously placed her feet on the two small triangles in the middle of the much larger one - they were the appropriate size and distance apart from each other for her to stand comfortable with a foot on each one.
A small exclamation left her throat as she felt energy surge beneath her in a loud hum and the floor seemed to jolt slightly before she was moving downward sinking below the floor. It moved so fast, she barely got to the edge of the thing before she was left looking up from the large hole that it made in the floor of the warehouse. Moving the goggles off of her face, her voice came echoing up the well with a slightly anxious note as she watched the light from the room above grow distant as the elevator descended.
"Alex-ex-ex-ex!"
As a preteen, she'd had a habit of antagonizing her fellow classmates and ruthlessly beating them in fights. Even as a girly cheerleader in highschool, she'd been known for getting physical to solve arguments and establish her dominance. Her mother and father had signed her up for kick-boxing and martial arts classes to help channel that violent energy into something useful. It didn't really help much, except that after years of gathering only the most submissive and loyal peers around her, she could manipulate them into doing her dirty work for her, often delegating aggressive tasks to the other girls and young men within her inner circle of friends. And she'd also learned how to pummel the shit out of someone without leaving a mark. Coupled with a fantastic grade point average, there was very little she couldn't get away with by her senior year.
After being contacted by the Agency for a possible job opportunity - something low management at first - she no longer sought to become "Queen" of her school and possibly the college she'd been planning to go to, but replaced it with the desire to become a part of something much bigger than herself. Short of joining the military or finding religion, the Agency offered not only fulfillment of that but a use for every gift she'd developed in her young life and the promise of unlocking the full extent of her potential. For the first few years, she'd trained to become an Agent, while keeping a job in the main computer facilities and helping manage the systems of files and reports from the Agents in the field. Not a lot of information was open to her at that time and it wasn't until she'd upgraded to Agent status that she got a hint of what the Agency was really about.
At that point, she'd found her true calling in life, whether it was helping keep an eye on different targets in the field, or working briefly in the labs as an assistant to lead Agents. The total disregard for free will and the human experimentation appealed greatly to her right away as well as the goal of controlling those with abnormal abilities. It was a cause she believed in whole-heartedly and had dedicated her entire adult life to helping them achieve it.
In the past several years since taking on Gwen's case, her idle interests and desire for violence had been stifled and set aside, hidden within her deeper layers as something unnecessary and inconsequential. For some peculiar reason, Jason reawakened these desires and made her remember what it was like to cause someone pain and discomfort and to manipulate them into doing exactly what she wanted them to do. And she felt a bit dismayed that she'd let herself get so out of practice with it. Where had the dreams and hobbies of her youth gone?
No. Nevermind. It was not important. This was not something she wanted to pursue. As much enjoyment as she'd gotten out of tormenting her partner and twisting him around her naughty, probing fingers, Gwen and her desire to possess the other woman's body had fled from her mind several times, completely replaced with the joy of making Jason squirm and fantasies of what else she could get away with right underneath the French Agents' noses. Short of failure, that was the worst thing that could happen.
She was losing sight of herself and her goals. Stupid Jason and his distracting...delicious vulnerabilities. How could she expect to achieve anything if she let herself get side-tracked so easily? She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes watching as his hand went to his leg and scratched it slightly, causing an imperceptible shiver to course through her. God, how she wanted to tease him and hurt him some more... So weak and so strong, how satisfying it would be to break him... No! God dammit!
Nothing showed through the flawless mask of her face even as she battled within, trying to lock away these old memories and troublesome emotions rearing their ugly heads. She needed to stay focused! It was almost over and he would be out of her hair for good! No more taunting her with his boyish good looks just begging to be forced to break down and cry like a baby in her wounding arms. Or better yet...the other way around...
Okay! Enough! Where had her self-control gone!? This couldn't get any worse. They were mere minutes away from the first part of the most crucial plan that would decide the rest of her life and here she was wrestling with old demons. The past has no power over me! Enough! The sight of the Elmira lab, a large grey slab of concrete and mortar, broad and menacing on the hilltop, helped ease her back into focus and quiet the hormones and wild imaginings in her heart. Gwen. It will almost be over. This torment will be ended finally.
After Benoit finished speaking, she nodded in assent, taking a deep and calming breath even as she turned back to Jason. It probably wasn't important right now, but it was also a test in reestablishing control of her inner layers, talking to him without allowing herself to get sucked back into fantasies of pain and torture involving him.
"For your report, I would like it to be concise and complete. Just the necessary details to establish a chronological order of events, but no need to write down where we ate lunch or the intricacies of our conversations," she probably didn't need to tell him that, but she felt like mentioning it. There would be no misunderstanding of what she expected from him - once she had Gwen in her grasp, the last thing she'd want to do was delay her transfer with sending paperwork back to be re-edited and needing to deal with him further. The whole point of him making a report was so that she wouldn't have to and could deal with other, more important things.
"That includes the first failure to capture the target, which I take full responsibility for - the necessary information should have come from me and not a third party where it got lost in translation - as well as the second when she escaped my grasp in the apartment building. In light of our inevitable success, our ability to adapt and learn from mistakes will be all the more meaningful rather than sweeping it under the rug as if it never happened."
She did not feel it was necessary to tell him NOT to mention her abuse, knowing that he was embarrassed enough by it and also that he wouldn't dare defy her like that. Especially not when she was going to be the first to approve the report before it would be sent in to the higher-ups.
As the car approached the facility standing upon the hill, she felt a sense of triumph that she'd kept such a handle on herself and her thoughts after her most recent loss of control. And then she felt slightly ill that she was even celebrating something that should have been second nature to her. It would be a miracle if she didn't end up killing her partner in the next 3 minutes they had left to wait, just to banish him and these abhorrent desires from her heart once and for all. Stupid...beautiful man...
Mentally reaching into the room ahead of them, Gwen proceeded forth without fear, albeit still cautious about setting off alarms, but she knew there was no one else in there. Even so, she jumped a little and clung to Alex's presence when the door shut quickly behind them, leaving them in darkness. She knew Xander was adjusting a light of some kind before the room actually became illuminated, feeling his hand manipulating the toggle to turn them on. Blinking with a slight squint at first, she turned in a circle and let her eyes wander over the large open space.
It was like...an illusion or something. There were most definitely people here - she knew there were - but they did not occupy the above ground floor. In fact it looked to be nothing more than a large warehouse of some kind. The colors of everything hurt her eyes a little, making her feel like it was both extremely bright and too dark at the same time, causing her to squint as she looked around. She couldn't tell if it was the color of the walls or the lights or what, but either way it held a note of menace that she could feel through her skin. The tower of crates surrounding them was a bit stifling, even though there was plenty of space for them to walk between them, but once they came to the open area in the middle of the building, it wasn't much better. The expansive emptiness combined with the shadows wrapped around them sent a shiver up her spine and made her cling to the corridor of crates for something to keep her rooted.
Gwen turned back to look at the two men with her as Xander started to address David with the expected questions. David might not have been here before, but the other in his head certainly had. She felt her shoulders tense as Xander began to call out for the other "insane" one - the one that had tried to bite her and freaked her out with all of that mental skipping - and she frowned at his back as he continued to insist on asking her for assistance.
No don't!-WHY!? she pulsed to Alex hoping that Xander might be able to hear her protest as well, like he had in the car.
God! Was he insane? This was not the place to unleash THAT thing, especially not when so much depended on them remaining undetected and getting out safely. Wasn't there enough unpredictability in this situation as it is? But of course, whether Xander or Alex heard her, it fell on deaf ears as the other rose to consciousness and she felt David slip down into a cloud of murky black. It was odd, she could still feel him there, but more like a faded pattern on the wall than an actual presence. She did not know if he could see or hear anything that was currently going on - he was untouchable in his current state.
And of course, the constantly shifting mental landscape of the "Banshee" set her on edge and turned her stomach, but she kept her protests to herself hoping to glean something useful from that warped and diseased mind. Immediately the banshee returned to her quick spurts of speech, both repetitive and overzealous at the same time. In Gwen's mind, she could see images of the building on the hill and feel a cosmic push and pull surrounding her body as she traveled further and further away from the facility. So when Xander answered her that they'd "brought her back" for only a minute, she knew right away that was not what the banshee meant.
She's been here before.
Finally the possessed teenager devolved into the rapid repetition of the phrase and Gwen tried to search her memories before being jolted around by her neck where ever the banshee's consciousness currently focused.
She's been in this room...I think...
It was hard to say exactly when the banshee had teleported out of here and what room she'd been in, her memories flying like a news reel over a familiar looking crate and blue-white lights that washed the color out of everything - but she wasn't completely certain if there weren't crates somewhere else and how much of the different rooms in this building were painted this way. And her memories were a bit harder to cling to, even diving past the circle of the banshee's mental focus - what she was currently consciously thinking about - everything seemed to alter around her like she was standing inside a kaleidoscope, things half-seen and hinted at before it all twisted and changed shape around her.
So, when Xander started talking about getting the banshee into her own body, Gwen immediately felt a bunch of red flags go up in her mind. Would that even be a good idea? Sure, her current situation was what had supposedly destroyed the "woman's" psyche in the first place - according to David - but at this point was it even salvageable? But who knew? Maybe being returned to her own body would help level her out and return some semblance of sanity.
As the new obsession took hold in the teenager's mind and he started to dig at the floor like a rodent in the bottom of a cage, Gwen got a flash in her mind of a door that opened into the floor. Other than that image repeated, the banshee had nothing to offer by way of a clue and Gwen perked up when Xander turned to her for the answers. Within the odd light, her bright blue eyes had turned a drab shade but still sparkled brightly as she gave him a small smile and nodded.
"Uh, sure. I can try," she didn't like sounding so uncertain, especially when he turned to her with such a confident expectancy, but it was truthfully how she felt. Finding the first door and even opening it had been mostly based on luck and the rest was being made up as she went along.
Slipping the goggles back over her eyes, she smiled slowly as the orange light illuminated the whole space, beyond the beam of light that they stood in, like night vision goggles almost, except the bright color made it seem like the room was filled with daylight. Still facing the doorway that they'd come from, she looked over the crates piled on top of each other, curiosity making her allow the little pop-ups of information cover her screen as she looked them over.
"What the--?" she lifted the goggles up just so they covered her eyebrows and gave Xander a level look. "How many frigging mouthwashes, toothbrushes, and little shampoo bottles do these guys frigging need? Honestly." She shook her head at him as if she were severely disappointed in him even though he kept saying he was just an ex-Agent - and she really was. She'd fully expected there to be high-tech weaponry or other gadgetry of some kind in those boxes. Not a supply of toiletries and things she'd expect to see in someone's luggage. Slipping the goggles back down she murmured, "The energy bars I can understand, though." What with all the running and chasing these people did.
Shaking off that distraction, she moved her eyesight further into the building, looking over the walls that stretched out a mile away from end to end and about half a mile wide in the middle. It's like an airplane hangar or something, she thought as she looked for and found the "front doors" that Xander had pointed out first when they'd been outside. Letting her eyes trail up, she singled out the doorway where they would have come in on the roof with an elevated walkway underneath it that just hovered over empty space. From the pop-up windows of information, she identified that the walkway moved on a track that could be operated both manually and mechanically and was mainly used for accessing the system of lights on the ceiling. With how tall the building was, it was expected that a step-ladder would not cut it when a lightbulb needed changing, she supposed.
Turning back to the front doors along the opposite wall from the back door, which were obscured by darkness, a few feet away from it a pop-up of information pointed to a spot on the ground. The information stated was a code that she suspected identified the base number of the building they were in. Stepping forward, she disappeared out of the circle of light, only stopping to motion to Xander before she was completely swallowed by the darkness.
As she neared the spot to stand over it, all she saw at first was a symbol about 15 feet wide on all sides. "There's something painted on the ground," she said absently, being careful not to stand on it as she tried to see what it was a picture of. "A big arrow or something, in a circle." In the light of the goggles, it wasn't actual colors but a hinted at design, the different shades just a few notches lighter and darker than the color of the actual floor. If the lights were on over here, it would probably fade right into the ground and barely be noticed at all.
Gwen moved quickly around it coming to stand with her back to the front doors before stepping forward onto it. "The Agency logo?" she asked Xander, not even really aware of his location at the moment. She was still looking over the circle itself, exploring every inch of it and curiously placed her feet on the two small triangles in the middle of the much larger one - they were the appropriate size and distance apart from each other for her to stand comfortable with a foot on each one.
A small exclamation left her throat as she felt energy surge beneath her in a loud hum and the floor seemed to jolt slightly before she was moving downward sinking below the floor. It moved so fast, she barely got to the edge of the thing before she was left looking up from the large hole that it made in the floor of the warehouse. Moving the goggles off of her face, her voice came echoing up the well with a slightly anxious note as she watched the light from the room above grow distant as the elevator descended.
"Alex-ex-ex-ex!"
****
After all that excitement, going back to her silent thoughts was both a curse and a relief. On the one hand, it was nice to slip right back into her obsessive planning and thoughts of Gwen, going over familiar territory and anticipating the coming fight and how it would play out. On the other, she found her body still heated and pumping with delight over what she'd just experienced while "playing" with Jason. Even as a teenage girl, Stephanie had possessed a sadistic nature. As a 17 year old young woman, she'd been recruited into the main facilities of the Agency after spending a few years making her way through several professional fighting classes and competitions. As a preteen, she'd had a habit of antagonizing her fellow classmates and ruthlessly beating them in fights. Even as a girly cheerleader in highschool, she'd been known for getting physical to solve arguments and establish her dominance. Her mother and father had signed her up for kick-boxing and martial arts classes to help channel that violent energy into something useful. It didn't really help much, except that after years of gathering only the most submissive and loyal peers around her, she could manipulate them into doing her dirty work for her, often delegating aggressive tasks to the other girls and young men within her inner circle of friends. And she'd also learned how to pummel the shit out of someone without leaving a mark. Coupled with a fantastic grade point average, there was very little she couldn't get away with by her senior year.
After being contacted by the Agency for a possible job opportunity - something low management at first - she no longer sought to become "Queen" of her school and possibly the college she'd been planning to go to, but replaced it with the desire to become a part of something much bigger than herself. Short of joining the military or finding religion, the Agency offered not only fulfillment of that but a use for every gift she'd developed in her young life and the promise of unlocking the full extent of her potential. For the first few years, she'd trained to become an Agent, while keeping a job in the main computer facilities and helping manage the systems of files and reports from the Agents in the field. Not a lot of information was open to her at that time and it wasn't until she'd upgraded to Agent status that she got a hint of what the Agency was really about.
At that point, she'd found her true calling in life, whether it was helping keep an eye on different targets in the field, or working briefly in the labs as an assistant to lead Agents. The total disregard for free will and the human experimentation appealed greatly to her right away as well as the goal of controlling those with abnormal abilities. It was a cause she believed in whole-heartedly and had dedicated her entire adult life to helping them achieve it.
In the past several years since taking on Gwen's case, her idle interests and desire for violence had been stifled and set aside, hidden within her deeper layers as something unnecessary and inconsequential. For some peculiar reason, Jason reawakened these desires and made her remember what it was like to cause someone pain and discomfort and to manipulate them into doing exactly what she wanted them to do. And she felt a bit dismayed that she'd let herself get so out of practice with it. Where had the dreams and hobbies of her youth gone?
No. Nevermind. It was not important. This was not something she wanted to pursue. As much enjoyment as she'd gotten out of tormenting her partner and twisting him around her naughty, probing fingers, Gwen and her desire to possess the other woman's body had fled from her mind several times, completely replaced with the joy of making Jason squirm and fantasies of what else she could get away with right underneath the French Agents' noses. Short of failure, that was the worst thing that could happen.
She was losing sight of herself and her goals. Stupid Jason and his distracting...delicious vulnerabilities. How could she expect to achieve anything if she let herself get side-tracked so easily? She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes watching as his hand went to his leg and scratched it slightly, causing an imperceptible shiver to course through her. God, how she wanted to tease him and hurt him some more... So weak and so strong, how satisfying it would be to break him... No! God dammit!
Nothing showed through the flawless mask of her face even as she battled within, trying to lock away these old memories and troublesome emotions rearing their ugly heads. She needed to stay focused! It was almost over and he would be out of her hair for good! No more taunting her with his boyish good looks just begging to be forced to break down and cry like a baby in her wounding arms. Or better yet...the other way around...
Okay! Enough! Where had her self-control gone!? This couldn't get any worse. They were mere minutes away from the first part of the most crucial plan that would decide the rest of her life and here she was wrestling with old demons. The past has no power over me! Enough! The sight of the Elmira lab, a large grey slab of concrete and mortar, broad and menacing on the hilltop, helped ease her back into focus and quiet the hormones and wild imaginings in her heart. Gwen. It will almost be over. This torment will be ended finally.
After Benoit finished speaking, she nodded in assent, taking a deep and calming breath even as she turned back to Jason. It probably wasn't important right now, but it was also a test in reestablishing control of her inner layers, talking to him without allowing herself to get sucked back into fantasies of pain and torture involving him.
"For your report, I would like it to be concise and complete. Just the necessary details to establish a chronological order of events, but no need to write down where we ate lunch or the intricacies of our conversations," she probably didn't need to tell him that, but she felt like mentioning it. There would be no misunderstanding of what she expected from him - once she had Gwen in her grasp, the last thing she'd want to do was delay her transfer with sending paperwork back to be re-edited and needing to deal with him further. The whole point of him making a report was so that she wouldn't have to and could deal with other, more important things.
"That includes the first failure to capture the target, which I take full responsibility for - the necessary information should have come from me and not a third party where it got lost in translation - as well as the second when she escaped my grasp in the apartment building. In light of our inevitable success, our ability to adapt and learn from mistakes will be all the more meaningful rather than sweeping it under the rug as if it never happened."
She did not feel it was necessary to tell him NOT to mention her abuse, knowing that he was embarrassed enough by it and also that he wouldn't dare defy her like that. Especially not when she was going to be the first to approve the report before it would be sent in to the higher-ups.
As the car approached the facility standing upon the hill, she felt a sense of triumph that she'd kept such a handle on herself and her thoughts after her most recent loss of control. And then she felt slightly ill that she was even celebrating something that should have been second nature to her. It would be a miracle if she didn't end up killing her partner in the next 3 minutes they had left to wait, just to banish him and these abhorrent desires from her heart once and for all. Stupid...beautiful man...
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Wed Aug 25, 2010 7:51 pm
Gwen’s falling! Gwen’s falling, Gwen’s falling!
The surge of panic in his voice was way more than what he was used to. It split into surprise when Xander’s response was to grab the kid and throw him in after her. Absently, Alex hoped David had managed to grab onto the side of whatever the hell had grabbed Gwen and pulled her down into the darkness below, but mostly he was freaking out because what if that kid hit her and knocked her off? More importantly – even though he wasn’t thinking in complete sentences yet – he wanted to know what she, she as in the banshee, was going to do after she was realized she was down there alone and unsupervised. Well, not unsupervised. It wasn’t like Gwen was defenceless, but if the pack of Agents they’d been wondering about were down there...
“Okay. So where was she standing exactly?”
There! There, more to your right!
The floor had sealed up again. There was no way it was the same thing – same disc, same elevator, whatever anyone wanted to call it – that’d dropped down a second ago. For one thing, it didn’t float up; it came from the side and slipped back into place. Did... did that change anything? Was there some sort of system that randomized which one worked and which didn’t? If they got this to move, would they even end up in the same place as her?
“One foot here, one foot... here...”
Xander, hurry up!
No sooner had the words come out of his mouth than he saw the world turn black. In what had to be an incredibly plummeting feeling, thin rows of lights whipped past him. It was like they were in a tube, and it was only getting bluer and lighter as they went down, and although it been simply seconds that had passed, it felt like they’d been falling for hours. The disc Xander had planted himself on stayed put, more or less, but Alex could’ve sworn the speed lifted him off of it for a moment or two. The ride ended abruptly, slowing to a comfortable speed in an instant, but from the way he saw the quietly staggered step forward as they got off the crazy thing, he realized it was more jarring than he’d guessed. Fun trip. The Agents had a sense of humour after all.
“I feel sick.”
Where’s Gwen?
“Really sick.”
Look around! Find her!
“She’s right there, you psycho,” he muttered. He turned his head completely now, looking at her. Alex was relieved. No broken bones as far as he could tell, but if Xander saw something he didn’t, he wasn’t about to say anything. Unless it was a knife wound dripping acid, there was never a reason to complain - unless, of course, it was about something completely pointless like being dizzy. “If I puke, I’ll try not to aim for any of you.”
Alex turned his attention to the rest of the room. Dark, yes, but lit. This was more like it. There were thick terminals and giant towers of flashing lights, all of them maybe a few inches taller than he was. Everything was glowing and whirring with life and all of it carried that same, sickly blue overtone, but at least he didn’t feel like he was in some horror movie anymore. As for where to go from here, there were two options: back to standing on that disc, which seemed to be waiting for them, or down the hall towards more flashing lights. It seemed obvious. To the kid, though, the choice looked a little less...
“Down. There. Down. There. Down. There.”
It was he was beating a drum.
I still don’t see anybody.
“That’s gonna change damn soon.” Xander jerked his head towards the end of the hall, to where it forked into two sharply different directions. “Any choice of direction or should we split –”
Stop right there, Alex snapped, because the answer’s no. We stick together.
“Or we don’t and cover more ground faster.”
“Down. There. Down. There. Down. There. Down. There.”
“You’re gonna have to be more specific,” Xander said, “or else the two of you are going right and I’m going left.”
“Down. There. Down. There. Down –”
The kid was cradling his head in his hands. He looked agonized, almost as if he wanted to back out of this place completely. He wasn’t sure what the banshee thought was waiting for them, but he had the craziest idea maybe it wasn’t pleasant.
“Well, I’m not sitting around all day. Let’s get moving. Gwen, you take this freak and keep him-slash-her-slash-it from doing anything stupid,” he told her. “Alex and I are gonna see what’s lurking in the rest of the shadows. If you find anything... uh... call.”
That’s one-way! What happens if we find something?
“Then we use it and hoof our asses out of here.” Very notably, he held up both his hands and spread out his fingers. “Ten minutes. That’s all we’re gonna need. In, out, meet back here, and if you don’t see me – or us, hopefully – then go.”
Or we stick together?
“Nope. Split up. Don’t be afraid of a nut-shot if you see any Agents running around. It’s mostly techies down here anyway,” Xander said.
Techies with guns!
“Techies who have not seen a vagina since they crawled out of one. Just flash some skin,” he said. “They’ll have a heart attack and drop into a coma or bleed out from their nose. You’ll be fine. And in case Alex needs another reason for why splitting up is better, on the off-chance there is decent security here, they’ll have to thin their forces to spread out and chase us instead of ganging up and cornering us at once. Gwen, if you run into someone, let me know that, too. I’ll start a fire on this end or something. Everyone happy? Can we do this now? I'm tired of explaining shit.”
We can’t –
“Alex, I’m going to be out of your head in eight minutes, tops. It’s the very last time you’ll ever have to, so humour me and then you can do whatever the hell you want.”
Tempting. Incredibly, impossibly tempting. Xander sounded so sure they’d find the answer to the last six years somewhere in here.
“Down. There. Down. There. Down. There.”
... Gwen... He was actually saying this. These words were actually coming from him. Unbelievable. Would you be alright with... splitting up?
Of course she wouldn’t be alright. She wouldn’t be safe. She had the banshee who could turn on her at any second, and even if that other one, David, decided to slip back into action, they couldn’t trust him to cooperate. Whether he was an Agent or not didn’t affect how much damage he could do if he chose to scream, alert some guards, then teleport his ass as far away as he could manage just to get revenge for the way he’d been treated. Xander’s fault. The only semblance of reason behind putting some faith in them was that whoever was in the-boy-formerly-known-as-Nathan wanted out, too. And David had said he wasn’t in complete control over the teleportation, which he’d proven by not immediately taking off once he’d been slapped around a few times. Alex wasn’t much better off. If Xander decided to collapse in the middle of this... And if they did find the guy’s body, how were they going to reverse whatever’d been done to make them this way in the first place? In only ten minutes? It wasn’t happening. For once, the best plan would’ve been to unleash every sadistic urge he and David had ever had and purge the place of any and all Agent activity. That way, save for a gas attack from the vents, they’d have no reason to hurry as they wandered around.
“Tick tock, tick tock. The element of surprise’ll only last for so long,” he said. And as if to prove how raw his need to do this had become, he started walking backwards down the hall, his eyes locked onto hers as if trying to pull her in that direction. “You’re gonna have to face an army of Agents someday. It might as well be the techie-Trekkie kind.”
As if they counted. Alex kept that to himself, though. He didn’t want Xander thinking it was permission to do what he was saying.
Jason’s eyes had fallen back on the glasses. He idly twirled them in his hand by their stem. The dark glass – a hard plastic, actually – caught his reflection perfectly. In the while they’d spent waiting to make their move, he’d checked up on himself to see how bad he’d gotten.
Pretty bad. The cold sweat had left him but his eyes were wearier than he’d realized. They were half-lidded even though the effort it took to keep them that way had tricked him into believing he’d been making them bulge out. He didn’t seem to be able to stop chewing on his bottom lip, either. It made him look nervous and unsure of what to do, an image he’d been trying to avoid. Every twenty seconds, he had to stop his hand from rubbing over his face, just in case they thought he was trying to hide a yawn. He was tired enough without having to insist he wasn’t. It almost made him – except it really, really didn’t – want his lead to poke at his leg again. That’d snapped him awake. Sitting at the base of the hill, though... He wanted to sleep. The last chance he’d had was when Alexander had attacked him, and that wasn’t so much sleeping as it was forced nothingness.
Damn these senior Agents and their no-rest policy. They might have taken their time getting here, but it wasn’t as though they’d checked into a hotel for the night. Well, no point in thinking that was going to change anytime soon, not when they were ready to spring into action when one of the leads gave the order. After, he’d pass out whether they liked it or not. The thought of what she could do with in those few hours was immediately crushed by the more crippling fear of what his boss would say if this affected him like he felt it would. His mind was thick, his vision blurred at the edges, the seats of this car were still so comfy and all of that would add to him being sorely distracted when he got in there. His sole chance at reprieve was from facing off against his and only his target. First off, he knew what she could do, which beat the other man’s ‘look what I can kill you with’ box of tricks. Second, if she had his goggles, it didn’t matter if he was trudging through lava; he was going to get them back. He promised himself that. If she was swimming in his thoughts this second, he wanted her to know he was promising her, too.
‘Until then’. There was his dilemma in two miserable words. His head was drooping. He swung it up to a more respectable height. He did it as he breathed in, neatly killing two birds with one stone as he loudly gestured to his boredom. They wouldn’t care if he was entertained or not, but at least it’d remind them he was waiting for their signal.
She was too calm about this. Looking at the Agency building meant looking at her too, and she was as cool and collected as she’d ever been – maybe even more, now that she’d hammered out her orders about the report. Good to know she had it figured out. He wasn’t surprised. Everything had a role to play in her world. Their target’s part was obvious. He didn’t want ask what she expected him to be. He wasn’t sticking around long enough to find out.
“So – uh...” Who was that? Oh. That was his voice. Jason cleared his throat and forced himself to sound more alive. “It’s been five minutes.”
“Yes.”
Benoit said it flatly, like it wasn’t worth commenting on.
“... Exactly when did you plan –”
“When they are inside,” Flunky grunted. “Stop talking.”
‘Stop talking’. Like he was in charge.
“I’m just trying to make sure we don’t let them get too far ahead of us,” Jason said. “There’s a hundred places they could hide in there.”
“And there is only one out,” Flunky said. “Be quiet.”
“I want them away from the elevator,” Benoit said. “Far enough away to avoid seeing it shut down. I would rather them wander off thinking they had an exit and waste their time realizing they were trapped than know in advance.”
Okay, but they didn’t have to spend the whole time in the car. They could go up there and make sure their targets didn’t slip out through some back way instead of hoping they’d be able to see from here. Jason had the funniest feeling one of them was on the verge of calling out an hour for lunch. He didn’t doubt their dedication to their work – if Frenchie was only a quarter as determined to get Alexander as Jason’s lead, it was still ten times more than anything a normal person could feel – but... damn... After six years of nothing, the man had truly defined what it meant to be patient.
“Whatever you decide, I’ll work with it.”
It was the sole answer he could give that sounded halfway respectable. Benoit seemed approving enough. The Flunky just grunted again. He almost wanted to ask what his lead thought, but if she wanted him to know, she’d’ve said it already. So Jason went back to keeping his chin up and his breathing energetic. As long as no one blamed him for this, what did he care?
The surge of panic in his voice was way more than what he was used to. It split into surprise when Xander’s response was to grab the kid and throw him in after her. Absently, Alex hoped David had managed to grab onto the side of whatever the hell had grabbed Gwen and pulled her down into the darkness below, but mostly he was freaking out because what if that kid hit her and knocked her off? More importantly – even though he wasn’t thinking in complete sentences yet – he wanted to know what she, she as in the banshee, was going to do after she was realized she was down there alone and unsupervised. Well, not unsupervised. It wasn’t like Gwen was defenceless, but if the pack of Agents they’d been wondering about were down there...
“Okay. So where was she standing exactly?”
There! There, more to your right!
The floor had sealed up again. There was no way it was the same thing – same disc, same elevator, whatever anyone wanted to call it – that’d dropped down a second ago. For one thing, it didn’t float up; it came from the side and slipped back into place. Did... did that change anything? Was there some sort of system that randomized which one worked and which didn’t? If they got this to move, would they even end up in the same place as her?
“One foot here, one foot... here...”
Xander, hurry up!
No sooner had the words come out of his mouth than he saw the world turn black. In what had to be an incredibly plummeting feeling, thin rows of lights whipped past him. It was like they were in a tube, and it was only getting bluer and lighter as they went down, and although it been simply seconds that had passed, it felt like they’d been falling for hours. The disc Xander had planted himself on stayed put, more or less, but Alex could’ve sworn the speed lifted him off of it for a moment or two. The ride ended abruptly, slowing to a comfortable speed in an instant, but from the way he saw the quietly staggered step forward as they got off the crazy thing, he realized it was more jarring than he’d guessed. Fun trip. The Agents had a sense of humour after all.
“I feel sick.”
Where’s Gwen?
“Really sick.”
Look around! Find her!
“She’s right there, you psycho,” he muttered. He turned his head completely now, looking at her. Alex was relieved. No broken bones as far as he could tell, but if Xander saw something he didn’t, he wasn’t about to say anything. Unless it was a knife wound dripping acid, there was never a reason to complain - unless, of course, it was about something completely pointless like being dizzy. “If I puke, I’ll try not to aim for any of you.”
Alex turned his attention to the rest of the room. Dark, yes, but lit. This was more like it. There were thick terminals and giant towers of flashing lights, all of them maybe a few inches taller than he was. Everything was glowing and whirring with life and all of it carried that same, sickly blue overtone, but at least he didn’t feel like he was in some horror movie anymore. As for where to go from here, there were two options: back to standing on that disc, which seemed to be waiting for them, or down the hall towards more flashing lights. It seemed obvious. To the kid, though, the choice looked a little less...
“Down. There. Down. There. Down. There.”
It was he was beating a drum.
I still don’t see anybody.
“That’s gonna change damn soon.” Xander jerked his head towards the end of the hall, to where it forked into two sharply different directions. “Any choice of direction or should we split –”
Stop right there, Alex snapped, because the answer’s no. We stick together.
“Or we don’t and cover more ground faster.”
“Down. There. Down. There. Down. There. Down. There.”
“You’re gonna have to be more specific,” Xander said, “or else the two of you are going right and I’m going left.”
“Down. There. Down. There. Down –”
The kid was cradling his head in his hands. He looked agonized, almost as if he wanted to back out of this place completely. He wasn’t sure what the banshee thought was waiting for them, but he had the craziest idea maybe it wasn’t pleasant.
“Well, I’m not sitting around all day. Let’s get moving. Gwen, you take this freak and keep him-slash-her-slash-it from doing anything stupid,” he told her. “Alex and I are gonna see what’s lurking in the rest of the shadows. If you find anything... uh... call.”
That’s one-way! What happens if we find something?
“Then we use it and hoof our asses out of here.” Very notably, he held up both his hands and spread out his fingers. “Ten minutes. That’s all we’re gonna need. In, out, meet back here, and if you don’t see me – or us, hopefully – then go.”
Or we stick together?
“Nope. Split up. Don’t be afraid of a nut-shot if you see any Agents running around. It’s mostly techies down here anyway,” Xander said.
Techies with guns!
“Techies who have not seen a vagina since they crawled out of one. Just flash some skin,” he said. “They’ll have a heart attack and drop into a coma or bleed out from their nose. You’ll be fine. And in case Alex needs another reason for why splitting up is better, on the off-chance there is decent security here, they’ll have to thin their forces to spread out and chase us instead of ganging up and cornering us at once. Gwen, if you run into someone, let me know that, too. I’ll start a fire on this end or something. Everyone happy? Can we do this now? I'm tired of explaining shit.”
We can’t –
“Alex, I’m going to be out of your head in eight minutes, tops. It’s the very last time you’ll ever have to, so humour me and then you can do whatever the hell you want.”
Tempting. Incredibly, impossibly tempting. Xander sounded so sure they’d find the answer to the last six years somewhere in here.
“Down. There. Down. There. Down. There.”
... Gwen... He was actually saying this. These words were actually coming from him. Unbelievable. Would you be alright with... splitting up?
Of course she wouldn’t be alright. She wouldn’t be safe. She had the banshee who could turn on her at any second, and even if that other one, David, decided to slip back into action, they couldn’t trust him to cooperate. Whether he was an Agent or not didn’t affect how much damage he could do if he chose to scream, alert some guards, then teleport his ass as far away as he could manage just to get revenge for the way he’d been treated. Xander’s fault. The only semblance of reason behind putting some faith in them was that whoever was in the-boy-formerly-known-as-Nathan wanted out, too. And David had said he wasn’t in complete control over the teleportation, which he’d proven by not immediately taking off once he’d been slapped around a few times. Alex wasn’t much better off. If Xander decided to collapse in the middle of this... And if they did find the guy’s body, how were they going to reverse whatever’d been done to make them this way in the first place? In only ten minutes? It wasn’t happening. For once, the best plan would’ve been to unleash every sadistic urge he and David had ever had and purge the place of any and all Agent activity. That way, save for a gas attack from the vents, they’d have no reason to hurry as they wandered around.
“Tick tock, tick tock. The element of surprise’ll only last for so long,” he said. And as if to prove how raw his need to do this had become, he started walking backwards down the hall, his eyes locked onto hers as if trying to pull her in that direction. “You’re gonna have to face an army of Agents someday. It might as well be the techie-Trekkie kind.”
As if they counted. Alex kept that to himself, though. He didn’t want Xander thinking it was permission to do what he was saying.
* * *
Jason’s eyes had fallen back on the glasses. He idly twirled them in his hand by their stem. The dark glass – a hard plastic, actually – caught his reflection perfectly. In the while they’d spent waiting to make their move, he’d checked up on himself to see how bad he’d gotten.
Pretty bad. The cold sweat had left him but his eyes were wearier than he’d realized. They were half-lidded even though the effort it took to keep them that way had tricked him into believing he’d been making them bulge out. He didn’t seem to be able to stop chewing on his bottom lip, either. It made him look nervous and unsure of what to do, an image he’d been trying to avoid. Every twenty seconds, he had to stop his hand from rubbing over his face, just in case they thought he was trying to hide a yawn. He was tired enough without having to insist he wasn’t. It almost made him – except it really, really didn’t – want his lead to poke at his leg again. That’d snapped him awake. Sitting at the base of the hill, though... He wanted to sleep. The last chance he’d had was when Alexander had attacked him, and that wasn’t so much sleeping as it was forced nothingness.
Damn these senior Agents and their no-rest policy. They might have taken their time getting here, but it wasn’t as though they’d checked into a hotel for the night. Well, no point in thinking that was going to change anytime soon, not when they were ready to spring into action when one of the leads gave the order. After, he’d pass out whether they liked it or not. The thought of what she could do with in those few hours was immediately crushed by the more crippling fear of what his boss would say if this affected him like he felt it would. His mind was thick, his vision blurred at the edges, the seats of this car were still so comfy and all of that would add to him being sorely distracted when he got in there. His sole chance at reprieve was from facing off against his and only his target. First off, he knew what she could do, which beat the other man’s ‘look what I can kill you with’ box of tricks. Second, if she had his goggles, it didn’t matter if he was trudging through lava; he was going to get them back. He promised himself that. If she was swimming in his thoughts this second, he wanted her to know he was promising her, too.
‘Until then’. There was his dilemma in two miserable words. His head was drooping. He swung it up to a more respectable height. He did it as he breathed in, neatly killing two birds with one stone as he loudly gestured to his boredom. They wouldn’t care if he was entertained or not, but at least it’d remind them he was waiting for their signal.
She was too calm about this. Looking at the Agency building meant looking at her too, and she was as cool and collected as she’d ever been – maybe even more, now that she’d hammered out her orders about the report. Good to know she had it figured out. He wasn’t surprised. Everything had a role to play in her world. Their target’s part was obvious. He didn’t want ask what she expected him to be. He wasn’t sticking around long enough to find out.
“So – uh...” Who was that? Oh. That was his voice. Jason cleared his throat and forced himself to sound more alive. “It’s been five minutes.”
“Yes.”
Benoit said it flatly, like it wasn’t worth commenting on.
“... Exactly when did you plan –”
“When they are inside,” Flunky grunted. “Stop talking.”
‘Stop talking’. Like he was in charge.
“I’m just trying to make sure we don’t let them get too far ahead of us,” Jason said. “There’s a hundred places they could hide in there.”
“And there is only one out,” Flunky said. “Be quiet.”
“I want them away from the elevator,” Benoit said. “Far enough away to avoid seeing it shut down. I would rather them wander off thinking they had an exit and waste their time realizing they were trapped than know in advance.”
Okay, but they didn’t have to spend the whole time in the car. They could go up there and make sure their targets didn’t slip out through some back way instead of hoping they’d be able to see from here. Jason had the funniest feeling one of them was on the verge of calling out an hour for lunch. He didn’t doubt their dedication to their work – if Frenchie was only a quarter as determined to get Alexander as Jason’s lead, it was still ten times more than anything a normal person could feel – but... damn... After six years of nothing, the man had truly defined what it meant to be patient.
“Whatever you decide, I’ll work with it.”
It was the sole answer he could give that sounded halfway respectable. Benoit seemed approving enough. The Flunky just grunted again. He almost wanted to ask what his lead thought, but if she wanted him to know, she’d’ve said it already. So Jason went back to keeping his chin up and his breathing energetic. As long as no one blamed him for this, what did he care?
Last edited by Tartra on Mon Jan 10, 2011 3:15 pm; edited 1 time in total
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Thu Aug 26, 2010 3:30 pm
Gwen's blue eyes searched the hole above, her brow creased with worry even as she moved farther down and away from the floor of the warehouse. When she felt the body of the banshee fly through the air and land with a loud thump nearby on the platform, she blinked in the kid's direction with a renewed tension in her bones. In the half-light that grew as they descended, she could see the teenager roll over from his back onto his knees, even as she felt the aching pain in her side from where the banshee had landed. The disorientation of having been thrown and falling did not last long and the woman's mind was working back at regular flighty speed in a matter of seconds.
Her hair standing on end, Gwen stood still as a statue watching the other even as she scrabbled frightfully, reaching out for Alex's consciousness, a bit of relief easing in her shoulders when she realized the platform had respawned above and they were following after. Upon reaching the end of the line, she swayed slightly on her feet and the banshee flew past her into the wide open room and Gwen followed at a wary distance, keeping a mental eye on the teenager as she let her gaze wander over the new space. A few minutes later, she turned to regard Xander with a sheepish smile even as he tried to calm Alex down by looking in her direction, stifling a need to giggle as relief washed over Alex when he realized she was okay. She frowned however at Xander's comment, mentally reaching out to feel how sick he actually was - in light of what he normally tolerated as far as discomfort and pain she determined that he'd be alright before withdrawing her senses.
Almost immediately after, her attention was drawn to the banshee as she crouched upon the floor muttering over and over the words "Down there." In her mind, Gwen got a flash of the seemingly endless rows of bodies in green glowing water-filled tanks and she shivered even as she curiously felt the same reaction within the banshee. It was agonizing how much the woman inside the teenager's head did not want to be here and Gwen felt a wave of sympathy course through her. Along with it came the flash of the room she'd seen before where David woke up strapped to a bed and she knew immediately that it wasn't on this floor and that the banshee was indicating it was further down below them along with the tanks of bodies. Looking up she waited for the boys to stop arguing before Xander turned to her with the proposition that they split up.
All at once, she found herself torn. For one thing, she did not fully trust either the banshee or David and they both kind of freaked her out acting like wild-cards that could possibly threaten her. She did not want to leave Xander's side. But the way he presented the options to her, made her feel like he was expecting her to do so. Would he resent her if she said 'no' and insisted on going with him? Would he feel like she was useless for making him hold her hand through this? Finding herself faced with the realization that he wasn't always going to be there to save her just in the nick of time she figured there was no time like the present to start weening herself from her dependency on him. Besides, he seemed to have a habit of getting into trouble and a knack for getting out of it. He didn't need her to constantly be there to be another thing for him to worry about.
She felt warmed by Alex's continued protests and the fact that his general worry and anxiety was now including a concern for her safety, but she was also confident that she could handle this. After all she'd done for him so far, she was not going to let him down and force him to carry her weight and his own. Not when she had something to offer. And already Xander was backing away down the hallway, urging her to make the final decision.
"I'll be okay," she said a lot more tremulously than she wanted to, clearing her throat to make her voice come out more determined. Time to show some initiative and be strong. "I think I know what she wants - and it is a 'she'; it might be a boy's body, but the person inside is a woman right now - I mean, I think I know where she wants to go. This is where they were kept, so, with her knowledge of the terrain, I should be able to find my way." She didn't mention that she was going to try and find the room that David had told them about with her file and picture. Afterall, they were here for Xander, right?
She paused to give Alex a reassuring smile, pulsing at him a feeling of comfort. "Don't worry, I'll keep track of where you guys are. I'm like a walkie-talkie - if you find something just think it to me. Since I'm not going to jump every time you think of my name, the code word is "bravo". Try not to say or think of it unless you want to say something directly to me. And if I have any trouble, I'll just pulse back."
Turning to the teenager, she knelt in front of him and gingerly removed his hands from holding his head. “Down. There. Down. There. Down. There.”
"Stop, stop. Shhhh," she said softly, waiting for the banshee to jeer defensively in her direction knowing that she now at least had the woman's attention. "Listen, I'm going to find your body. You come with me and help, alright?"
The animal glare left the teenager's eyes and they cleared to an unsettling, ecstatic expression. "My body. My body. My body. My body." came the repetitious response. Gwen nodded in assent and stood, allowing the banshee to rise to her feet as well. The woman in the kid's body followed as Gwen walked down the hallway towards Xander, making it to the end where the two directions branched off. Then the kid started to move toward the left side, so Gwen moved to follow after her, turning back to smile and wink at Alex and Xander. "I'm not made of glass," she said, trying to appear confident, but her smile faded a bit early before she was turning down the left hallway.
Without looking back, and jogging lightly after the faster moving teenager, she pulsed to Alex,
I'll see you guys in ten.
before she fell silent and focused on the task at hand. There were doors lining either side of the hall, broken by large empty expanses of wall and she could feel people inside the rooms. But she did not stop to look at them, instead preferring to mostly follow the banshee who moved as if she knew where she was going. Reaching out, Gwen could sense that a lot of this was familiar to the woman, but as of yet, she could not determine an exact destination from her thoughts.
The moment came when they turned a corner further down and the banshee came to a skidded stop in front of a windowless door. It was positioned on the right side in the middle of the hall and the rest of the hallway continued on beyond it. The teenager leaned against the wall and looked at Gwen expectantly, tapping a finger in the direction of the keypad by the door. All of the doors thus far had been windowless with small, code-like signs on the wall beside them and keypads resting flush into the wall level with where a handle should be. But none of the doors had any handles and she suspected that they swung open automatically like the back door to the warehouse-thing upstairs.
"Find my body - codes - codes - codes - files - find my body - My body - My body - My body -" the banshee muttered in quick succession.
Reaching forward into the room mentally, Gwen sensed several men, mostly in early to late twenties, were working at a computer which covered one wall completely in a holographic screen and a few of them operated by typing in the air with special gloves. Looking at the banshee, the woman was muttering to herself about her body and Gwen bit her lip trying to think of a plan. She wanted to get into this room and onto that computer - it would be an easy way to access any files and information and since it was already in operation, she suspected she wouldn't need too many, if any, codes to get through Agency road blocks. But then there was the banshee. She could have let Xander know about it then and waited for him to arrive, but then she would be allowing him to do all of the work, and she still wanted to prove that she was at least somewhat capable of doing things on her own.
Turning fully to the teenager, Gwen said in a low voice, "Alright, listen, I need to get into this room and I need to find a way to get on the computer in there. But there's people in there and we gotta find a way to disable them without them setting off any alarms." She paused for a moment and then hesitantly asked, "Is David in there? Maybe he can help?"
The banshee glared harshly and her voice, which had been muttering the same phrase over and over again this whole time, grew in volume and almost angrily insistent. "My body! My body! My body--!"
Stifling the fear coursing through her, Gwen reached out and roughly grabbed the kid by the ear and jerked his head violently while pulsing inside his mind trying to mimic a tone of voice that Xander might use.
Annoying sound.
The banshee's eyes opened wide and blinked at the echoey voice inside her head and instantly shut up but she didn't fear Gwen, so she still threatened to make trouble. Well, it had been worth a try and when she'd left with the teenager she hadn't really planned how she was going to control the other person.
Look, I can't frigging find your body unless you be good and keep quiet, understand? So just shut the hell up or figure out a way to help me.
Roughly, Gwen released the kid's ear and shoved him away as she turned back to the door. Wiping sweat off her palm, she searched the codes from Jason's memories and zeroed in on one titled "DPASL" which she'd originally thought was code for something. Since the sign by the door identified this as the "Data Processing Archive System Lab", she was betting they were one and the same and stabbed the keys of the pad by the door.
Like the one for the back door, the keypad chirped in mechanical approval and the door swung open. Nobody immediately turned towards her - apparently somebody had just left a few minutes ago and they were expecting them to return; she'd have to keep that in mind - and quickly, she slipped the goggles off her head and shoved them into her back pocket, pushing her full, brunette locks onto her shoulders. As she stepped into the room lit up by a bright bluish light from the computer screen, the guy in front of the computer working on it the most saw her red shirt out of the corner of his eye and looked at her.
Melvin Willett quickly looked her up and down in her civilian clothes - as opposed to the drab lab coat and black and gray uniforms of the others in the room and the rest of the facility - and stepped forward with a scowl. "Who are you? How did you get in here?" Immediately, the other men in the room, who'd been going through information on the screen a mile a minute, stopped what they were doing and turned to the door as well. At first Gwen froze and frantically tried to come up with something that wouldn't immediately get her kicked out.
Remembering what Xander had said and already realizing that 4 of the 7 "men" were virgins still, she went with the first thing that popped in her head. "Whoooooaaaaa..." she said in a parody of amazement, her bright blue eyes blinking slow as she looked around the room. "Are you guys for real? Do you... work for the FBI? Are you looking for terrorists?" While she spoke, she made sure to smile prettily like she'd just stumbled onto the coolest thing in the world and couldn't be more impressed, her eyes sparkling with awe as she looked over each of the men. A few of them glanced at each other like they didn't know what to make of her - had they been caught? This had never happened before. Usually security stopped anybody from making it this far.
Melvin was a tight-ass though. "Listen, lady. You can't be in here. Trey, take her out of here. Everybody else, get back to work."
"Trey" was a 23 year old rookie with glasses and he hesitated, looking from Gwen to Melvin and back before finally stepping forward. Gwen brushed the hand that tried to grasp her elbow away with ease and walked past him to point at the gloves on Melvin's hands with a squeal of joy. "Those are some crazy gadgets! How do they work? Oh. My. Gosh! ... Are you guys secret agents?" She was holding Melvin's hand now and stopped her inspection of the gloves he was wearing to look at him knowingly, giggling in a flirty way. He wasn't buying it and jerked his hand from her grasp with an embarrassed glare.
"You have to leave now--!"
"So, tough, aren't you?" she asked, hooking a finger into the belt loop on her jeans, the weight of her hand hanging from them opening the gap between the hem of her already too short shirt and her waistband to show more flesh than was peeking through before. She cocked her head to the side a little and batted her eyes, her hair falling in wavy curls over her shoulders. "Issuing orders and all that - I bet you're somebody important aren't you?"
Probing his mind, she could feel him start to loosen even before his expression relaxed, knowing that a woman had never looked at him like this before. He'd taken this job at the Agency hoping to use his computer skills to do something important and cool - with an organization like the Agency, he'd imagined he would no longer be just a tech geek. He'd be a freaking AGENT. Girls were always falling all over the covert guys in the movies, even the tech-savvy guys got a girl interested in them sometimes. But since joining 4 years ago, he'd been greatly disappointed to realize that not only were there no hot women who would even look at him, but the hierarchy from the outside world was pretty much the same in here. He was as valuable as the information he had access to and was nothing more than a tool for filing and accessing data.
But here was this woman. Seemingly appearing out of nowhere, wandering off the city street no doubt, who just happened to arrive on a day when they didn't have security to bar the way. And not only that, but she was available and interested in him. It was like a gift from heaven. Straightening up and squaring his shoulders, he adopted a smug look on his face. "Actually, I'm head of this department. The Lead Computer Filing Systems Operator." He smiled as her eyes twinkled in amazement, and he lifted up the gloves that covered the first two fingers of each of his hands and thumbs in black nylon, with glowing holographic squares on all six of the fingertips. "As for these babies, how about you come over here and I'll show you what they can do."
"Mel..." one of the other guys spoke up warily, but instantly shut his mouth from the look that was cast his way. What was he worried about? She was just an innocent bimbo. She probably wouldn't understand half of what he said anyways. What harm could she do?
Walking over to the console that some of the guys had been sitting behind, the top of it was flat but reached just above her waist. She moved towards it like she wanted to sit down and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder for support, looking at him expectantly. He waited a moment, watching curiously, then blushed a little bit when he realized what she wanted him to do, reaching forward to lift her by the waist with both hands and setting her upon the top of the console. Her body felt so warm and light beneath his fingertips, even through the gloves, and he felt his whole body grow hot and cold as he released her and turned back to the large holographic screen, encouraged by her lovely smile.
Thinking that it was finally time to include Xander and Alex in some of this, she pulsed to him,
I found a big computer and someone to show me how to use it.
Although truthfully, she already knew how from probing the guy's memories. Now she was just looking for an opportunity to disable them all...which didn't seem to be presenting itself. She'd gotten in here, but if she made any move towards any of them it would alert the others. And they all had access to something that would set off alarms. Oh. Wait a second... Didn't they all say/think something about security not being anywhere in the building? Well, that made things considerably easier didn't it?
Also, P.S. I found a new boyfriend. Sorry. These techies are hawwwwwt.
She pulsed that to him just as Mel turned away from her and she waited for the two guys sitting at the console behind her to stare at her ass before jerking her hand out to karate chop Melvin on the back of the neck. He fell with only the slightest noise and she swung around on the top of the console, her legs flying out to catch the two behind her across the temples, letting them slump to the ground soundlessly. Her heart was thundering in her chest by the time she turned on the next two guys, surprise and inexperience rooting them in place helplessly as she punched the first one in the face, elbowed the second in the gut and swung her foot out to sweep the other off his feet. They weren't hurt too terribly bad but none of them wanted to get up, preferring to either play dead or just bleed helplessly until help arrived.
The other guys in the room however were a bit older than the rest and had a bit more training than the others, and it staved off a 'these guys like it rough' joke that she would have pulsed to Xander. She was on her guard as the one approached her with a determined look on his face, slender, wiry muscles rippling beneath his uniform and his glasses catching the blue light of the screen as he circled her. The other guy took the moment however to press a button and as a result, red lights began to flash somewhere in the ceiling and a bell-like alarm started to ring throughout the building. Well, shit. Hopefully Xander wasn't in the middle of something important and she'd just screwed it up or something.
As her new opponent charged towards her fluidly, Gwen blocked his attacks and stayed ahead of him effortlessly, moving across what empty space there was in the room to practically dance with him. Then she went instantly rigid as a familiar pulse began to grow overhead and she almost fell as he tried to trip her. She'd been so distracted and it had been so long since she'd felt it, she hadn't recognized it at first. That signature... The black hole was here. She could feel it, like a hungry emptiness somewhere above her head like it was just on the other side of the wall of metal and rock, burrowing and trying to break through. The guy was still trying to hit her in the face as she pulsed to Alex,
We've got company. Crazy woman and entourage have entered the building.
Annoyed with the man currently engaging her, she stopped defending and found an opening through which to smash her fist into his jaw, knocking him off his feet with an explosion of air.
I repeat. Stephanie and friends have arrived--
Her voice cut off as she was knocked off her feet by a swift kick from the fallen man to her shins. It was when the man rolled over on top of her, pinning her wrists to the ground and twisting her legs with his own that she knew she was in trouble.
She was busily awaiting the moment when they would strike when she found herself paying attention to her partner out of the corner of her eyes again. Every little gesture and facial expression was made note of and she felt a burst of concern over his condition. That was quickly followed by a rush of boiling hot anger - she was not going to care about him! He's a grown man and she'd already explained and threatened him with what would happen if he screwed this up or got in her way. They were seconds breath away from the time when they would strike and here he was, falling asleep!
Imperceptibly, she ground her teeth at the sound of his voice, feeling herself relax just a few notches when she realized he was just as eager to get this over with as she was. She tried not to think about how much alike they were and when he fell silent finally, she adjusted the breast of her suit before speaking in that intense monotone. "I agree. Everything hinges on things coming together at the right time and working seamlessly to better control the outcome. A little patience and waiting for the moments to appear is crucial for making it all work," she watched the building on the hill, even as she spoke to Jason, preferring not to look at him right now lest she have a break down of control like before. That was the last thing she needed right now.
"When we get in there, I want you to engage her first. She should be set off guard and disoriented by my presence, so it should level the playing field as far as her abilities go," she glanced at him then, letting her eyes wander over him as if sizing him up before coming to rest apathetically on his face again. "But I'm sure it's not an advantage you'll need." Even as emotionless as her tone was there was the hint of a sardonic jab in her voice. There was very little she expected him to be able to do on his own right now.
"You can wear her down for me and possibly even get your goggles back if you manage to incapacitate her," unlikely was the thing left unsaid but still plainly heard after her statements. "Either way, it'll give you the opportunity to be somewhat useful, rather than sending you off to a corner where you won't get hurt and you can just look pretty." She jerked her head back to the building then as a very low hum filled the air and she identified it as an alarm.
"It's time," she announced with just the slightest robotic fervor and quickly opened the car door and proceeded ahead of the others to the cloaked front doors, not bothering to wait for them. Putting her own entry code into the keypad, she breathed deeply as the double doors swung open, all of her internal blocks and walls going up rigidly, branching outward and forming a thick cloud of empty whitenoise around herself. She was here Gwen. And she was ready for a rematch.
Her hair standing on end, Gwen stood still as a statue watching the other even as she scrabbled frightfully, reaching out for Alex's consciousness, a bit of relief easing in her shoulders when she realized the platform had respawned above and they were following after. Upon reaching the end of the line, she swayed slightly on her feet and the banshee flew past her into the wide open room and Gwen followed at a wary distance, keeping a mental eye on the teenager as she let her gaze wander over the new space. A few minutes later, she turned to regard Xander with a sheepish smile even as he tried to calm Alex down by looking in her direction, stifling a need to giggle as relief washed over Alex when he realized she was okay. She frowned however at Xander's comment, mentally reaching out to feel how sick he actually was - in light of what he normally tolerated as far as discomfort and pain she determined that he'd be alright before withdrawing her senses.
Almost immediately after, her attention was drawn to the banshee as she crouched upon the floor muttering over and over the words "Down there." In her mind, Gwen got a flash of the seemingly endless rows of bodies in green glowing water-filled tanks and she shivered even as she curiously felt the same reaction within the banshee. It was agonizing how much the woman inside the teenager's head did not want to be here and Gwen felt a wave of sympathy course through her. Along with it came the flash of the room she'd seen before where David woke up strapped to a bed and she knew immediately that it wasn't on this floor and that the banshee was indicating it was further down below them along with the tanks of bodies. Looking up she waited for the boys to stop arguing before Xander turned to her with the proposition that they split up.
All at once, she found herself torn. For one thing, she did not fully trust either the banshee or David and they both kind of freaked her out acting like wild-cards that could possibly threaten her. She did not want to leave Xander's side. But the way he presented the options to her, made her feel like he was expecting her to do so. Would he resent her if she said 'no' and insisted on going with him? Would he feel like she was useless for making him hold her hand through this? Finding herself faced with the realization that he wasn't always going to be there to save her just in the nick of time she figured there was no time like the present to start weening herself from her dependency on him. Besides, he seemed to have a habit of getting into trouble and a knack for getting out of it. He didn't need her to constantly be there to be another thing for him to worry about.
She felt warmed by Alex's continued protests and the fact that his general worry and anxiety was now including a concern for her safety, but she was also confident that she could handle this. After all she'd done for him so far, she was not going to let him down and force him to carry her weight and his own. Not when she had something to offer. And already Xander was backing away down the hallway, urging her to make the final decision.
"I'll be okay," she said a lot more tremulously than she wanted to, clearing her throat to make her voice come out more determined. Time to show some initiative and be strong. "I think I know what she wants - and it is a 'she'; it might be a boy's body, but the person inside is a woman right now - I mean, I think I know where she wants to go. This is where they were kept, so, with her knowledge of the terrain, I should be able to find my way." She didn't mention that she was going to try and find the room that David had told them about with her file and picture. Afterall, they were here for Xander, right?
She paused to give Alex a reassuring smile, pulsing at him a feeling of comfort. "Don't worry, I'll keep track of where you guys are. I'm like a walkie-talkie - if you find something just think it to me. Since I'm not going to jump every time you think of my name, the code word is "bravo". Try not to say or think of it unless you want to say something directly to me. And if I have any trouble, I'll just pulse back."
Turning to the teenager, she knelt in front of him and gingerly removed his hands from holding his head. “Down. There. Down. There. Down. There.”
"Stop, stop. Shhhh," she said softly, waiting for the banshee to jeer defensively in her direction knowing that she now at least had the woman's attention. "Listen, I'm going to find your body. You come with me and help, alright?"
The animal glare left the teenager's eyes and they cleared to an unsettling, ecstatic expression. "My body. My body. My body. My body." came the repetitious response. Gwen nodded in assent and stood, allowing the banshee to rise to her feet as well. The woman in the kid's body followed as Gwen walked down the hallway towards Xander, making it to the end where the two directions branched off. Then the kid started to move toward the left side, so Gwen moved to follow after her, turning back to smile and wink at Alex and Xander. "I'm not made of glass," she said, trying to appear confident, but her smile faded a bit early before she was turning down the left hallway.
Without looking back, and jogging lightly after the faster moving teenager, she pulsed to Alex,
I'll see you guys in ten.
before she fell silent and focused on the task at hand. There were doors lining either side of the hall, broken by large empty expanses of wall and she could feel people inside the rooms. But she did not stop to look at them, instead preferring to mostly follow the banshee who moved as if she knew where she was going. Reaching out, Gwen could sense that a lot of this was familiar to the woman, but as of yet, she could not determine an exact destination from her thoughts.
The moment came when they turned a corner further down and the banshee came to a skidded stop in front of a windowless door. It was positioned on the right side in the middle of the hall and the rest of the hallway continued on beyond it. The teenager leaned against the wall and looked at Gwen expectantly, tapping a finger in the direction of the keypad by the door. All of the doors thus far had been windowless with small, code-like signs on the wall beside them and keypads resting flush into the wall level with where a handle should be. But none of the doors had any handles and she suspected that they swung open automatically like the back door to the warehouse-thing upstairs.
"Find my body - codes - codes - codes - files - find my body - My body - My body - My body -" the banshee muttered in quick succession.
Reaching forward into the room mentally, Gwen sensed several men, mostly in early to late twenties, were working at a computer which covered one wall completely in a holographic screen and a few of them operated by typing in the air with special gloves. Looking at the banshee, the woman was muttering to herself about her body and Gwen bit her lip trying to think of a plan. She wanted to get into this room and onto that computer - it would be an easy way to access any files and information and since it was already in operation, she suspected she wouldn't need too many, if any, codes to get through Agency road blocks. But then there was the banshee. She could have let Xander know about it then and waited for him to arrive, but then she would be allowing him to do all of the work, and she still wanted to prove that she was at least somewhat capable of doing things on her own.
Turning fully to the teenager, Gwen said in a low voice, "Alright, listen, I need to get into this room and I need to find a way to get on the computer in there. But there's people in there and we gotta find a way to disable them without them setting off any alarms." She paused for a moment and then hesitantly asked, "Is David in there? Maybe he can help?"
The banshee glared harshly and her voice, which had been muttering the same phrase over and over again this whole time, grew in volume and almost angrily insistent. "My body! My body! My body--!"
Stifling the fear coursing through her, Gwen reached out and roughly grabbed the kid by the ear and jerked his head violently while pulsing inside his mind trying to mimic a tone of voice that Xander might use.
Annoying sound.
The banshee's eyes opened wide and blinked at the echoey voice inside her head and instantly shut up but she didn't fear Gwen, so she still threatened to make trouble. Well, it had been worth a try and when she'd left with the teenager she hadn't really planned how she was going to control the other person.
Look, I can't frigging find your body unless you be good and keep quiet, understand? So just shut the hell up or figure out a way to help me.
Roughly, Gwen released the kid's ear and shoved him away as she turned back to the door. Wiping sweat off her palm, she searched the codes from Jason's memories and zeroed in on one titled "DPASL" which she'd originally thought was code for something. Since the sign by the door identified this as the "Data Processing Archive System Lab", she was betting they were one and the same and stabbed the keys of the pad by the door.
Like the one for the back door, the keypad chirped in mechanical approval and the door swung open. Nobody immediately turned towards her - apparently somebody had just left a few minutes ago and they were expecting them to return; she'd have to keep that in mind - and quickly, she slipped the goggles off her head and shoved them into her back pocket, pushing her full, brunette locks onto her shoulders. As she stepped into the room lit up by a bright bluish light from the computer screen, the guy in front of the computer working on it the most saw her red shirt out of the corner of his eye and looked at her.
Melvin Willett quickly looked her up and down in her civilian clothes - as opposed to the drab lab coat and black and gray uniforms of the others in the room and the rest of the facility - and stepped forward with a scowl. "Who are you? How did you get in here?" Immediately, the other men in the room, who'd been going through information on the screen a mile a minute, stopped what they were doing and turned to the door as well. At first Gwen froze and frantically tried to come up with something that wouldn't immediately get her kicked out.
Remembering what Xander had said and already realizing that 4 of the 7 "men" were virgins still, she went with the first thing that popped in her head. "Whoooooaaaaa..." she said in a parody of amazement, her bright blue eyes blinking slow as she looked around the room. "Are you guys for real? Do you... work for the FBI? Are you looking for terrorists?" While she spoke, she made sure to smile prettily like she'd just stumbled onto the coolest thing in the world and couldn't be more impressed, her eyes sparkling with awe as she looked over each of the men. A few of them glanced at each other like they didn't know what to make of her - had they been caught? This had never happened before. Usually security stopped anybody from making it this far.
Melvin was a tight-ass though. "Listen, lady. You can't be in here. Trey, take her out of here. Everybody else, get back to work."
"Trey" was a 23 year old rookie with glasses and he hesitated, looking from Gwen to Melvin and back before finally stepping forward. Gwen brushed the hand that tried to grasp her elbow away with ease and walked past him to point at the gloves on Melvin's hands with a squeal of joy. "Those are some crazy gadgets! How do they work? Oh. My. Gosh! ... Are you guys secret agents?" She was holding Melvin's hand now and stopped her inspection of the gloves he was wearing to look at him knowingly, giggling in a flirty way. He wasn't buying it and jerked his hand from her grasp with an embarrassed glare.
"You have to leave now--!"
"So, tough, aren't you?" she asked, hooking a finger into the belt loop on her jeans, the weight of her hand hanging from them opening the gap between the hem of her already too short shirt and her waistband to show more flesh than was peeking through before. She cocked her head to the side a little and batted her eyes, her hair falling in wavy curls over her shoulders. "Issuing orders and all that - I bet you're somebody important aren't you?"
Probing his mind, she could feel him start to loosen even before his expression relaxed, knowing that a woman had never looked at him like this before. He'd taken this job at the Agency hoping to use his computer skills to do something important and cool - with an organization like the Agency, he'd imagined he would no longer be just a tech geek. He'd be a freaking AGENT. Girls were always falling all over the covert guys in the movies, even the tech-savvy guys got a girl interested in them sometimes. But since joining 4 years ago, he'd been greatly disappointed to realize that not only were there no hot women who would even look at him, but the hierarchy from the outside world was pretty much the same in here. He was as valuable as the information he had access to and was nothing more than a tool for filing and accessing data.
But here was this woman. Seemingly appearing out of nowhere, wandering off the city street no doubt, who just happened to arrive on a day when they didn't have security to bar the way. And not only that, but she was available and interested in him. It was like a gift from heaven. Straightening up and squaring his shoulders, he adopted a smug look on his face. "Actually, I'm head of this department. The Lead Computer Filing Systems Operator." He smiled as her eyes twinkled in amazement, and he lifted up the gloves that covered the first two fingers of each of his hands and thumbs in black nylon, with glowing holographic squares on all six of the fingertips. "As for these babies, how about you come over here and I'll show you what they can do."
"Mel..." one of the other guys spoke up warily, but instantly shut his mouth from the look that was cast his way. What was he worried about? She was just an innocent bimbo. She probably wouldn't understand half of what he said anyways. What harm could she do?
Walking over to the console that some of the guys had been sitting behind, the top of it was flat but reached just above her waist. She moved towards it like she wanted to sit down and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder for support, looking at him expectantly. He waited a moment, watching curiously, then blushed a little bit when he realized what she wanted him to do, reaching forward to lift her by the waist with both hands and setting her upon the top of the console. Her body felt so warm and light beneath his fingertips, even through the gloves, and he felt his whole body grow hot and cold as he released her and turned back to the large holographic screen, encouraged by her lovely smile.
Thinking that it was finally time to include Xander and Alex in some of this, she pulsed to him,
I found a big computer and someone to show me how to use it.
Although truthfully, she already knew how from probing the guy's memories. Now she was just looking for an opportunity to disable them all...which didn't seem to be presenting itself. She'd gotten in here, but if she made any move towards any of them it would alert the others. And they all had access to something that would set off alarms. Oh. Wait a second... Didn't they all say/think something about security not being anywhere in the building? Well, that made things considerably easier didn't it?
Also, P.S. I found a new boyfriend. Sorry. These techies are hawwwwwt.
She pulsed that to him just as Mel turned away from her and she waited for the two guys sitting at the console behind her to stare at her ass before jerking her hand out to karate chop Melvin on the back of the neck. He fell with only the slightest noise and she swung around on the top of the console, her legs flying out to catch the two behind her across the temples, letting them slump to the ground soundlessly. Her heart was thundering in her chest by the time she turned on the next two guys, surprise and inexperience rooting them in place helplessly as she punched the first one in the face, elbowed the second in the gut and swung her foot out to sweep the other off his feet. They weren't hurt too terribly bad but none of them wanted to get up, preferring to either play dead or just bleed helplessly until help arrived.
The other guys in the room however were a bit older than the rest and had a bit more training than the others, and it staved off a 'these guys like it rough' joke that she would have pulsed to Xander. She was on her guard as the one approached her with a determined look on his face, slender, wiry muscles rippling beneath his uniform and his glasses catching the blue light of the screen as he circled her. The other guy took the moment however to press a button and as a result, red lights began to flash somewhere in the ceiling and a bell-like alarm started to ring throughout the building. Well, shit. Hopefully Xander wasn't in the middle of something important and she'd just screwed it up or something.
As her new opponent charged towards her fluidly, Gwen blocked his attacks and stayed ahead of him effortlessly, moving across what empty space there was in the room to practically dance with him. Then she went instantly rigid as a familiar pulse began to grow overhead and she almost fell as he tried to trip her. She'd been so distracted and it had been so long since she'd felt it, she hadn't recognized it at first. That signature... The black hole was here. She could feel it, like a hungry emptiness somewhere above her head like it was just on the other side of the wall of metal and rock, burrowing and trying to break through. The guy was still trying to hit her in the face as she pulsed to Alex,
We've got company. Crazy woman and entourage have entered the building.
Annoyed with the man currently engaging her, she stopped defending and found an opening through which to smash her fist into his jaw, knocking him off his feet with an explosion of air.
I repeat. Stephanie and friends have arrived--
Her voice cut off as she was knocked off her feet by a swift kick from the fallen man to her shins. It was when the man rolled over on top of her, pinning her wrists to the ground and twisting her legs with his own that she knew she was in trouble.
****
She was busily awaiting the moment when they would strike when she found herself paying attention to her partner out of the corner of her eyes again. Every little gesture and facial expression was made note of and she felt a burst of concern over his condition. That was quickly followed by a rush of boiling hot anger - she was not going to care about him! He's a grown man and she'd already explained and threatened him with what would happen if he screwed this up or got in her way. They were seconds breath away from the time when they would strike and here he was, falling asleep!
Imperceptibly, she ground her teeth at the sound of his voice, feeling herself relax just a few notches when she realized he was just as eager to get this over with as she was. She tried not to think about how much alike they were and when he fell silent finally, she adjusted the breast of her suit before speaking in that intense monotone. "I agree. Everything hinges on things coming together at the right time and working seamlessly to better control the outcome. A little patience and waiting for the moments to appear is crucial for making it all work," she watched the building on the hill, even as she spoke to Jason, preferring not to look at him right now lest she have a break down of control like before. That was the last thing she needed right now.
"When we get in there, I want you to engage her first. She should be set off guard and disoriented by my presence, so it should level the playing field as far as her abilities go," she glanced at him then, letting her eyes wander over him as if sizing him up before coming to rest apathetically on his face again. "But I'm sure it's not an advantage you'll need." Even as emotionless as her tone was there was the hint of a sardonic jab in her voice. There was very little she expected him to be able to do on his own right now.
"You can wear her down for me and possibly even get your goggles back if you manage to incapacitate her," unlikely was the thing left unsaid but still plainly heard after her statements. "Either way, it'll give you the opportunity to be somewhat useful, rather than sending you off to a corner where you won't get hurt and you can just look pretty." She jerked her head back to the building then as a very low hum filled the air and she identified it as an alarm.
"It's time," she announced with just the slightest robotic fervor and quickly opened the car door and proceeded ahead of the others to the cloaked front doors, not bothering to wait for them. Putting her own entry code into the keypad, she breathed deeply as the double doors swung open, all of her internal blocks and walls going up rigidly, branching outward and forming a thick cloud of empty whitenoise around herself. She was here Gwen. And she was ready for a rematch.
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Sun Aug 29, 2010 12:33 am
“No noise – no noise – no noise – no noise – no noise –”
Then shut up, y’crazy bitch! Get movin’, get to work! The very least you could do is keep those shady pricks away from us.
Noise, noise, noise, all around her, in her head, in her mind –
And I meant ‘do it now’, mate! Move! You're bloody useless!
Make it stop, make it stop, no more noise, too much, too much too much too much
Clicking. She heard clicking. She heard clicking in her head. He was making it, he always made that sound when he wanted her to move and she hated it, hated it, hated him –
She moved. She did what he said. Screens glowing – she didn’t know what they did. They were important. How? She didn’t know. She never knew. He never explained it because he thought she knew. She looked around. On the ground, someone else was lying there. She didn’t know who he was. The clicking didn’t let her care. She knew what his on his hands. She reached down and pulled them off and put them on her hers. Too big. Two of her fingers weren’t covered. She didn’t like that. She didn’t like it at all. The clicking got louder and then it got worse. She stopped caring about her fingers and went to work.
The screen was blue. It was shining. She didn’t remember what it meant but her hands knew. Only they weren’t her hands anymore. Nathan... Nathan. Nathan. Nathaniel. Natalie. Natasha. She didn’t know whose they were. They still worked like magic.
There y’go. Good girl. Let’s be quick, yeah? And then let me out. I don’t trust you farther’n I can throw you.
No one did. No one ever did. There’d been three before. Him, her, someone else, all three of them in the same head. The others weren’t talking. He said they were dead. That meant the third voice had died. Now she was alone with him and this wasn’t her body.
Done. It was done.
There now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?
Yes, it had been hard. She didn’t understand anything –
I know, I know, you’re confused ‘n’ dazed ‘n’ the world’s so big on the outside, he said. Sometimes I still think you’re one of ‘em, just goin’ by the way you take so long to do the simplest things. Conveniently, all the simplest things are exactly what we need to stay away from those creeps.
The lights were blue. The lights were white. No more red. It was done. The noise was gone.
Now if I have t’tell you again, you psycho, I’m not goin' to be happy. I’ll use one o' those powers you’re so crazy for.
The sleeping one. He never stopped trying to use it. He didn’t want to kill her because he thought she was useful, so he picked the power that made people fall asleep. He couldn’t use it. Just like she couldn’t get any of the others to work, he couldn’t do it, either. It made her feel less hopeless, knowing she wasn’t the only one who was lost.
“Done – I’m done – I’m done – I’m done –”
I can hear you, he snapped. Would y’move?
She’d pushed him back before. She could take over this body whenever she pleased, but that meant using energy she didn’t always have. She was smart. She knew what was happening. If anyone was wasting away, it wasn’t her. So she moved.
“That’s more like it,” he said. “Well then! What’s this place?”
Hurt – hurt – hurt – hurt – hurt –
He was dangerous. He was very dangerous. He had no control over his powers. If he attacked, this man would not have a head. He needed a head. He needed a head to breathe. She couldn’t let this man die even if the man was attacking Gwendolyn Stewart, number twenty-eight of forty pending, awaiting capture and then transfer and she couldn’t believe Gwendolyn Stewart was still alive.
He did not use his powers. The man’s head did not explode. He dragged the man off of Gwendolyn Stewart and gave him a few punches. He was not that strong. The man attacking was weak. He knocked the man unconscious very quickly, then he reached out a hand to help Gwendolyn Stewart to her feet.
“Not exactly a trade-up, is it? I think I’d’ve preferred t’stay at that hotel.”
He looked around. He was doing it wrong. He didn’t know what to look for. Gwendolyn Stewart didn’t know. They were both untrained and defenceless and she, with her poor head, could only do so much.
Get out, she pleaded. Get out – get out – get – out – get – out –
“For once, I agree,” he said. “Well, Gwennie? S’bout time we were off. Let’s get your little boyfriend – or leave ‘im, I don’t care. If he’s got no powers, the worst that could happen's a fine or some jail time. Or a bullet through the brain, one of the three. Shall we?”
Her body. Her body, her body, her body – she had to find it. If they were here, they had to try, they had to at least try and find it...
“Quit your whining. We’ll get back to our old selves when we’ve got a plan,” he said. “I’ve no idea where you’ve taken me. S’up to you to get me out, at least until I can get the banshee’s power working.”
No. No, she wasn’t doing this again. One shot. She only had one shot at this. She couldn’t take anymore than that. This had to happen now.
Find it! Find it, find it, find it, find it, find it –
“We don’t have time f’this! We don’t have a clue what’s goin’ on and other Agents – real Agents – could be on their way here any minute,” he said. “I’m not staying. I’ll find my body some other day.”
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO –
“Gwen, if y’don’t mind, can you do whateva th’ hell you did back at the hotel? It shut her up quite nicely."
He meant it. She stopped talking. It wasn’t as though anyone listened, anyway.
In a word, things were going... decently. Xander was perky, the halls were clear, he seemed to have a very clear idea of where he was supposed to go... but they were in an Agency lab and that killed the moment entirely. He wasn’t ‘comfortable’ here, as far as that went to have meaning. This place was cold and the air seemed dead. At any moment, Alex realized the entire place could go up in alarms and guns could pop from the walls or the lab would get flooded in some ridiculous fire that killed everyone who wasn’t an Agent. But at least Gwen sounded like she was okay. A big computer? It sounded promising. The ‘someone to show me’ part, though... So there were people down here after all.
“The computer geek’s hot, huh? That’s nice,” Xander said, completely forgetting the codeword even though Alex was sure the guy was talking to her. “I can steer a submarine, you know. And scale this building in twenty seconds. Not bragging, just pointing it out.”
There is no reason for you to be able to fly a jet and steer a submarine.
“That’s what I thought, until Mr. I Can Fly took us to Miss. I Can Hold My Breath for Twelve Days. What a pain in the ass that was.”
Alex was glad Xander could look so fondly upon his memories of catching and dragging super-powered innocents to their grave. A question started nagging at him as the black and blue corridor branched off for the fourth time.
Why did you become an Agent?
“It was that or an accountant. This paid better.” Lights started flashing. A furious, ringing alarm pounded through probably the entire building. There was a small crevice between two terminals facing a desk and lamp someone had set up in the middle of the hall. There was no way Alex would’ve fit, but Xander reached a hand in and shoved at them until it was wide enough to squeeze into. Instants later, harsh footsteps began to echo towards them, followed by an army of shadows whipping past. “Gwen made friends. Or else the banshee did.”
Bravo, Alex called out, feeling a bit foolish saying it. Gwen! What’s going on? Xander – wait! She might be in trouble!
“Relax. She’ll call if she needs us.” The last footstep had barely faded before he was walking again, noticeably more energetic than before. “Transfers... Transfers... Transfers... Do you see any signs anywhere?”
You’re normally the one to find them. Alex was straining to hear anything from her end. Has she said anything yet?
“She’s fine. Stay focused.” And then Gwen sent her warning. “Don’t get panicky. We’ve got... a little under five minutes.”
We’re not going to get anything done in five minutes! Gwen said it again: the Agents – the ones they were trying to avoid – were on their way. Not to mention that there’s now an alarm ringing to get everyone else in gear!
“Uh-huh.” He’d found someone. Another lab guy? It had to be. Xander damn near skipped over to him and the labbie – an older man in his fifties, maybe – looked surprised at first, then horrified. He must’ve put a purpose behind the alarm, and Alex’s shining smile as Xander put it into overdrive froze the man in his spot. “Hi! I’m looking for the transfer room? The name might’ve changed, but I’m here for the bodies.”
The labbie pointed.
That’s not going to take us very far.
Xander agreed. He put a hand on the back of the labbie’s neck and steered him in the direction that’d just been pointed out, telling him, “I’m going to need you to be a little more specific. Come on with us – I don’t bite.”
He’d be better off if you bit.
“We have our full security on alert,” the labbie croaked out. “You can’t really think you’ll be leaving.”
“Ohhhh, you crazy kids,” Xander said. “You always say it, and then I always break six necks and skedaddle. I would’ve hoped you’d learned by now.” He shoved the labbie forward. “Start walking. I’m in a rush.”
He’s co-operating, Alex said, mildly shocked. And he’s not running.
“Yeah, it’s standard procedure for the bitch-boys to curl up in a fetal position. It cuts down on the blood trails from when they feebly crawl away. Plus, it’s good cardio for anyone jumping over them.”
They barely had to walk at all. Why couldn’t they’ve found this place on their own? Another tall door stood in front of them, remarkably more solid than any of the others they’d passed. The walls around it were the same as before, but there were no windows for people to peek in through, and that made it seem much more deliberate. Whatever was in there, no one, not even the other Agency personnel, was supposed to bother it. The rest of windowless lab just seemed like someone being lazy.
“You have what you want,” the labbie said, sounding indignant and scandalized. “Go in, if that’s what you want.”
“Great! I’m gonna need your face.”
Retinal scanner. Xander grabbed the labbie’s skull and pulled him in front of red panel. It lit up and a bar of sharper red light scrolled from the struggling hairline to the thin and fragile chin. The labbie was released after and he stood up, offended, straightening his coat with two pulls on either side. Alex felt the man had taken this very well, and he was even polite enough to tell them, “The light switch is on your left. Try not to break anything, you neanderthal.”
Nice guy, he said. He’s going straight for security, you know.
“I’ll bet.” The room was dark, as was every other room they’d walked into. The sound of Alex’s shoes on the floor changed into something distinctly metallic. They were on a rafter of some kind. Through the very, very small light from the hall behind him, Alex could tell that it went on for a while. “Let’s see; on our left...”
That’s your right.
“Oh.”
Click.
The horror show began.
More rows than Alex would’ve ever guessed, longer than he tried to realize, spread out like a sea in front of him. Or like a field or a harvest made of thick, green, glowing jars, stuck upright and connected to whatever ceiling lurking in the shadows by twisted cords and wires, each of them bigger than his leg. He didn’t know why it caught his attention, but a few jars – two dozen, maybe – were filled with yellow. That took a backseat to the more ominous decoration of the enormous sign hanging in the air: FAILURES.
Are you... are you in there?
“That’d be fun, huh? But no. Not here.”
Two minutes left.
Why would they keep all of these? Are those all Agents?
“Bit of both.”
But... why?
He was horrified. It was like these people were being preserved. No - it was like they were being kept so they could get dissected. Whatever sick fantasy these people were parading around as the ‘greater good’ by doing this, there was no way any of them could be convinced that this... farm was something other than a maniac’s wet dream. Despite himself, he tried to imagine a smell that went along with it. He pictured it as something sour and disease-ridden, the kind of depressing odour that stuck in the back of a throat and coated it with slime. He was glad he couldn’t see any faces from this angle. This was enough of a nightmare on its own. If it wasn’t for his body being told to move again, he wouldn’t have been able to stop staring. Then again, it took Xander a minute to stop looking, too.
Thousands. There were thousands of them. His mind couldn’t... How had this been hidden for so long?
“This must be the national lab,” Xander muttered. “They wouldn’t keep so many here otherwise.”
But with no protection? As if Alex wanted to give the Agency some tips! There’s hardly anyone around here! We might as well’ve gotten a tour.
“Who knows? Maybe they’re on break.”
Or it’s a set up.
“I really don’t care.” That was for sure. “So as long as I get my body back, that horse can keep its damn mouth shut.”
Huh?
“‘Never look a gift-horse in the mouth’?” Alex didn’t get it. “Read a book – geez.”
He was taking them to a smaller door, one that slid open soundlessly when he approached. Alex had just enough time to notice the tiny sign at the top: a sleek, white and modest SUCCESSES. There were fourteen jars in this room, which was tiled in a bright white and looked more like an insane asylum than a science lab. The glare off the surface stung his eyes, even without eyes to sting. Shiny nametags adorned the base of each one and streams of bubbles shot up through the green ooze. Six were women, the rest were men, and all of them were at different ages. One man had grey hair, while another little girl barely looked like she was in her teens. They’d been stripped and held in place at the centre of the tube by two body-clamps, delicately placed over each one’s chest and groin. That was as mixed as messages got: we’ll steal your soul and put our Agents in your body, but we’ll be damned before we let your dangly bits roam loose in our jugs of Jell-o. It was funny, in an immensely sadistic kind of way.
One of tags said ‘David Alistair’. Alex knew what this group was.
These are the people inside that kid...
“Yeah.”
What do they need to keep them for? They have what they wanted, he said.
“Uh-huh.”
Is there something else? Do they have another step for this?
What was the point of keeping the bodies around if the process had worked? It was like an invitation for the victims to take their lives back, which would’ve been great if the Agency didn’t stand for exactly the opposite of that. Maybe they were souvenirs. He wouldn’t put it past them.
Xander was pacing irritably. He didn’t wait to be asked what was wrong.
“Gwen said I’m still considered a success. I should be in this room.”
But you’re not?
“Nope.”
He knew that voice.
... So... This was a waste.
“Looks like. Big ol’ waste of time. Wasted effort.”
Okay. So... Next, where are we –
“Gwen!” No codeword. “Start moving. Meet me back at the elevator. Drag the kid as fast as you can.”
Alex laughed. It withered away in disgrace when he noticed Xander was serious.
You’re giving up? You didn’t even look around, he said. We’re in their headquarters. There’s got to be something around here that’ll tell us where you are.
“Except we don’t have time 'cause there’s Agents on the way,” Xander said. “Forget it. Dumb idea. We’ll figure something else out later.”
What do you mean ‘later’?
“‘Later’ as in ‘not now’. Let’s go.”
He started walking back across the rafter, not bothering to glance at the body swamp as if he thought it was boring. He wrenched the door open harder than it needed to be and stalked into the empty hall, immediately turning back to the way they came.
What about you collapsing? A spark of fire jumped into Alex’s voice. What about me not having control of my body? No. No way. Not happening. Xander was in his awe-inspiring mix of seething fury and self-pity he was oh-so-famous for and beginning to crawl into his little box so he didn’t have to deal with anyone – at least until he found someone’s head to cave in. But even if there was no real security, which Alex still said was an obvious trap, coming in here was suicide mission, not a joyride. They weren’t leaving until they got what they needed, because in case a certain someone wanted to gloss over the fact, Xander, according to David, was dying. With his luck, Alex would die, too. He wasn’t going to let that happen. Go into another room. Find someone. Make them talk.
“You watch too many movies.”
You don’t let me watch movies, Alex snapped. Move your ass and figure this out!
“This is a big lab,” Xander said. “It’s going to take longer than twenty seconds –”
Then work with what you have!
This was exactly the kind of shit he needed to deal with in middle this other crap. As Xander decided to fully block everyone out, Alex just wished he could’ve sent a warning to Gwen. She might’ve picked up the guy’s seconds-away-from-explosive-everything-dies-rage from his voice, but if she didn’t, she’d figure it out fast. It wasn’t like it was going to be hard to miss. The problem was whether it’d be before or after Xander went insane and broke someone in two. What’d she say? That the Frenchmen and the two chasing her were coming? Well, maybe they could focus his tantrum if they couldn’t stop it.
What a baby. As if he was the only one not in the right skin.
Then shut up, y’crazy bitch! Get movin’, get to work! The very least you could do is keep those shady pricks away from us.
Noise, noise, noise, all around her, in her head, in her mind –
And I meant ‘do it now’, mate! Move! You're bloody useless!
Make it stop, make it stop, no more noise, too much, too much too much too much
Clicking. She heard clicking. She heard clicking in her head. He was making it, he always made that sound when he wanted her to move and she hated it, hated it, hated him –
She moved. She did what he said. Screens glowing – she didn’t know what they did. They were important. How? She didn’t know. She never knew. He never explained it because he thought she knew. She looked around. On the ground, someone else was lying there. She didn’t know who he was. The clicking didn’t let her care. She knew what his on his hands. She reached down and pulled them off and put them on her hers. Too big. Two of her fingers weren’t covered. She didn’t like that. She didn’t like it at all. The clicking got louder and then it got worse. She stopped caring about her fingers and went to work.
The screen was blue. It was shining. She didn’t remember what it meant but her hands knew. Only they weren’t her hands anymore. Nathan... Nathan. Nathan. Nathaniel. Natalie. Natasha. She didn’t know whose they were. They still worked like magic.
There y’go. Good girl. Let’s be quick, yeah? And then let me out. I don’t trust you farther’n I can throw you.
No one did. No one ever did. There’d been three before. Him, her, someone else, all three of them in the same head. The others weren’t talking. He said they were dead. That meant the third voice had died. Now she was alone with him and this wasn’t her body.
Done. It was done.
There now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?
Yes, it had been hard. She didn’t understand anything –
I know, I know, you’re confused ‘n’ dazed ‘n’ the world’s so big on the outside, he said. Sometimes I still think you’re one of ‘em, just goin’ by the way you take so long to do the simplest things. Conveniently, all the simplest things are exactly what we need to stay away from those creeps.
The lights were blue. The lights were white. No more red. It was done. The noise was gone.
Now if I have t’tell you again, you psycho, I’m not goin' to be happy. I’ll use one o' those powers you’re so crazy for.
The sleeping one. He never stopped trying to use it. He didn’t want to kill her because he thought she was useful, so he picked the power that made people fall asleep. He couldn’t use it. Just like she couldn’t get any of the others to work, he couldn’t do it, either. It made her feel less hopeless, knowing she wasn’t the only one who was lost.
“Done – I’m done – I’m done – I’m done –”
I can hear you, he snapped. Would y’move?
She’d pushed him back before. She could take over this body whenever she pleased, but that meant using energy she didn’t always have. She was smart. She knew what was happening. If anyone was wasting away, it wasn’t her. So she moved.
“That’s more like it,” he said. “Well then! What’s this place?”
Hurt – hurt – hurt – hurt – hurt –
He was dangerous. He was very dangerous. He had no control over his powers. If he attacked, this man would not have a head. He needed a head. He needed a head to breathe. She couldn’t let this man die even if the man was attacking Gwendolyn Stewart, number twenty-eight of forty pending, awaiting capture and then transfer and she couldn’t believe Gwendolyn Stewart was still alive.
He did not use his powers. The man’s head did not explode. He dragged the man off of Gwendolyn Stewart and gave him a few punches. He was not that strong. The man attacking was weak. He knocked the man unconscious very quickly, then he reached out a hand to help Gwendolyn Stewart to her feet.
“Not exactly a trade-up, is it? I think I’d’ve preferred t’stay at that hotel.”
He looked around. He was doing it wrong. He didn’t know what to look for. Gwendolyn Stewart didn’t know. They were both untrained and defenceless and she, with her poor head, could only do so much.
Get out, she pleaded. Get out – get out – get – out – get – out –
“For once, I agree,” he said. “Well, Gwennie? S’bout time we were off. Let’s get your little boyfriend – or leave ‘im, I don’t care. If he’s got no powers, the worst that could happen's a fine or some jail time. Or a bullet through the brain, one of the three. Shall we?”
Her body. Her body, her body, her body – she had to find it. If they were here, they had to try, they had to at least try and find it...
“Quit your whining. We’ll get back to our old selves when we’ve got a plan,” he said. “I’ve no idea where you’ve taken me. S’up to you to get me out, at least until I can get the banshee’s power working.”
No. No, she wasn’t doing this again. One shot. She only had one shot at this. She couldn’t take anymore than that. This had to happen now.
Find it! Find it, find it, find it, find it, find it –
“We don’t have time f’this! We don’t have a clue what’s goin’ on and other Agents – real Agents – could be on their way here any minute,” he said. “I’m not staying. I’ll find my body some other day.”
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO –
“Gwen, if y’don’t mind, can you do whateva th’ hell you did back at the hotel? It shut her up quite nicely."
He meant it. She stopped talking. It wasn’t as though anyone listened, anyway.
* * *
In a word, things were going... decently. Xander was perky, the halls were clear, he seemed to have a very clear idea of where he was supposed to go... but they were in an Agency lab and that killed the moment entirely. He wasn’t ‘comfortable’ here, as far as that went to have meaning. This place was cold and the air seemed dead. At any moment, Alex realized the entire place could go up in alarms and guns could pop from the walls or the lab would get flooded in some ridiculous fire that killed everyone who wasn’t an Agent. But at least Gwen sounded like she was okay. A big computer? It sounded promising. The ‘someone to show me’ part, though... So there were people down here after all.
“The computer geek’s hot, huh? That’s nice,” Xander said, completely forgetting the codeword even though Alex was sure the guy was talking to her. “I can steer a submarine, you know. And scale this building in twenty seconds. Not bragging, just pointing it out.”
There is no reason for you to be able to fly a jet and steer a submarine.
“That’s what I thought, until Mr. I Can Fly took us to Miss. I Can Hold My Breath for Twelve Days. What a pain in the ass that was.”
Alex was glad Xander could look so fondly upon his memories of catching and dragging super-powered innocents to their grave. A question started nagging at him as the black and blue corridor branched off for the fourth time.
Why did you become an Agent?
“It was that or an accountant. This paid better.” Lights started flashing. A furious, ringing alarm pounded through probably the entire building. There was a small crevice between two terminals facing a desk and lamp someone had set up in the middle of the hall. There was no way Alex would’ve fit, but Xander reached a hand in and shoved at them until it was wide enough to squeeze into. Instants later, harsh footsteps began to echo towards them, followed by an army of shadows whipping past. “Gwen made friends. Or else the banshee did.”
Bravo, Alex called out, feeling a bit foolish saying it. Gwen! What’s going on? Xander – wait! She might be in trouble!
“Relax. She’ll call if she needs us.” The last footstep had barely faded before he was walking again, noticeably more energetic than before. “Transfers... Transfers... Transfers... Do you see any signs anywhere?”
You’re normally the one to find them. Alex was straining to hear anything from her end. Has she said anything yet?
“She’s fine. Stay focused.” And then Gwen sent her warning. “Don’t get panicky. We’ve got... a little under five minutes.”
We’re not going to get anything done in five minutes! Gwen said it again: the Agents – the ones they were trying to avoid – were on their way. Not to mention that there’s now an alarm ringing to get everyone else in gear!
“Uh-huh.” He’d found someone. Another lab guy? It had to be. Xander damn near skipped over to him and the labbie – an older man in his fifties, maybe – looked surprised at first, then horrified. He must’ve put a purpose behind the alarm, and Alex’s shining smile as Xander put it into overdrive froze the man in his spot. “Hi! I’m looking for the transfer room? The name might’ve changed, but I’m here for the bodies.”
The labbie pointed.
That’s not going to take us very far.
Xander agreed. He put a hand on the back of the labbie’s neck and steered him in the direction that’d just been pointed out, telling him, “I’m going to need you to be a little more specific. Come on with us – I don’t bite.”
He’d be better off if you bit.
“We have our full security on alert,” the labbie croaked out. “You can’t really think you’ll be leaving.”
“Ohhhh, you crazy kids,” Xander said. “You always say it, and then I always break six necks and skedaddle. I would’ve hoped you’d learned by now.” He shoved the labbie forward. “Start walking. I’m in a rush.”
He’s co-operating, Alex said, mildly shocked. And he’s not running.
“Yeah, it’s standard procedure for the bitch-boys to curl up in a fetal position. It cuts down on the blood trails from when they feebly crawl away. Plus, it’s good cardio for anyone jumping over them.”
They barely had to walk at all. Why couldn’t they’ve found this place on their own? Another tall door stood in front of them, remarkably more solid than any of the others they’d passed. The walls around it were the same as before, but there were no windows for people to peek in through, and that made it seem much more deliberate. Whatever was in there, no one, not even the other Agency personnel, was supposed to bother it. The rest of windowless lab just seemed like someone being lazy.
“You have what you want,” the labbie said, sounding indignant and scandalized. “Go in, if that’s what you want.”
“Great! I’m gonna need your face.”
Retinal scanner. Xander grabbed the labbie’s skull and pulled him in front of red panel. It lit up and a bar of sharper red light scrolled from the struggling hairline to the thin and fragile chin. The labbie was released after and he stood up, offended, straightening his coat with two pulls on either side. Alex felt the man had taken this very well, and he was even polite enough to tell them, “The light switch is on your left. Try not to break anything, you neanderthal.”
Nice guy, he said. He’s going straight for security, you know.
“I’ll bet.” The room was dark, as was every other room they’d walked into. The sound of Alex’s shoes on the floor changed into something distinctly metallic. They were on a rafter of some kind. Through the very, very small light from the hall behind him, Alex could tell that it went on for a while. “Let’s see; on our left...”
That’s your right.
“Oh.”
Click.
The horror show began.
More rows than Alex would’ve ever guessed, longer than he tried to realize, spread out like a sea in front of him. Or like a field or a harvest made of thick, green, glowing jars, stuck upright and connected to whatever ceiling lurking in the shadows by twisted cords and wires, each of them bigger than his leg. He didn’t know why it caught his attention, but a few jars – two dozen, maybe – were filled with yellow. That took a backseat to the more ominous decoration of the enormous sign hanging in the air: FAILURES.
Are you... are you in there?
“That’d be fun, huh? But no. Not here.”
Two minutes left.
Why would they keep all of these? Are those all Agents?
“Bit of both.”
But... why?
He was horrified. It was like these people were being preserved. No - it was like they were being kept so they could get dissected. Whatever sick fantasy these people were parading around as the ‘greater good’ by doing this, there was no way any of them could be convinced that this... farm was something other than a maniac’s wet dream. Despite himself, he tried to imagine a smell that went along with it. He pictured it as something sour and disease-ridden, the kind of depressing odour that stuck in the back of a throat and coated it with slime. He was glad he couldn’t see any faces from this angle. This was enough of a nightmare on its own. If it wasn’t for his body being told to move again, he wouldn’t have been able to stop staring. Then again, it took Xander a minute to stop looking, too.
Thousands. There were thousands of them. His mind couldn’t... How had this been hidden for so long?
“This must be the national lab,” Xander muttered. “They wouldn’t keep so many here otherwise.”
But with no protection? As if Alex wanted to give the Agency some tips! There’s hardly anyone around here! We might as well’ve gotten a tour.
“Who knows? Maybe they’re on break.”
Or it’s a set up.
“I really don’t care.” That was for sure. “So as long as I get my body back, that horse can keep its damn mouth shut.”
Huh?
“‘Never look a gift-horse in the mouth’?” Alex didn’t get it. “Read a book – geez.”
He was taking them to a smaller door, one that slid open soundlessly when he approached. Alex had just enough time to notice the tiny sign at the top: a sleek, white and modest SUCCESSES. There were fourteen jars in this room, which was tiled in a bright white and looked more like an insane asylum than a science lab. The glare off the surface stung his eyes, even without eyes to sting. Shiny nametags adorned the base of each one and streams of bubbles shot up through the green ooze. Six were women, the rest were men, and all of them were at different ages. One man had grey hair, while another little girl barely looked like she was in her teens. They’d been stripped and held in place at the centre of the tube by two body-clamps, delicately placed over each one’s chest and groin. That was as mixed as messages got: we’ll steal your soul and put our Agents in your body, but we’ll be damned before we let your dangly bits roam loose in our jugs of Jell-o. It was funny, in an immensely sadistic kind of way.
One of tags said ‘David Alistair’. Alex knew what this group was.
These are the people inside that kid...
“Yeah.”
What do they need to keep them for? They have what they wanted, he said.
“Uh-huh.”
Is there something else? Do they have another step for this?
What was the point of keeping the bodies around if the process had worked? It was like an invitation for the victims to take their lives back, which would’ve been great if the Agency didn’t stand for exactly the opposite of that. Maybe they were souvenirs. He wouldn’t put it past them.
Xander was pacing irritably. He didn’t wait to be asked what was wrong.
“Gwen said I’m still considered a success. I should be in this room.”
But you’re not?
“Nope.”
He knew that voice.
... So... This was a waste.
“Looks like. Big ol’ waste of time. Wasted effort.”
Okay. So... Next, where are we –
“Gwen!” No codeword. “Start moving. Meet me back at the elevator. Drag the kid as fast as you can.”
Alex laughed. It withered away in disgrace when he noticed Xander was serious.
You’re giving up? You didn’t even look around, he said. We’re in their headquarters. There’s got to be something around here that’ll tell us where you are.
“Except we don’t have time 'cause there’s Agents on the way,” Xander said. “Forget it. Dumb idea. We’ll figure something else out later.”
What do you mean ‘later’?
“‘Later’ as in ‘not now’. Let’s go.”
He started walking back across the rafter, not bothering to glance at the body swamp as if he thought it was boring. He wrenched the door open harder than it needed to be and stalked into the empty hall, immediately turning back to the way they came.
What about you collapsing? A spark of fire jumped into Alex’s voice. What about me not having control of my body? No. No way. Not happening. Xander was in his awe-inspiring mix of seething fury and self-pity he was oh-so-famous for and beginning to crawl into his little box so he didn’t have to deal with anyone – at least until he found someone’s head to cave in. But even if there was no real security, which Alex still said was an obvious trap, coming in here was suicide mission, not a joyride. They weren’t leaving until they got what they needed, because in case a certain someone wanted to gloss over the fact, Xander, according to David, was dying. With his luck, Alex would die, too. He wasn’t going to let that happen. Go into another room. Find someone. Make them talk.
“You watch too many movies.”
You don’t let me watch movies, Alex snapped. Move your ass and figure this out!
“This is a big lab,” Xander said. “It’s going to take longer than twenty seconds –”
Then work with what you have!
This was exactly the kind of shit he needed to deal with in middle this other crap. As Xander decided to fully block everyone out, Alex just wished he could’ve sent a warning to Gwen. She might’ve picked up the guy’s seconds-away-from-explosive-everything-dies-rage from his voice, but if she didn’t, she’d figure it out fast. It wasn’t like it was going to be hard to miss. The problem was whether it’d be before or after Xander went insane and broke someone in two. What’d she say? That the Frenchmen and the two chasing her were coming? Well, maybe they could focus his tantrum if they couldn’t stop it.
What a baby. As if he was the only one not in the right skin.
Last edited by Tartra on Tue Jan 11, 2011 2:20 pm; edited 1 time in total
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Sun Aug 29, 2010 1:19 pm
Looking up into the man's angered face, she sensed that he was the most experienced as far as training went than any of the others in the room. But that still wasn't saying a lot. Still just a temp in this department, he was training to become a field Agent and going through the classes that would turn his body into a killing machine and his mind into the apathetic hole that would allow him to do the work that the Agency would order him to do. With a history of pinching babies and playing cruel tricks on senile old ladies in a nursing home he worked at for several summers, he was a 1/4 of the way there.
Struggling with him, she made it impossible for him to divide his strength to hold her still and choke her or disable her in some way. Even as divided as her attention was between Stephanie's looming consciousness, the alarms, her opponent's wrestling with his training and her, and keeping an ear out for Xander, she was somewhat distantly aware of the banshee's thoughts. As scattered as they were, she got the feeling something was going on - something she was not aware of and was beyond her senses - but the woman was terrified and desperately desiring to be out of this room and this place, so much so she would literally jump out of the skin she was occupying just to get away...from something...
Gwen was still in the midst of trying to buck the tech-Agent-in-training loose when the alarms and red lights stopped. She blinked up at eyes that were just as surprised as her own, all at once knowing that the banshee had done something to help, and trying to take the moment of vulnerability in her opponent to knock the freak off - unsuccessfully. She didn't have to fight with him much longer however as the man was lifted from her and pummeled into submission by the teenager previously known as Nathan. Breathing heavily while lying on the floor, Gwen offered up a silent prayer of thanks to whoever, promising that when they got out of this and if they did not get the banshee's body back, she would give the teenager frigging diabetes with how much syrup she'd shove down the woman's throat. In gratitude, of course.
But as she was lifted to her feet, the smile on her face froze when she realized a few minutes late that it was not the banshee who'd saved her. After dealing with the woman on her own and feeling the fear coursing through her body - a lot like the same fear that plagued Gwen in situations like these - she felt like she'd reached a certain kinship, or at the very least a sympathetic understanding of the woman's plight. David on the other hand was still an unknown variable and thus a threat, so Gwen found herself once again wary as she stood and he released her hand.
"If we stayed at the hotel, it would have ended up the same," she said in response to his comment, trying not to look as cautious as she felt. "Except we wouldn't be here because we wanted to be."
Again, Gwen found herself pulled in several different directions. So far, the emptiness above was staying stationary so she didn't worry about that too much, and while fighting the computer tech guys she'd heard Alex call out her codeword. But reaching out to him now, she realized they were preoccupied and had probably just wanted to make sure she was alright. She didn't have time to get the warm fuzzies over that as she was drawn within the internal drama that was the banshee's mind and what she could sense from David.
Despite the almost cheerful tone David adopted when responding to the woman in his head, Gwen knew that when she said "Get out" she wasn't talking about leaving this place. She wanted to switch places with him and take control of the body - he wasn't letting her do something that she wanted. "He can take care of himself," she said in response to his suggestion about Xander, while still probing through the scatter of the banshee's thoughts - the way David ignored her was a lot like Xander treated Alex half the time.
So, the banshee wanted to find her body but that plan didn't jibe well with David's own concern for survival. Gwen found herself once again feeling sorry for the woman who shared a head with this creep and also a little guilty as she remembered that had been what she'd said to get the banshee to go along with her. But he was right - they didn't have time and they didn't have a plan. It was unreasonable to take the time right now to try and search for something she didn't even know what she was looking for - she wasn't going to exactly look through the computer for "the banshee's" file, was she? And all she had to go on at the moment were the names David and Nathan and she wasn't sure how far that would get her. There were too many unknowns and now the woman was panicking at the thought of leaving here without making the attempt.
Before Gwen had the chance to try and come up with a reason why she wasn't going to "zap" him, the banshee fell silent at his threat and Gwen felt another pang of sorrow from the woman. Maybe...maybe they could just at least find out where the body was? Just for now even though they might not be able to do anything about it yet, just so they would know and could come back for it later. Did they have time for that though? He was looking at her expectantly now and she hadn't said anything for a while, so with a small smile, she held up a finger to him and murmured, "Just...give me a minute... Need to, um, consult with...my other half."
Turning slightly away from him, she cleared her mind and held a few fingers delicately to her temple before reaching out to Stephanie. It was the only thing she could think of to do right now to find out how much time they had to waste on what would probably turn out to be a wild goose chase. Who better to find that out from than the person waiting and breathing down their necks? Through the layers of stone and metal in the ceiling, Gwen let herself float up, enveloped by the cloud of static that she'd come to recognize as Stephanie's fragmented psyche. Unlike the time Gwen had faced off against her however, the cloud gave way around her letting her through to the woman's consciousness.
Remembering the pain and consequences of the last time she'd connected with the Agent, she was wary and touched her mind lightly, just peeking inside for a few moments to find out the plan. What she did not realize was that the Agent was waiting and prepared for her, the enclosed layers of her mind shut off from each other, focusing on only the things she wanted Gwen to see. As soon as Stephanie felt the tentative mental pull that she identified as a foreign consciousness, she continued to feed ignorance into the upper layer of her mind and like a tape player began to repeat in her mind the practiced thoughts she'd planned ahead of time.
Perfect. Everything was going perfectly. They'd followed them here and were barring off their exit. Despite the confidence she felt in the current plan, she was more invested in what she termed as "Plan C" if it turned out that Gwen and Alexander escaped from them this time. It didn't take any probing from Gwen to find out what the plan was, as Stephanie was so excited about it she began thinking it over once again in a way someone might replay a well-liked song in their head when they were in a good mood. No doubt Alexander has gotten our message by now and will be heading to Charlton where his body is being kept.
Charlton! Yes! That's where they needed to go! Wait...what did she mean by "our message"? Listening further, Stephanie continued. As soon as his reward is secured and the transfer is finished, he will hand her over to me and I will finally have what I want. The surge of grotesque delight inside the woman made Gwen feel ill, almost as much as the plan she was currently describing - lightly probing further to find out what exactly his "reward" would be, Gwen almost lost her footing as her knees grew weak - Alexander the guest will be pardoned for his escape with Agency property and Alexander the host will be given immunity from further Agency influence. was the response.
Oh God... Alexander the host... She was talking about Alex! The whole plotting with the Agency thing was something she might have expected from Xander since he used to work with them...but Alex too? And there was no doubt in Gwen's mind that what was being thought was the truth because a few moments later, Stephanie registered angered shock when she became aware of Gwen's presence, immediately lashing out at her like she had before. It hit nothing but empty air however, because Gwen was already drawing away from her as soon as she knew she'd been discovered. It had to be true then - they were Stephanie's own private thoughts while she hadn't known anyone had been listening, and Gwen knew that was when most people were particularly honest.
Back down within her own mind again, Gwen swayed uneasily on her feet, turning to look back at David as if she didn't recognize him. What was she going to do now? The men she'd trusted - no, the men she'd loved were planning on betraying her to the Agency. After all she'd sensed from Alex and how open he'd been up to this point, she couldn't believe that he would do that to her. Maybe Xander knew that and was intentionally keeping him in the dark about it until he got into his old body? If that was true then Alex hadn't really turned on her...yet. But given the chance to live a normal life and to stop running...would he give that up for her? A nobody? Up to this point he hadn't really responded to her except out of concern for her well-being and safety, but it was platonic at best.
Well, now she knew where they needed to go and also knew that they were being expected there. And now she knew for certain that Xander couldn't be trusted - so the question became 'when' was she going to leave them? The thought of it almost made her want to break down and crumple to the floor amongst the techies and just let the Agency have what they wanted that way. Wasn't anyone safe? Wasn't there anybody that she could trust? If they weren't working for the Agency then they were terrible people - it was just one thing after another in her life and she felt a weary weight dragging at her shoulders.
No. She couldn't give up. So she'd been wrong and had made a bad decision trusting them - it could be corrected. But for now, she needed them to help her get out of here. She'd just play along until she had a moment - Xander would probably pass out again at some point before they were able to reach Charlton, unless he got his hands on some coffee. She would wait until then.
Shaken from her thoughts, she gasped as she heard her name said aloud and reached out to catch the angry tone in Xander's voice. Now knowing what she knew about him, she ground her teeth and glared into space, berating herself for the fact that she'd been so foolish to even fall for him - he probably promised them he could manipulate her into going with him, didn't he?
Yes, sir! she pulsed back to him with a jeering version of a mental salute.
Roughly, she grabbed ahold of David's shirt and began to pull him with her as she headed back towards the door. "Alright, enough playing! It's time to go, cheeky!" her voice took on a coarse volume and after making it to the doorway, she let him go and stalked ahead at a fast pace, not even caring what he did or didn't do anymore.
By the way, it's in Charlton. Your precious body. she pulsed at Xander. But I bet you already knew that, didn't you?
At the bend in the hallway, they met up with the group of lab technicians that had passed Xander and she hid with David against an alcove in a doorway until they had gone by and rounded another corner further down. Meeting up with Xander in the hallway by the elevator, she gave him a penetrating look and began roughly pawing through his brain, searching for any inkling of his eventual betrayal. When she saw the rows of bodies in green tanks in his recent memory, her eyes opened wide briefly and she pulsed at Alex,
You found her and David's bodies? Why didn't you say anything? Are you not planning on helping them? I promised Maggie I would find it! You HEARD me say that to her!
It wasn't until she inspected the memory that she realized the woman's - the banshee's - name was Margaret Nygaard, and she felt even more guilty that now they were going to leave without helping her out. Hadn't she told him to tell her when he found something important? Why had he been silent about finding that room? And why was she still unable to read all of Xander's thoughts? What was he hiding from her? It was true wasn't it? The whole thing Stephanie had planned. It was real.
"Is there anything else you haven't told me?" she asked aloud, glaring at the man who'd once been able to turn her insides to mush with just a grin. "You know what? Nevermind. Let's just get out of here before we become a part of the sardine collection. They're waiting for us upstairs." Reaching out, the whole top floor was obscured by an impenetrable wall of shadow and whitenoise, so she couldn't tell how much back-up they'd brought. "I think it's just the four but the walking black hole makes it hard to see anything around her."
Turning to him with a facetious look in her eye she said, "Who knows. Maybe if we're lucky, they'll make it easy on us and we'll be able to slip right on by..." Hint hint, you traitorous bastard.
Struggling with him, she made it impossible for him to divide his strength to hold her still and choke her or disable her in some way. Even as divided as her attention was between Stephanie's looming consciousness, the alarms, her opponent's wrestling with his training and her, and keeping an ear out for Xander, she was somewhat distantly aware of the banshee's thoughts. As scattered as they were, she got the feeling something was going on - something she was not aware of and was beyond her senses - but the woman was terrified and desperately desiring to be out of this room and this place, so much so she would literally jump out of the skin she was occupying just to get away...from something...
Gwen was still in the midst of trying to buck the tech-Agent-in-training loose when the alarms and red lights stopped. She blinked up at eyes that were just as surprised as her own, all at once knowing that the banshee had done something to help, and trying to take the moment of vulnerability in her opponent to knock the freak off - unsuccessfully. She didn't have to fight with him much longer however as the man was lifted from her and pummeled into submission by the teenager previously known as Nathan. Breathing heavily while lying on the floor, Gwen offered up a silent prayer of thanks to whoever, promising that when they got out of this and if they did not get the banshee's body back, she would give the teenager frigging diabetes with how much syrup she'd shove down the woman's throat. In gratitude, of course.
But as she was lifted to her feet, the smile on her face froze when she realized a few minutes late that it was not the banshee who'd saved her. After dealing with the woman on her own and feeling the fear coursing through her body - a lot like the same fear that plagued Gwen in situations like these - she felt like she'd reached a certain kinship, or at the very least a sympathetic understanding of the woman's plight. David on the other hand was still an unknown variable and thus a threat, so Gwen found herself once again wary as she stood and he released her hand.
"If we stayed at the hotel, it would have ended up the same," she said in response to his comment, trying not to look as cautious as she felt. "Except we wouldn't be here because we wanted to be."
Again, Gwen found herself pulled in several different directions. So far, the emptiness above was staying stationary so she didn't worry about that too much, and while fighting the computer tech guys she'd heard Alex call out her codeword. But reaching out to him now, she realized they were preoccupied and had probably just wanted to make sure she was alright. She didn't have time to get the warm fuzzies over that as she was drawn within the internal drama that was the banshee's mind and what she could sense from David.
Despite the almost cheerful tone David adopted when responding to the woman in his head, Gwen knew that when she said "Get out" she wasn't talking about leaving this place. She wanted to switch places with him and take control of the body - he wasn't letting her do something that she wanted. "He can take care of himself," she said in response to his suggestion about Xander, while still probing through the scatter of the banshee's thoughts - the way David ignored her was a lot like Xander treated Alex half the time.
So, the banshee wanted to find her body but that plan didn't jibe well with David's own concern for survival. Gwen found herself once again feeling sorry for the woman who shared a head with this creep and also a little guilty as she remembered that had been what she'd said to get the banshee to go along with her. But he was right - they didn't have time and they didn't have a plan. It was unreasonable to take the time right now to try and search for something she didn't even know what she was looking for - she wasn't going to exactly look through the computer for "the banshee's" file, was she? And all she had to go on at the moment were the names David and Nathan and she wasn't sure how far that would get her. There were too many unknowns and now the woman was panicking at the thought of leaving here without making the attempt.
Before Gwen had the chance to try and come up with a reason why she wasn't going to "zap" him, the banshee fell silent at his threat and Gwen felt another pang of sorrow from the woman. Maybe...maybe they could just at least find out where the body was? Just for now even though they might not be able to do anything about it yet, just so they would know and could come back for it later. Did they have time for that though? He was looking at her expectantly now and she hadn't said anything for a while, so with a small smile, she held up a finger to him and murmured, "Just...give me a minute... Need to, um, consult with...my other half."
Turning slightly away from him, she cleared her mind and held a few fingers delicately to her temple before reaching out to Stephanie. It was the only thing she could think of to do right now to find out how much time they had to waste on what would probably turn out to be a wild goose chase. Who better to find that out from than the person waiting and breathing down their necks? Through the layers of stone and metal in the ceiling, Gwen let herself float up, enveloped by the cloud of static that she'd come to recognize as Stephanie's fragmented psyche. Unlike the time Gwen had faced off against her however, the cloud gave way around her letting her through to the woman's consciousness.
Remembering the pain and consequences of the last time she'd connected with the Agent, she was wary and touched her mind lightly, just peeking inside for a few moments to find out the plan. What she did not realize was that the Agent was waiting and prepared for her, the enclosed layers of her mind shut off from each other, focusing on only the things she wanted Gwen to see. As soon as Stephanie felt the tentative mental pull that she identified as a foreign consciousness, she continued to feed ignorance into the upper layer of her mind and like a tape player began to repeat in her mind the practiced thoughts she'd planned ahead of time.
Perfect. Everything was going perfectly. They'd followed them here and were barring off their exit. Despite the confidence she felt in the current plan, she was more invested in what she termed as "Plan C" if it turned out that Gwen and Alexander escaped from them this time. It didn't take any probing from Gwen to find out what the plan was, as Stephanie was so excited about it she began thinking it over once again in a way someone might replay a well-liked song in their head when they were in a good mood. No doubt Alexander has gotten our message by now and will be heading to Charlton where his body is being kept.
Charlton! Yes! That's where they needed to go! Wait...what did she mean by "our message"? Listening further, Stephanie continued. As soon as his reward is secured and the transfer is finished, he will hand her over to me and I will finally have what I want. The surge of grotesque delight inside the woman made Gwen feel ill, almost as much as the plan she was currently describing - lightly probing further to find out what exactly his "reward" would be, Gwen almost lost her footing as her knees grew weak - Alexander the guest will be pardoned for his escape with Agency property and Alexander the host will be given immunity from further Agency influence. was the response.
Oh God... Alexander the host... She was talking about Alex! The whole plotting with the Agency thing was something she might have expected from Xander since he used to work with them...but Alex too? And there was no doubt in Gwen's mind that what was being thought was the truth because a few moments later, Stephanie registered angered shock when she became aware of Gwen's presence, immediately lashing out at her like she had before. It hit nothing but empty air however, because Gwen was already drawing away from her as soon as she knew she'd been discovered. It had to be true then - they were Stephanie's own private thoughts while she hadn't known anyone had been listening, and Gwen knew that was when most people were particularly honest.
Back down within her own mind again, Gwen swayed uneasily on her feet, turning to look back at David as if she didn't recognize him. What was she going to do now? The men she'd trusted - no, the men she'd loved were planning on betraying her to the Agency. After all she'd sensed from Alex and how open he'd been up to this point, she couldn't believe that he would do that to her. Maybe Xander knew that and was intentionally keeping him in the dark about it until he got into his old body? If that was true then Alex hadn't really turned on her...yet. But given the chance to live a normal life and to stop running...would he give that up for her? A nobody? Up to this point he hadn't really responded to her except out of concern for her well-being and safety, but it was platonic at best.
Well, now she knew where they needed to go and also knew that they were being expected there. And now she knew for certain that Xander couldn't be trusted - so the question became 'when' was she going to leave them? The thought of it almost made her want to break down and crumple to the floor amongst the techies and just let the Agency have what they wanted that way. Wasn't anyone safe? Wasn't there anybody that she could trust? If they weren't working for the Agency then they were terrible people - it was just one thing after another in her life and she felt a weary weight dragging at her shoulders.
No. She couldn't give up. So she'd been wrong and had made a bad decision trusting them - it could be corrected. But for now, she needed them to help her get out of here. She'd just play along until she had a moment - Xander would probably pass out again at some point before they were able to reach Charlton, unless he got his hands on some coffee. She would wait until then.
Shaken from her thoughts, she gasped as she heard her name said aloud and reached out to catch the angry tone in Xander's voice. Now knowing what she knew about him, she ground her teeth and glared into space, berating herself for the fact that she'd been so foolish to even fall for him - he probably promised them he could manipulate her into going with him, didn't he?
Yes, sir! she pulsed back to him with a jeering version of a mental salute.
Roughly, she grabbed ahold of David's shirt and began to pull him with her as she headed back towards the door. "Alright, enough playing! It's time to go, cheeky!" her voice took on a coarse volume and after making it to the doorway, she let him go and stalked ahead at a fast pace, not even caring what he did or didn't do anymore.
By the way, it's in Charlton. Your precious body. she pulsed at Xander. But I bet you already knew that, didn't you?
At the bend in the hallway, they met up with the group of lab technicians that had passed Xander and she hid with David against an alcove in a doorway until they had gone by and rounded another corner further down. Meeting up with Xander in the hallway by the elevator, she gave him a penetrating look and began roughly pawing through his brain, searching for any inkling of his eventual betrayal. When she saw the rows of bodies in green tanks in his recent memory, her eyes opened wide briefly and she pulsed at Alex,
You found her and David's bodies? Why didn't you say anything? Are you not planning on helping them? I promised Maggie I would find it! You HEARD me say that to her!
It wasn't until she inspected the memory that she realized the woman's - the banshee's - name was Margaret Nygaard, and she felt even more guilty that now they were going to leave without helping her out. Hadn't she told him to tell her when he found something important? Why had he been silent about finding that room? And why was she still unable to read all of Xander's thoughts? What was he hiding from her? It was true wasn't it? The whole thing Stephanie had planned. It was real.
"Is there anything else you haven't told me?" she asked aloud, glaring at the man who'd once been able to turn her insides to mush with just a grin. "You know what? Nevermind. Let's just get out of here before we become a part of the sardine collection. They're waiting for us upstairs." Reaching out, the whole top floor was obscured by an impenetrable wall of shadow and whitenoise, so she couldn't tell how much back-up they'd brought. "I think it's just the four but the walking black hole makes it hard to see anything around her."
Turning to him with a facetious look in her eye she said, "Who knows. Maybe if we're lucky, they'll make it easy on us and we'll be able to slip right on by..." Hint hint, you traitorous bastard.
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Tue Aug 31, 2010 10:50 pm
Making it back to the elevator was the easiest part of today. Deciding where to go after that was... less easy.
Gwen was angry. Alex didn’t know why and he was nervous about asking, but it didn’t take a genius to really guess. Somehow, she’d formed a bond with the banshee, strong enough for the promise to help the lunatic to be more than just a bribe to get the kid to move. Now he felt guilty for not telling her they’d found the room. It was stupid of him not to mention the bodies even if David’s and the banshee’s hadn’t been there. It was the sort of stuff he was supposed to keep her posted on, no matter how freakish the dungeon was. Maybe that had upset her, too. He wished she hadn’t dug around in his brain, and she was probably pissed she’d been forced to and had unexpectedly found... that.
He wasn’t going to get the image out for a while and his headache was getting worse. He really wished it’d stop stalling to build up suspense and hit him full force already. The dull pounding on what should’ve been the back of his eyes was distracting beyond belief, but he’d take an hour or two of that times a thousand if it meant he could just get it over with. Stupid goggles. He was glad Xander’d passed them off. Gwen was a natural from what he gathered. Alex didn’t have a lot to compare it with, but she was getting the job done. No one could ask for more than that, especially because it gave her a real purpose for coming, much more than what he had for being here. So great. Now he was guilty and useless.
She'd told him ‘nevermind’ and it cut down the apology he’d been about to give. He’d tell her he was sorry later; for now, they had to focus on the Agents. Four of them? Only four. It didn’t sound so bad at first, but raw experience had taught him the smaller the number, the more dangerous the group. Whoever was up there – like he didn’t know – was at the top of their game and waiting for them.
Isn’t there a back door? We’d be better off avoiding a fight, he said. We aren’t ready for something head-on.
“Maybe you’re not. I can handle them.”
My hero.
“If they’re between me and... what’s the place again?”
Charlton.
“Where the hell is that?” He stopped caring before he got an answer. “Forget it. I’ll find a map. We’re going up there and they’re getting out of my way.” The way up was clearer than the way down. A neatly marked button was pounded on by Alex’s fist and a disc swished into place in front of them, its edges lit up with the cold bluish-white that seemed to be the Agency’s official trademark. “Get ready.”
Seriously, we should find another way.
“Well – ‘old on,” the kid said. They’d switched back to David. When had that happened? “Exactly who’s up there?”
“You’ll find out.”
“Friends of yours? Enemies? Spiteful ex-wives? I think I should know who’ll be doin’ the kicking of our asses if it’ll be involvin' mine,” David said. He brought himself up short. “‘Mine’ bein’ a relative term, o' course.”
“Funny.” Xander didn’t sound amused. “Agents, obviously. Four.”
“Four, eh? That’s not too bad,” David said. “Course, there’s no reason we should go about this blindly. If we look around, ‘m sure we c’n find... some way t’defend ourselves.”
“You do that.” Xander stepped up to the disc. “You two either come with me now and help or wait down here for a while. Either way, this isn’t taking long.”
Those last words were what Alex assumed he’d said. He wasn’t completely sure. The pain made it hard for him to concentrate, which, in case anyone felt like caring, had just exploded into a gigantic fire of agony and searing nerves, like someone had taken a grater to his brain and raked it across and then tore into it with a knife. The pounding cracked against his sanity and sucked him in until he didn’t care what was going on, where he was, HE COULD BARELY THINK IN SENTENCES –
“They’re coming up.”
“We know,” Flunky muttered.
Yeah, yeah. Their fancy lenses. They probably had a full system readout on the elevator. Jason had to rely on other, less advanced methods. In the ground of the building’s public half, a thin outline of a shadow appeared. It was barely wider than a thread but it served as an alert to anyone who would’ve been waiting to go down that the area needed to be clear for those coming up. The plate covering the entrance had lowered the slight amount, prepared to drop entirely and slide off to replace the one who’d moved. So they didn’t know he and his lead – plus Frenchie and the other one – were here? Or they did and were planning something kamikaze.
If it’d been Jason down there, he would’ve been working to find another way out. There wasn’t one, because ‘fire codes’ took less priority than the Preservation Room, and if anyone was stupid enough to let those bodies burn away – transfer status, meaning failed or successful, irrelevant to the matter – then they deserved to die, too. According to the Agency, anyway. No, he admit it: he agreed. There was too much value in those people and too much that’d been done to them to let something so inane as a fire truly kill them off. He had a good amount of faith in the lab technicians and he knew, one day, they’d find an answer for everyone who hadn’t made the transfer. From what he’d heard, they were working on it now. A lot of the units in this lab were pending a shipment to another base. He didn’t know what the final plan was, but considering these were the same people who’d given him his goggles, he was going along with it.
“They’re taking their time,” he said. “Do you think they’re having second thoughts?”
“It is a possibility,” Benoit said. “With any luck, Alexander-the-guest has collapsed. Twenty seconds until we move in.”
The Flunky twitched, preparing himself. Jason felt a new tension in his feet. If they were waiting at the base of the elevator, they – meaning the targets – would have the advantage. They could hide behind a desk or terminal and then attack from there. It’d be much better for him if they came up instead. Besides, there was room here. The lab’s halls were always a tad too cramped for walking, and since his strength came from a form of dexterity, it'd be hard to flaunt if he ran face-first into a corner. The thought drove adrenaline through his veins. He braced himself.
“If he hasn’t collapsed, we’ll be leaving him up to you,” Jason reminded.
Frenchie frowned. It was a distracted frown; he’d noticed something nobody else had. Slipping out of English, he murmured to his idiot colleague, who joined him in staring distastefully through the floor.
“There is another inside,” Flunky reported. “A successful transfer, flagged for escape.”
How successful could it be if it got away?
“What’re his powers? We’ll take him in, too.”
Frenchie kept frowning, as if he was going to leave him out of the loop again.
“‘Active’.”
“Huh?”
“It says his powers are ‘active’,” Benoit replied. “Nothing else. ‘Active’.”
Alright. Jason was the third to start frowning. If his lead felt like learning some emotion – the normal kind, not the ‘rape you gently in the car’ variety – she’d frown soon, too.
“Of course they’re active. If there’s been a transfer, they have to be active,” Jason said.
“Exactly why this is disturbing. Why give such pointless information?” More French. “Have you heard of a remodelled success before?”
A what?
“No,” Jason said. “What is it?”
“I have no idea. There is even less on this case than what I put on Alexander’s.” Frenchie was amazed by it. “I should have full access to every profile, and every profile is required to provide a minimum amount of details. I cannot stand for this.” ... Benoit was an okay guy, but that was about as hypocritical as anyone could get. “Look, Jean. Tell me you see what I see: a name and a number and nothing else. What the fuck is a remodelled success? Why have I never heard of it?”
He was getting angry. Welcome to the world of never having the full story.
“It seems strange,” Flunky said, dutifully agreeable.
“‘Strange’? I should kill whoever is in charge of him. Find that out,” Frenchie ordered. “This is not to happen again.”
“Oui, Benoit.”
“Should we wait before heading in? If we don’t know what he’s capable of, we might be in over our heads,” Jason said.
“No. We move in now.” It looked like his bit of righteous fury had burned up the last of his patience. Frenchie reorganized his face into something more composed, then nodded at everyone who wasn’t a lead Agent. “Teams of two.” Then, because Jason’s face gave it away, he added, “Your lead and I will take the lift immediately after. I am sure the you of two can bear each other for the five seconds you will be alone.”
“Move, child,” the Flunky grunted, reaching a giant hand for the closest of Jason’s shoulders. “We do not have time to argue.”
He wasn’t arguing. He was making sure everyone knew the risks. He decided not to correct the caveman, though, because he was right about the timeframe they were dealing with. It wasn’t as if they could get out, but finding those two – three, apparently – was going to be a pain in the ass if they chose to hide.
Jason stepped on the lift, which had seamlessly resealed and therefore explained their targets weren’t heading up anymore. Something was going on down there. He didn’t like it, but it might give him the cover he needed. If Alexander was determined to spot him every single time he faded, then it’d be good to have the Flunky take him out first. He could sneak behind Gwen effortlessly that way and, more importantly, he could neutralize any threat the mystery profile posed. It sounded great in his head. It’d look good on the report, too. ‘In light of their success’ wasn’t going to hold much weight if he came back without his goggles. He’d have to cram as many useful acts into the hours they had left before they finished to make up for what'd happened.
Why did no one have tranquilizers? It would’ve made this easier. Once again, his input, while useful, had gone completely to waste because he hadn’t been a part of the plan's preparation. If he ever became a lead field Agent, he’d make sure he had briefing notes for everyone. It'd be his little gift to the world.
Pain. Pain, pain, pain.
“Y’don’t say,” David muttered. He took a step back from Alex, who’d thrown his hands over his ears and seemed to be trying to crush his head between them. “Alright there, mate? Y’look a bit... unhealthy.”
To put it mildly.
“I’m dandy,” the man said, far too loudly. “It’s just kinda hard to concentrate when I’ve got Satan wailing in my skull.”
Yeah, David knew what that felt like. The banshee picked up on it right away.
Quiet. Quiet. Quiet, I’m quiet. No noise.
Weird, the things that bothered her. A few clicks of his tongue – or the next best thing when he was sailing around brain-space – and she’d be writhing in agony, or put a ‘scary picture’ in her face and she’d curl up into herself, but have someone clearly in discomfort and grimacing like an explosion had gone off in his head, and she could barely take an interest. She said the word ‘pain’ almost like she was bored. Crazy Agent. They were all sadistic.
“Don’t suppose you’d mind sharing with the rest of us,” David asked.
By ‘rest of us’, he meant with him. Gwen and Alex seemed to've been chatting this entire time without him hearing. Obviously, her powers had to do with it. He’d breezed over her full description, satisfied with a fast ‘psychic’, but he hadn’t realized she’d be twisting it to make sure they didn’t have to deal with him. Well, if they didn’t want him here, they bloody could’ve left him. He’d wanted to leave! He’d been asking to leave, but a certain someone else had insisted on dragging him here and another stupider certain someone had gotten them inside. It’d taken longer than David liked to recognize where he was - the... warehouse or whatever it’d been was utterly new for him - but the feel of these halls had put it together. He didn’t like the spot he was in and he didn’t trust her co-operating with them.
‘My body, my body’. He didn’t trust that, either. If she was one of them, and she was, then she’d trained herself to get out of her body and into someone else’s. Whatever she’d done to get strapped to a bed for three years wasn’t his problem and he wasn’t about to feel sympathy for a woman who’d had an active hand in removing him from his skin – which Alex had supposedly found but didn’t feel like telling. Nice to know who his friends were, so the instant that banshee got control of herself and started teleporting like he’d told her, they were out of here until they could regroup and return. He wasn’t spending his final years withering in some boy.
Oh, it did sound horrible. He understood it now.
“Alex, shut up!”
Two crazies. David was surrounded by them.
“You’re Alex,” he reminded the man. “Let’s not switch t’third person, please. It’s a peeve of mine.”
The elevator was lighting up. David had been leaning on the wall beside it, waiting for them to reach a conclusion about what to do, but he jerked sharply away from it then. Whoever was coming down was coming down now and those lifts didn’t take their time.
They’re here. They’re here. They’re here!
“I know that,” he snapped. He started walking. “I’m headin’ this way! I’ll swing around when whoever’s up there is gone!”
Help, help, help, help –
“'M not helpin' them. They attacked me. They attacked us! You just worry ‘bout gettin’ us goin’ again," he said. "I can’t find my body if’m dead in this one and you can't either.”
No – no – no – no – no – no – go back!
But he’d already gone around the corner, around the time he heard a soft ‘click’ as a disc like the one they’d ridden in on landed at Gwen and Alex’s feet. Best of luck to 'em. He’d find his own way out, thanks.
Go back! Go back, go back!
He started jogging to make it perfectly clear he had no intention of going back. It was untrained nobodies from here on out and he could handle a hundred of those on his own. Popping someone’s head open was easy if –
GO BACK GO BACK GO BACK
“We’re goin’ this way and we’re not oh shit ‘n’ sharks.”
David was wrong. There was one more person in here to be afraid of and he’d almost crashed into him. How in the bloody fuck had he known where to be? It was impossible – they’d been teleporting like mad! There was no way he could’ve been traced or followed!
I told you.
She said it snidely, then slunk away, leaving him to handle the situation when she knew perfectly well he could’ve used her right now.
“What’s up, Nathan?” The bastard was eating an apple as if it were snack time. “You look like you’re late for something.”
Ha, ha, ha.
No, really. Shit and sharks. There was no other word for it.
He faded long before they reached the bottom. The Flunky spent his trip cracking his knuckles, clearly set to beat his target into submission. It didn’t seem like the best strategy – the point of ‘capture’ was the targets were brought in alive and that extended to ‘recapture’ as well – but considering Alexander’s endless love for his powers, it might’ve been the smartest plan he could’ve had. Anyway, it confirmed what he’d been thinking: Jean would create enough of a distraction for him to slink around unnoticed. Jason might not have had anything near the training his lead did, but he could at least keep his thoughts cloaked enough to keep him broadcasting his arrival like a parade. Maybe his target would pick up on it, maybe not, but he was banking on her being too busy screaming ‘oh my God, where did you come from?’ to notice what was buzzing around the top of his mind.
The Flunky came out swinging.
Idiots. All of them. There were only two others down here, but he’d keep his eye out for that alleged third. ‘Remodelled success’? Sure, it was strange, but he’d think about it his goggles.
She had them. She had them around her neck. He almost screamed and dove at her but, somehow, he kept it in check. He stuck to the plan he’d come up with, but his eyes did not waver from where his goggles had been taken.
He could feel them. He could hear them. Thanks to Alexander and his target choosing to party by the elevator, the Flunky didn’t have to go far to land his fist on the thief. He could’ve been aiming for the face, but Alexander was sharp enough to remember to lurch back. Even so, the blow landed on his shoulder, hammering him to the ground all the same. Jason followed the barbarian out, veiling his rushed steps under the heavy stomps. He took enough time out of his life to notice the man had fallen too quickly. The one who’d stolen part of his suit had been much faster than that and the first punch shouldn’t’ve hit him. At the very least, it shouldn’t have taken him down so neatly. Somebody wasn't paying attention. Alexander wasn’t focusing on the fight like he should.
Whatever. He was getting his goggles.
This was where he shined. He curved his foot with every step, moving with and over it. He was more than a ghost and more than the wind; he was made for this one, simple chore of getting behind enemy lines and he did it with grace it’d taken years to perfect, all to get his goggles. And his target. Her, too.
Jason swept up behind her and curled his fingers around the back of his goggles’ strap. Then he dropped the facade, yanking it, yanking her and catching her in the middle of her breath. That’d be a friendly feeling. She’d know he wasn’t playing around, and he wasn’t.
“That,” he said, pulling at his final piece, “is mine.”
Gwen was angry. Alex didn’t know why and he was nervous about asking, but it didn’t take a genius to really guess. Somehow, she’d formed a bond with the banshee, strong enough for the promise to help the lunatic to be more than just a bribe to get the kid to move. Now he felt guilty for not telling her they’d found the room. It was stupid of him not to mention the bodies even if David’s and the banshee’s hadn’t been there. It was the sort of stuff he was supposed to keep her posted on, no matter how freakish the dungeon was. Maybe that had upset her, too. He wished she hadn’t dug around in his brain, and she was probably pissed she’d been forced to and had unexpectedly found... that.
He wasn’t going to get the image out for a while and his headache was getting worse. He really wished it’d stop stalling to build up suspense and hit him full force already. The dull pounding on what should’ve been the back of his eyes was distracting beyond belief, but he’d take an hour or two of that times a thousand if it meant he could just get it over with. Stupid goggles. He was glad Xander’d passed them off. Gwen was a natural from what he gathered. Alex didn’t have a lot to compare it with, but she was getting the job done. No one could ask for more than that, especially because it gave her a real purpose for coming, much more than what he had for being here. So great. Now he was guilty and useless.
She'd told him ‘nevermind’ and it cut down the apology he’d been about to give. He’d tell her he was sorry later; for now, they had to focus on the Agents. Four of them? Only four. It didn’t sound so bad at first, but raw experience had taught him the smaller the number, the more dangerous the group. Whoever was up there – like he didn’t know – was at the top of their game and waiting for them.
Isn’t there a back door? We’d be better off avoiding a fight, he said. We aren’t ready for something head-on.
“Maybe you’re not. I can handle them.”
My hero.
“If they’re between me and... what’s the place again?”
Charlton.
“Where the hell is that?” He stopped caring before he got an answer. “Forget it. I’ll find a map. We’re going up there and they’re getting out of my way.” The way up was clearer than the way down. A neatly marked button was pounded on by Alex’s fist and a disc swished into place in front of them, its edges lit up with the cold bluish-white that seemed to be the Agency’s official trademark. “Get ready.”
Seriously, we should find another way.
“Well – ‘old on,” the kid said. They’d switched back to David. When had that happened? “Exactly who’s up there?”
“You’ll find out.”
“Friends of yours? Enemies? Spiteful ex-wives? I think I should know who’ll be doin’ the kicking of our asses if it’ll be involvin' mine,” David said. He brought himself up short. “‘Mine’ bein’ a relative term, o' course.”
“Funny.” Xander didn’t sound amused. “Agents, obviously. Four.”
“Four, eh? That’s not too bad,” David said. “Course, there’s no reason we should go about this blindly. If we look around, ‘m sure we c’n find... some way t’defend ourselves.”
“You do that.” Xander stepped up to the disc. “You two either come with me now and help or wait down here for a while. Either way, this isn’t taking long.”
Those last words were what Alex assumed he’d said. He wasn’t completely sure. The pain made it hard for him to concentrate, which, in case anyone felt like caring, had just exploded into a gigantic fire of agony and searing nerves, like someone had taken a grater to his brain and raked it across and then tore into it with a knife. The pounding cracked against his sanity and sucked him in until he didn’t care what was going on, where he was, HE COULD BARELY THINK IN SENTENCES –
* * *
“They’re coming up.”
“We know,” Flunky muttered.
Yeah, yeah. Their fancy lenses. They probably had a full system readout on the elevator. Jason had to rely on other, less advanced methods. In the ground of the building’s public half, a thin outline of a shadow appeared. It was barely wider than a thread but it served as an alert to anyone who would’ve been waiting to go down that the area needed to be clear for those coming up. The plate covering the entrance had lowered the slight amount, prepared to drop entirely and slide off to replace the one who’d moved. So they didn’t know he and his lead – plus Frenchie and the other one – were here? Or they did and were planning something kamikaze.
If it’d been Jason down there, he would’ve been working to find another way out. There wasn’t one, because ‘fire codes’ took less priority than the Preservation Room, and if anyone was stupid enough to let those bodies burn away – transfer status, meaning failed or successful, irrelevant to the matter – then they deserved to die, too. According to the Agency, anyway. No, he admit it: he agreed. There was too much value in those people and too much that’d been done to them to let something so inane as a fire truly kill them off. He had a good amount of faith in the lab technicians and he knew, one day, they’d find an answer for everyone who hadn’t made the transfer. From what he’d heard, they were working on it now. A lot of the units in this lab were pending a shipment to another base. He didn’t know what the final plan was, but considering these were the same people who’d given him his goggles, he was going along with it.
“They’re taking their time,” he said. “Do you think they’re having second thoughts?”
“It is a possibility,” Benoit said. “With any luck, Alexander-the-guest has collapsed. Twenty seconds until we move in.”
The Flunky twitched, preparing himself. Jason felt a new tension in his feet. If they were waiting at the base of the elevator, they – meaning the targets – would have the advantage. They could hide behind a desk or terminal and then attack from there. It’d be much better for him if they came up instead. Besides, there was room here. The lab’s halls were always a tad too cramped for walking, and since his strength came from a form of dexterity, it'd be hard to flaunt if he ran face-first into a corner. The thought drove adrenaline through his veins. He braced himself.
“If he hasn’t collapsed, we’ll be leaving him up to you,” Jason reminded.
Frenchie frowned. It was a distracted frown; he’d noticed something nobody else had. Slipping out of English, he murmured to his idiot colleague, who joined him in staring distastefully through the floor.
“There is another inside,” Flunky reported. “A successful transfer, flagged for escape.”
How successful could it be if it got away?
“What’re his powers? We’ll take him in, too.”
Frenchie kept frowning, as if he was going to leave him out of the loop again.
“‘Active’.”
“Huh?”
“It says his powers are ‘active’,” Benoit replied. “Nothing else. ‘Active’.”
Alright. Jason was the third to start frowning. If his lead felt like learning some emotion – the normal kind, not the ‘rape you gently in the car’ variety – she’d frown soon, too.
“Of course they’re active. If there’s been a transfer, they have to be active,” Jason said.
“Exactly why this is disturbing. Why give such pointless information?” More French. “Have you heard of a remodelled success before?”
A what?
“No,” Jason said. “What is it?”
“I have no idea. There is even less on this case than what I put on Alexander’s.” Frenchie was amazed by it. “I should have full access to every profile, and every profile is required to provide a minimum amount of details. I cannot stand for this.” ... Benoit was an okay guy, but that was about as hypocritical as anyone could get. “Look, Jean. Tell me you see what I see: a name and a number and nothing else. What the fuck is a remodelled success? Why have I never heard of it?”
He was getting angry. Welcome to the world of never having the full story.
“It seems strange,” Flunky said, dutifully agreeable.
“‘Strange’? I should kill whoever is in charge of him. Find that out,” Frenchie ordered. “This is not to happen again.”
“Oui, Benoit.”
“Should we wait before heading in? If we don’t know what he’s capable of, we might be in over our heads,” Jason said.
“No. We move in now.” It looked like his bit of righteous fury had burned up the last of his patience. Frenchie reorganized his face into something more composed, then nodded at everyone who wasn’t a lead Agent. “Teams of two.” Then, because Jason’s face gave it away, he added, “Your lead and I will take the lift immediately after. I am sure the you of two can bear each other for the five seconds you will be alone.”
“Move, child,” the Flunky grunted, reaching a giant hand for the closest of Jason’s shoulders. “We do not have time to argue.”
He wasn’t arguing. He was making sure everyone knew the risks. He decided not to correct the caveman, though, because he was right about the timeframe they were dealing with. It wasn’t as if they could get out, but finding those two – three, apparently – was going to be a pain in the ass if they chose to hide.
Jason stepped on the lift, which had seamlessly resealed and therefore explained their targets weren’t heading up anymore. Something was going on down there. He didn’t like it, but it might give him the cover he needed. If Alexander was determined to spot him every single time he faded, then it’d be good to have the Flunky take him out first. He could sneak behind Gwen effortlessly that way and, more importantly, he could neutralize any threat the mystery profile posed. It sounded great in his head. It’d look good on the report, too. ‘In light of their success’ wasn’t going to hold much weight if he came back without his goggles. He’d have to cram as many useful acts into the hours they had left before they finished to make up for what'd happened.
Why did no one have tranquilizers? It would’ve made this easier. Once again, his input, while useful, had gone completely to waste because he hadn’t been a part of the plan's preparation. If he ever became a lead field Agent, he’d make sure he had briefing notes for everyone. It'd be his little gift to the world.
* * *
Pain. Pain, pain, pain.
“Y’don’t say,” David muttered. He took a step back from Alex, who’d thrown his hands over his ears and seemed to be trying to crush his head between them. “Alright there, mate? Y’look a bit... unhealthy.”
To put it mildly.
“I’m dandy,” the man said, far too loudly. “It’s just kinda hard to concentrate when I’ve got Satan wailing in my skull.”
Yeah, David knew what that felt like. The banshee picked up on it right away.
Quiet. Quiet. Quiet, I’m quiet. No noise.
Weird, the things that bothered her. A few clicks of his tongue – or the next best thing when he was sailing around brain-space – and she’d be writhing in agony, or put a ‘scary picture’ in her face and she’d curl up into herself, but have someone clearly in discomfort and grimacing like an explosion had gone off in his head, and she could barely take an interest. She said the word ‘pain’ almost like she was bored. Crazy Agent. They were all sadistic.
“Don’t suppose you’d mind sharing with the rest of us,” David asked.
By ‘rest of us’, he meant with him. Gwen and Alex seemed to've been chatting this entire time without him hearing. Obviously, her powers had to do with it. He’d breezed over her full description, satisfied with a fast ‘psychic’, but he hadn’t realized she’d be twisting it to make sure they didn’t have to deal with him. Well, if they didn’t want him here, they bloody could’ve left him. He’d wanted to leave! He’d been asking to leave, but a certain someone else had insisted on dragging him here and another stupider certain someone had gotten them inside. It’d taken longer than David liked to recognize where he was - the... warehouse or whatever it’d been was utterly new for him - but the feel of these halls had put it together. He didn’t like the spot he was in and he didn’t trust her co-operating with them.
‘My body, my body’. He didn’t trust that, either. If she was one of them, and she was, then she’d trained herself to get out of her body and into someone else’s. Whatever she’d done to get strapped to a bed for three years wasn’t his problem and he wasn’t about to feel sympathy for a woman who’d had an active hand in removing him from his skin – which Alex had supposedly found but didn’t feel like telling. Nice to know who his friends were, so the instant that banshee got control of herself and started teleporting like he’d told her, they were out of here until they could regroup and return. He wasn’t spending his final years withering in some boy.
Oh, it did sound horrible. He understood it now.
“Alex, shut up!”
Two crazies. David was surrounded by them.
“You’re Alex,” he reminded the man. “Let’s not switch t’third person, please. It’s a peeve of mine.”
The elevator was lighting up. David had been leaning on the wall beside it, waiting for them to reach a conclusion about what to do, but he jerked sharply away from it then. Whoever was coming down was coming down now and those lifts didn’t take their time.
They’re here. They’re here. They’re here!
“I know that,” he snapped. He started walking. “I’m headin’ this way! I’ll swing around when whoever’s up there is gone!”
Help, help, help, help –
“'M not helpin' them. They attacked me. They attacked us! You just worry ‘bout gettin’ us goin’ again," he said. "I can’t find my body if’m dead in this one and you can't either.”
No – no – no – no – no – no – go back!
But he’d already gone around the corner, around the time he heard a soft ‘click’ as a disc like the one they’d ridden in on landed at Gwen and Alex’s feet. Best of luck to 'em. He’d find his own way out, thanks.
Go back! Go back, go back!
He started jogging to make it perfectly clear he had no intention of going back. It was untrained nobodies from here on out and he could handle a hundred of those on his own. Popping someone’s head open was easy if –
GO BACK GO BACK GO BACK
“We’re goin’ this way and we’re not oh shit ‘n’ sharks.”
David was wrong. There was one more person in here to be afraid of and he’d almost crashed into him. How in the bloody fuck had he known where to be? It was impossible – they’d been teleporting like mad! There was no way he could’ve been traced or followed!
I told you.
She said it snidely, then slunk away, leaving him to handle the situation when she knew perfectly well he could’ve used her right now.
“What’s up, Nathan?” The bastard was eating an apple as if it were snack time. “You look like you’re late for something.”
Ha, ha, ha.
No, really. Shit and sharks. There was no other word for it.
* * *
He faded long before they reached the bottom. The Flunky spent his trip cracking his knuckles, clearly set to beat his target into submission. It didn’t seem like the best strategy – the point of ‘capture’ was the targets were brought in alive and that extended to ‘recapture’ as well – but considering Alexander’s endless love for his powers, it might’ve been the smartest plan he could’ve had. Anyway, it confirmed what he’d been thinking: Jean would create enough of a distraction for him to slink around unnoticed. Jason might not have had anything near the training his lead did, but he could at least keep his thoughts cloaked enough to keep him broadcasting his arrival like a parade. Maybe his target would pick up on it, maybe not, but he was banking on her being too busy screaming ‘oh my God, where did you come from?’ to notice what was buzzing around the top of his mind.
The Flunky came out swinging.
Idiots. All of them. There were only two others down here, but he’d keep his eye out for that alleged third. ‘Remodelled success’? Sure, it was strange, but he’d think about it his goggles.
She had them. She had them around her neck. He almost screamed and dove at her but, somehow, he kept it in check. He stuck to the plan he’d come up with, but his eyes did not waver from where his goggles had been taken.
He could feel them. He could hear them. Thanks to Alexander and his target choosing to party by the elevator, the Flunky didn’t have to go far to land his fist on the thief. He could’ve been aiming for the face, but Alexander was sharp enough to remember to lurch back. Even so, the blow landed on his shoulder, hammering him to the ground all the same. Jason followed the barbarian out, veiling his rushed steps under the heavy stomps. He took enough time out of his life to notice the man had fallen too quickly. The one who’d stolen part of his suit had been much faster than that and the first punch shouldn’t’ve hit him. At the very least, it shouldn’t have taken him down so neatly. Somebody wasn't paying attention. Alexander wasn’t focusing on the fight like he should.
Whatever. He was getting his goggles.
This was where he shined. He curved his foot with every step, moving with and over it. He was more than a ghost and more than the wind; he was made for this one, simple chore of getting behind enemy lines and he did it with grace it’d taken years to perfect, all to get his goggles. And his target. Her, too.
Jason swept up behind her and curled his fingers around the back of his goggles’ strap. Then he dropped the facade, yanking it, yanking her and catching her in the middle of her breath. That’d be a friendly feeling. She’d know he wasn’t playing around, and he wasn’t.
“That,” he said, pulling at his final piece, “is mine.”
Last edited by Tartra on Fri Jan 14, 2011 4:46 pm; edited 1 time in total
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Wed Sep 01, 2010 1:19 am
Here it was, the final moments before the next showdown. She was electrified, ecstatic. Nothing could take away the absolute confidence she felt. The first part of the plan had been a success. Just as expected, Gwen had reached out to her and had dug around in the pile of false information that Stephanie had laid out for her. There had been some truth to it all - like the new location of Alexander's body - but for the most part it was all lies. And she'd cut off contact before Gwen had too much time to dig any deeper, also continuing the ruse that the psychic had caught her off guard again.
It was damaging information and would increase not only Gwen's doubts about Alexander but about herself as well. Leaving the young woman wrapped up in vulnerable emotions and making her weak as she tried to get away from him. Stephanie watched as the elevator disk lit up and they continued to wait with nothing happening. Jason asked confused about the delay, and Stephanie grinned internally, knowing what it probably was. It meant, either Gwen or Alexander would be coming up alone--
Another? Hm, that was interesting. So they'd picked up someone else along the way. It wasn't something they'd anticipated but she doubted it changed much. Gwen had already fixated on Alexander back at the apartment - her writing a book about him had been evidence of that. It was unlikely that Gwen would be shaken loose from that fixation so easily. Well, now the possibility was most definitely open with the seeds having been planted for their trust to crumble. She wasn't worried and she mentally rolled her eyes as Benoit got upset and angry over not knowing about this other person or being able to identify them.
She almost smiled at Jason as he was dragged forward by Jean and slowly lowered from sight on the disk. Waiting for the thing to respawn, she turned to Benoit and idly asked, "What is the name? You said there was only a name and a file number. Who is it?"
Why couldn't he just be the way he seemed? Why couldn't there be one man, just ONE who could be everything she liked and hated about him and actually love her back? And why did they always try to victimize her? Did she have a frigging sign on her forehead? Or did she just have a talent - a hidden super power - for attracting narcissistic men? Now more than ever she felt the weight of all that had happened pushing down on her. She just wanted it to be over and to have a relationship with someone that the worst thing that would happen if he lied and betrayed her would be he cheated on her with someone else. As opposed to actually endangering her life and selling her out to the "bad guys".
She stood beside him in the hallway near the elevators and she just stared at him trying to make it fit, trying to just hate him for what he was planning on doing - and Xander had the nerve to pretend he didn't remember the city, even after she'd just said it. Gimme a break, Mr. I-Need-To-Find-My-Body! His plan to break in here was almost as faulty as the banshee's insistence that they search the computer for her own in the middle of everything and just about as neurotically fervent.
At the same time as wanting to get away from him, of just leaving and never seeing him again, she also found herself wanting an explanation. After what she'd been through, she really did feel like everyone knew something she didn't - which was really odd considering that she could read just about everyone's thoughts - as if there was something that was wrong about her. She could almost make herself believe that he'd chosen her for some reason, right from the beginning. And that possibility, more than anything else, made her feel incredibly wounded. It made her realize how much she'd liked him and how much she'd invested in him and for him to turn around and cut her like he was going to... She'd been so stupid...
Brought back to the present by David's inclusion into the conversation - oh, right. She'd forgotten about him a little bit - she agreed that they should try and find something to defend themselves with. Gwen's powers gave her only a slight advantage over what these people were supposedly capable of, and even compared to what the techies had known how to do with their training, it was right at her level. With Stephanie's impenetrable wall of static, if Gwen went up there, she would be stuck with normal taijutsu without any psychic advantage - anyone within a few feet of Stephanie would be enveloped within the static as well - and she would be useless like that.
But Xander's alternative plan was not one she agreed with. Oh, right. He was going to go up there and "beat them up" and come back down to get David and her and everything would be hunky-dory? No. She knew what was likely to happen - he'd go up there and in the cloak of Stephanie's block, they'd all have a little meeting and hash out the details of the deal they were going to make. Then their Agent friends would disperse "defeated" and he'd come down and proceed to drag her to Charlton where he'd get his reward and hand her over. Nice try. She was done playing the fool.
"No. I'm going with you now," she said and started forward after him, stopping in her tracks as he did, doubling over and gripping his head in both hands. Something was wrong. Reaching out mentally, she gasped harshly and nearly fell over as the pounding pain in his head assaulted her as well. Instantly, jarred and vulnerable, she retreated from him and closed him off from her senses, blinking and breathing heavily as she stared at him. And still in her head she remembered the terrifying sound of Alex screaming in agony.
It seemed like all of her previous hatred for him disappeared and sympathy and confusion filled it's place. The goggles. He'd said they'd give him a really bad headache, didn't he? Well, now he had it and she suddenly was at a loss for what to do, but desperately wanting to help him. They didn't have time to sit around and wait for it to run it's course, but she had no idea how to solve it. "Alex?" she asked hesitantly reaching out a hand to him, feeling sorry that she'd been so angry before, almost as if this sudden excruciating pain was her fault.
Then David was suddenly leaving - she'd been mildly aware of the conversation he'd been having with Maggie but hadn't been paying too much attention, completely focused on what was happening to the ever-ready hero. As he walked past her, telling her what he was planning, she whipped her head around to give him an anxious, blue-eyed look, before she was left glaring after him. "What the hell, David? Thanks a lot, you coward!"
She kept a link up with him even as he disappeared around a corner, but then she found herself looking back at the lowering elevator and the man standing upon the disk platform. Her breathing came in labored gasps and she quivered in place as she looked him over, his tall, wide bulk of muscle and flesh being more than enough to crush her without blinking, and she realized just how utterly helpless she was. There was nothing she could do before he'd stepped forward and was smashing his fist into Xander's body, making her flinch in response, looking towards the empty hallway where David had disappeared as if he might return suddenly to help her somehow.
So many distractions. She hadn't even noticed he was there until her head was jerked back and her air was cut off with a sharp yank of the goggles strap. Surprise clouded her mind and her hands flew up to grip the front of the goggles to pull them back and stop him from trying to choke her, frantically reaching out mentally to try and figure out who was attacking her. She figured it out just as he spoke and she was able to get a few images from his head before he reacted and closed her off.
"Jason!!" she gasped aloud, her right hand flying back to catch him in the face. He saw it coming a mile away however and easily tossed his head out of the way. Her left elbow came shooting back into him right on the heels of his dodge and she caught him in the gut, but he wouldn't let go. The blow had landed but seemed to bounce right off of him. She couldn't do anything so long as he had a hold on them, his grip on them as fierce as if his life depended on it - from her previous times connecting with him, she knew it did.
Gwen was loathe to give them up. Not only were they her new special thing that gave her an extra special boost with her powers - and plus, she really liked them and enjoyed using them - but she knew once he had them, his suit would be complete again and his already present physical advantage would go up. As it was, every time he pulled on them, she felt her air cut off and dizzyness overcame her - she couldn't fight him like this. She had to give them up.
Tucking her chin and pulling back against the goggles with her hands, she stretched the strap and slid her face through them, her hair briefly tangling with the machinery of the eyepieces before she slipped away from him. Her breathing coming labored now, a hand went to her throat and she looked for him but couldn't find him. He was invisible! Like the ladder and the doorways had been! Shit! And he was doing a good job of keeping her from seeing too far into his mind - probably something he'd learned from Stephanie although he hadn't done this good of a job last time.
Physically and mentally, she wasn't going to win - but really all she needed to do was distract him enough to get away. The best she could do was unsettle him in some way. "There. Happy now? Don't feel too bad that I got your little text buddy Gary to destroy everything on them. He's such an idiot, he did it, no questions asked with lots of "lol's" and "hugs"."
She knew that would mean a lot to him, that she'd had the system reset and he'd have to start everything over. She just hoped that maybe he'd be distracted enough to actually try and ask Gary right now, giving her enough time to do something. Glancing at Xander and the other guy, she bit her lip and turned back searching the empty hallway for her opponent. There was a temporary blip of thought just a few feet from her and she circled away from it warily before he disappeared again.
Something else, something else! She had to get away from him so she could help Xander! Where the fuck was David!? "So, Stephanie, huh? You like a dominant woman who shoves you around like that? Like to be owned by your ladies? And everyone knows. Does that get you off, Jason? Got a little bit of a humiliation fetish?" Off to her right, between her and Xander and Jean now, she felt another pulse of emotion and she moved further away from him back towards the elevator with a smirk on her face. "Or are you just too big of a pussy to do anything about it? She's a spoiled brat. A child. and you let her get away with so much - for what? A perfect record? Give me a break. You either like her molesting you, or you've got no spine at all. And like I said - and I should know - they all know about it. Sure, someone who follows orders makes a good team player and they might promote you or whatever - but it's unlikely they'll ever let someone like you lead others. Specially with how weak the suit makes you."
She was running out of things to bait him with - although the particular memories she had grabbed before he'd shut her off had really surprised her. When she'd originally thought that Stephanie should pursue Jason in a relationship, she hadn't had that in mind. The woman seemed incapable of healthy social interaction. And now she didn't feel anything from him at all. She had no clue where he was, but she was standing right in front of the still cycling elevator, her feet light and ready to move out of the way as soon as he made an angered dive at her. That is...if he would at all.
It was damaging information and would increase not only Gwen's doubts about Alexander but about herself as well. Leaving the young woman wrapped up in vulnerable emotions and making her weak as she tried to get away from him. Stephanie watched as the elevator disk lit up and they continued to wait with nothing happening. Jason asked confused about the delay, and Stephanie grinned internally, knowing what it probably was. It meant, either Gwen or Alexander would be coming up alone--
Another? Hm, that was interesting. So they'd picked up someone else along the way. It wasn't something they'd anticipated but she doubted it changed much. Gwen had already fixated on Alexander back at the apartment - her writing a book about him had been evidence of that. It was unlikely that Gwen would be shaken loose from that fixation so easily. Well, now the possibility was most definitely open with the seeds having been planted for their trust to crumble. She wasn't worried and she mentally rolled her eyes as Benoit got upset and angry over not knowing about this other person or being able to identify them.
She almost smiled at Jason as he was dragged forward by Jean and slowly lowered from sight on the disk. Waiting for the thing to respawn, she turned to Benoit and idly asked, "What is the name? You said there was only a name and a file number. Who is it?"
----------
Why couldn't he just be the way he seemed? Why couldn't there be one man, just ONE who could be everything she liked and hated about him and actually love her back? And why did they always try to victimize her? Did she have a frigging sign on her forehead? Or did she just have a talent - a hidden super power - for attracting narcissistic men? Now more than ever she felt the weight of all that had happened pushing down on her. She just wanted it to be over and to have a relationship with someone that the worst thing that would happen if he lied and betrayed her would be he cheated on her with someone else. As opposed to actually endangering her life and selling her out to the "bad guys".
She stood beside him in the hallway near the elevators and she just stared at him trying to make it fit, trying to just hate him for what he was planning on doing - and Xander had the nerve to pretend he didn't remember the city, even after she'd just said it. Gimme a break, Mr. I-Need-To-Find-My-Body! His plan to break in here was almost as faulty as the banshee's insistence that they search the computer for her own in the middle of everything and just about as neurotically fervent.
At the same time as wanting to get away from him, of just leaving and never seeing him again, she also found herself wanting an explanation. After what she'd been through, she really did feel like everyone knew something she didn't - which was really odd considering that she could read just about everyone's thoughts - as if there was something that was wrong about her. She could almost make herself believe that he'd chosen her for some reason, right from the beginning. And that possibility, more than anything else, made her feel incredibly wounded. It made her realize how much she'd liked him and how much she'd invested in him and for him to turn around and cut her like he was going to... She'd been so stupid...
Brought back to the present by David's inclusion into the conversation - oh, right. She'd forgotten about him a little bit - she agreed that they should try and find something to defend themselves with. Gwen's powers gave her only a slight advantage over what these people were supposedly capable of, and even compared to what the techies had known how to do with their training, it was right at her level. With Stephanie's impenetrable wall of static, if Gwen went up there, she would be stuck with normal taijutsu without any psychic advantage - anyone within a few feet of Stephanie would be enveloped within the static as well - and she would be useless like that.
But Xander's alternative plan was not one she agreed with. Oh, right. He was going to go up there and "beat them up" and come back down to get David and her and everything would be hunky-dory? No. She knew what was likely to happen - he'd go up there and in the cloak of Stephanie's block, they'd all have a little meeting and hash out the details of the deal they were going to make. Then their Agent friends would disperse "defeated" and he'd come down and proceed to drag her to Charlton where he'd get his reward and hand her over. Nice try. She was done playing the fool.
"No. I'm going with you now," she said and started forward after him, stopping in her tracks as he did, doubling over and gripping his head in both hands. Something was wrong. Reaching out mentally, she gasped harshly and nearly fell over as the pounding pain in his head assaulted her as well. Instantly, jarred and vulnerable, she retreated from him and closed him off from her senses, blinking and breathing heavily as she stared at him. And still in her head she remembered the terrifying sound of Alex screaming in agony.
It seemed like all of her previous hatred for him disappeared and sympathy and confusion filled it's place. The goggles. He'd said they'd give him a really bad headache, didn't he? Well, now he had it and she suddenly was at a loss for what to do, but desperately wanting to help him. They didn't have time to sit around and wait for it to run it's course, but she had no idea how to solve it. "Alex?" she asked hesitantly reaching out a hand to him, feeling sorry that she'd been so angry before, almost as if this sudden excruciating pain was her fault.
Then David was suddenly leaving - she'd been mildly aware of the conversation he'd been having with Maggie but hadn't been paying too much attention, completely focused on what was happening to the ever-ready hero. As he walked past her, telling her what he was planning, she whipped her head around to give him an anxious, blue-eyed look, before she was left glaring after him. "What the hell, David? Thanks a lot, you coward!"
She kept a link up with him even as he disappeared around a corner, but then she found herself looking back at the lowering elevator and the man standing upon the disk platform. Her breathing came in labored gasps and she quivered in place as she looked him over, his tall, wide bulk of muscle and flesh being more than enough to crush her without blinking, and she realized just how utterly helpless she was. There was nothing she could do before he'd stepped forward and was smashing his fist into Xander's body, making her flinch in response, looking towards the empty hallway where David had disappeared as if he might return suddenly to help her somehow.
So many distractions. She hadn't even noticed he was there until her head was jerked back and her air was cut off with a sharp yank of the goggles strap. Surprise clouded her mind and her hands flew up to grip the front of the goggles to pull them back and stop him from trying to choke her, frantically reaching out mentally to try and figure out who was attacking her. She figured it out just as he spoke and she was able to get a few images from his head before he reacted and closed her off.
"Jason!!" she gasped aloud, her right hand flying back to catch him in the face. He saw it coming a mile away however and easily tossed his head out of the way. Her left elbow came shooting back into him right on the heels of his dodge and she caught him in the gut, but he wouldn't let go. The blow had landed but seemed to bounce right off of him. She couldn't do anything so long as he had a hold on them, his grip on them as fierce as if his life depended on it - from her previous times connecting with him, she knew it did.
Gwen was loathe to give them up. Not only were they her new special thing that gave her an extra special boost with her powers - and plus, she really liked them and enjoyed using them - but she knew once he had them, his suit would be complete again and his already present physical advantage would go up. As it was, every time he pulled on them, she felt her air cut off and dizzyness overcame her - she couldn't fight him like this. She had to give them up.
Tucking her chin and pulling back against the goggles with her hands, she stretched the strap and slid her face through them, her hair briefly tangling with the machinery of the eyepieces before she slipped away from him. Her breathing coming labored now, a hand went to her throat and she looked for him but couldn't find him. He was invisible! Like the ladder and the doorways had been! Shit! And he was doing a good job of keeping her from seeing too far into his mind - probably something he'd learned from Stephanie although he hadn't done this good of a job last time.
Physically and mentally, she wasn't going to win - but really all she needed to do was distract him enough to get away. The best she could do was unsettle him in some way. "There. Happy now? Don't feel too bad that I got your little text buddy Gary to destroy everything on them. He's such an idiot, he did it, no questions asked with lots of "lol's" and "hugs"."
She knew that would mean a lot to him, that she'd had the system reset and he'd have to start everything over. She just hoped that maybe he'd be distracted enough to actually try and ask Gary right now, giving her enough time to do something. Glancing at Xander and the other guy, she bit her lip and turned back searching the empty hallway for her opponent. There was a temporary blip of thought just a few feet from her and she circled away from it warily before he disappeared again.
Something else, something else! She had to get away from him so she could help Xander! Where the fuck was David!? "So, Stephanie, huh? You like a dominant woman who shoves you around like that? Like to be owned by your ladies? And everyone knows. Does that get you off, Jason? Got a little bit of a humiliation fetish?" Off to her right, between her and Xander and Jean now, she felt another pulse of emotion and she moved further away from him back towards the elevator with a smirk on her face. "Or are you just too big of a pussy to do anything about it? She's a spoiled brat. A child. and you let her get away with so much - for what? A perfect record? Give me a break. You either like her molesting you, or you've got no spine at all. And like I said - and I should know - they all know about it. Sure, someone who follows orders makes a good team player and they might promote you or whatever - but it's unlikely they'll ever let someone like you lead others. Specially with how weak the suit makes you."
She was running out of things to bait him with - although the particular memories she had grabbed before he'd shut her off had really surprised her. When she'd originally thought that Stephanie should pursue Jason in a relationship, she hadn't had that in mind. The woman seemed incapable of healthy social interaction. And now she didn't feel anything from him at all. She had no clue where he was, but she was standing right in front of the still cycling elevator, her feet light and ready to move out of the way as soon as he made an angered dive at her. That is...if he would at all.
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Wed Sep 01, 2010 4:03 am
Oh God, there were no words for how pissed he was right now! Everything had changed the second she opened her mouth. Getting the goggles off of her neck had been a breeze and he relished the weight of the final, blessed gift that made his suit a whole. He had them back. Jason would never let them go again.
And then she dropped a bomb.
She reset the system? She reset it?
He couldn’t help it. The hatred welled inside him broke through his mental shell before he could rein it in. It’d only been for a second – she couldn’t have gotten a read off it. He moved around, dancing, the heat of his anger warming the air until he knew she taste it. She was so, incredibly, unbelievably fucking lucky he wasn’t allowed to kill her. He would have and he should’ve. She reset his system – he’d spent forever on it, and that asshole Gary – that moron through and through – ran a back-up so fucking infrequently, he’d be lucky to get a third of everything he’d put together! He hated her, hated her, and it broke through again, spiking out of his head like the tongue of a snake. Keep it together, Jason. Focus!
She had no idea where he was. Perfect. So long as Jean kept Alexander busy, he’d have this wrapped up in minutes. And the man was, in fact, doing a very good job at keeping the other target in check. Alexander had managed to gather himself enough to start fighting back, but the Flunky had knocked him halfway down the hallway. He was getting more and more reckless about where he threw his fists, pouring them through terminals and leaving dents that didn’t tear the walls purely because they were made of metal. The man’s hand should’ve been broken by now, but Jean, Jason had realized soon enough, was one of those ‘pain eater’ types. Those were the craziest of the crazy when it came to field work. They were beyond reckless, and until they were bleeding from every inch of their body and had limbs hanging on by strands, they weren’t satisfied to call it a good day. It looked like he’d found his match in Alexander, though. Out of everything the Flunky had given him, three – counting the one that’d knocked the thief off his feet at first – had worked. Any normal person would’ve been unconscious - dead - by now, but Alexander kept going even if he wasn’t strong enough to fight back directly.
Let them have each other. Jason’s eyes went back to his fight, and he circled his target, still looming under the elephant-stomps of the other two, to end up behind her again.
He recoiled from her almost immediately, focusing for some screwed and amateurish reason on what she was saying instead of putting her out of his mind and finishing the job. It was a stupid question and he could’ve hit himself for wondering, but how the fuck did she know about Steph– ah – his lead? He tried to tighten his defences, but the shock of that... It escaped him, too. But then it was gone. He was still undercover for now. His suit took a lot of balance to maintain, especially when he was faded, and if something threw him off – exactly why he had to ignore her. Out of his mind, out of his mind, then he was back to thinking about the job he had to do.
His lead. And Frenchie. Five seconds? It’d been more than that.
She was practically inside the elevator now. Dammit. He shouldn’t have moved away. Now the best he could do was get by her side, almost in her blind spot, but it was chancy. Chancier still when she wouldn’t stop talking. Another break, but this time he swallowed it down before it boiled over. She wasn’t wrong. The suit did make him weak and he accepted it. As for his lead, he had to put work before any and all things personal. He’d sort it out with her later, but even if it meant he was ‘spineless’, he saw never mentioning it again – ever – as a perfectly legitimate solution. This girl didn’t know what she was talking about. He prided himself on avoiding conflict and he had a hundred other things he was already dragging to his grave. One more wasn’t going to hurt him and one more wasn’t going to throw him off his game. His resolve restored, he made...
What was that?
That... whirring. It was a high-pitched whine, like a machine spinning wildly out of control. It was... Where was it coming from?
“Do you think that will work? This is Agency technology,” Flunky bellowed. “Your pitiful powers have no chance!”
“Fancy contacts,” Alexander spat. “Stupid then, stupid now. I figured that out years ago.”
The whirring was coming from them. From the thief.
“I will kill you long before you break through!”
“I thought you wanted me alive.”
Jean had the man by his arm and his neck, crushing both of them in his hands. In one fast throw, without letting releasing him, the Flunky picked Alexander up and slammed him into a terminal. Alexander coughed, loudly, and the whirring stopped for a half a second, but then his head raised and he was glaring back, boring into Jean's mind and refusing to acknowledge the fingers tightening around his throat. The whirring revived, more shrill and concentrated. Jason didn’t know what to do. Anything?
“Benoit may see a point in keeping in you,” Flunky snarled in his face, almost happy to be squeezing the life out of the man – and annoyed it was going unapplauded. “I see you as a pointless threat. So long as he is up there, why pretend to see it his way?”
“Gee, that’s loyal,” Alexander said.
His neck had to struggle to make any noise. Jason was surprised his words had been loud enough to hear from where they stood.
“It is the most loyal thing I could do for him. You are beyond control. We gave you your chance to surrender and you refused,” Flunky told him. “A feral dog may win a war, but it will turn against its master. Better to be rid of you now than wait for you to kill again.”
“I think I’m flattered.” It really was him. If Jason had to guess, and he knew he’d be right, Alexander was... charging, like he was readying an attack. His eyes were glowing; the whites of them had slowly grown into a cruel light, too steady for Jason to have noticed any earlier than now, and maybe it was because he’d only seen it twice, but he was sure the mind ray or whatever Alexander used to kill was not supposed to have a physical form. Jason stepped up, trying to get a closer look, forgetting Gwen entirely as a rush of panic flooded through him. The very air itself, savagely wavy and real, had wrapped around the brutal stare, pulling it into a single blast while his eyes kept glowing brighter. “But I’m getting sick of this shit.”
“Unfortunate,” Flunky replied. “Allow me to help you end it.”
“Buddy, you don’t even know.”
No. Way.
Despite the hand around his throat and the blows to his body, the death Frenchie had been slowly dealing with whatever stunt he’d pulled and the thing that been distracting the man all the while, Alexander still found enough of himself to curve his mouth into the most bloodthirsty smile he had ever seen. His teeth quietly revealed themselves, his canines decidedly sharper than they had any right to be, but that... that could’ve been in Jason’s head. That wasn’t...
Oh yes it was. It had to be. Somehow. And it slipped out of his mouth before he realized he was saying it, but that guy, Alexander-the-guest –
“... Marshall?”
Well – fuck, now he’d given his position away.
Jason tried to move, but a ruthless screech came from Jean and he was frozen in his spot, helpless to do anything more than stand and watch as a flash, like someone had taken a picture, went off from where those men were killing each other. He didn’t need his goggles to tell him someone had won. Jean ripped away, collapsing into the other wall of the corridor, screaming and crying and swearing with a viciousness that wasn’t even supposed to be possible. Alexander – sort of – collapsed too, but he fell to his knees and stayed there, one arm propping him up and the other instinctively on his neck. He was breathing heavily and his smile had faded, but it hadn’t gone. There was a spark in the grin that refused to vanish, and as he kneeled there watching Jean drop to the ground, his mighty roars thundering through the lab before dying at his side, it put every piece into place. Yes, Jason knew who that was. He’d trained with him before. Suddenly the thought of Alexander evading capture for six years was no longer ridiculous and unreasonable. That guy... He watched Jean die with the same sense of utter victory on his face, weary though he was and almost half-dead himself, and he did it the exact way he’d been famous for back when Jason had worked with him.
It was over. The Flunky was gone. The leads still hadn’t arrived.
“Agency tech...” There was blood trickling slowly from the corner of Alexander’s mouth. He shook his head slowly, either because he didn’t want to go faster to make a point or couldn’t because he’d break something in his throat. “So... what about you...? Next in line... or... leaving early?”
Alexander could not reach him from this distance. He couldn’t. He – just... He couldn’t. He wasn’t be allowed. But the goggles weren’t on Jason’s face because he couldn’t bring himself to look at the damage yet, and they weren’t designed to stand up against those death eyes. Even his target could only be blocked by training he wasn’t sure he’d ever fully master, and yet here he was with her beside him and Alexander was staring him down from where he was. Not far, not close, but near and waiting. Jason should’ve felt the upper hand in his grip. He couldn’t’ve asked for better odds: his target hardly knew what she could do, Alexander was drained by his powers, he was tired but fully able to fight... but he didn’t see it that way. Gwen was in the perfect spot to gut him with a knife if she had one and Alexander could've gotten to his knees just to charge and slash at Jason face on a second’s notice. So he didn’t know what to do.
“Hey.” His head whipped towards the new voice. It was from a boy, fifteen or sixteen, standing at the other end of the corridor. “There’s another way out. It’s not protected. It’ll put you out at the street.”
“Who are you?” Jason voice felt tiny. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“I’m Nathan,” the boy said. He went back to talking to Jason’s target, pointing deeper into the lab. “Take a right, then go straight. When you get to the end, go left. You’ll see it. It’s like a tube with chairs. Hop in and you’ll head right out.” Then the boy’s eyes, empty and lifeless, rolled to Jason. “You’ve got orders to let them go.”
“Whose orders?”
“Don’t ask questions. Your leads will join you shortly,” the boy said. “In the meantime, the two of you need to go.”
Another cough. Alexander clambered to his feet, gracelessly. He wasn’t wasting any time accepting the advice.
“Right, straight, left. Got it,” he said, wheezing after every word. “Gwen. Let’s go.”
Jason shrank into the wall, clutching the goggles to his chest as if he was worried she was going to take them again. She couldn’t see him, but his fear was thick enough to cut. He stayed put, not sure what to focus on: his target, his dead colleague or...
Was this ‘make it easy’ enough for Benoit, or should he get murdered, too?
“Nathan,” Benoit said. “Just Nathan. The case number is 35. If you have any insight into the situation, it would be appreciated.” His fingers were idly fidgeting with his cigarette – a new one, unlit, but would be soon. “Why would they use the term ‘remodelled’? It has no meaning, unless a new project was magically pulled from thin air.”
His lenses gave him the freedom he needed to check. There was nothing in the Agency database – and his seniority granted access to all of it – that made any connection between the words ‘success’ and ‘remodelled’. He couldn’t put it together. It was less that he had sent his final man into battle running blind and more that they would work on something while keeping the information away from him. The Agency did not make mistakes. There was a reason the words had shown up as they had and he was going to find the end to it.
An alert. What now?
“The elevator has been disabled,” he said. “Someone has shut it down.”
Someone who, apparently, registered as high enough on the security log to confirm him- or herself as an Agent avoid identification. That clicked together immediately. Whoever the mystery Agent was, Benoit was positive he had something to do with the third case. And that case was running away, before Jean and Jason made it down, but with an active tracer still implanted in the case’s neck, it was easy to see him move along the corridor and... vanish. He was gone. The tracer was drawing out a path and then it disappeared. Again, Benoit dove through the Agency information, and there was the same Agent, still hiding in the shadows, sending up a short code to signal that the tracer had been securely and deliberately blocked.
The word drove him up the wall. ‘Disabled’, he could live with, and ‘removed’, too. The word ‘blocked’ served only to affirm he was being kept out. Had he been a lesser man, he would have immediately contacted headquarters and demanded the issue be rectified. As it was, there was no harm dealt. He relaxed and tried to forget the undercutting of his authority, but he did make the effort to send a request for clarification. It was how they spoke with one another, through codes. It allowed them to keep their distance in case the worst should happen, and of the hundreds of thousands of codes they had available, there was one – only one – Benoit had not seen that he now received exactly when he didn’t want it: code 0000001, more commonly known as ‘don't ask questions’.
Who the fuck did this person think he was?
“So. We wait for this ‘someone’ to let us in,” he said. “Not much longer, Miss Agent.”
As if there was comfort to be found in that.
And then she dropped a bomb.
She reset the system? She reset it?
He couldn’t help it. The hatred welled inside him broke through his mental shell before he could rein it in. It’d only been for a second – she couldn’t have gotten a read off it. He moved around, dancing, the heat of his anger warming the air until he knew she taste it. She was so, incredibly, unbelievably fucking lucky he wasn’t allowed to kill her. He would have and he should’ve. She reset his system – he’d spent forever on it, and that asshole Gary – that moron through and through – ran a back-up so fucking infrequently, he’d be lucky to get a third of everything he’d put together! He hated her, hated her, and it broke through again, spiking out of his head like the tongue of a snake. Keep it together, Jason. Focus!
She had no idea where he was. Perfect. So long as Jean kept Alexander busy, he’d have this wrapped up in minutes. And the man was, in fact, doing a very good job at keeping the other target in check. Alexander had managed to gather himself enough to start fighting back, but the Flunky had knocked him halfway down the hallway. He was getting more and more reckless about where he threw his fists, pouring them through terminals and leaving dents that didn’t tear the walls purely because they were made of metal. The man’s hand should’ve been broken by now, but Jean, Jason had realized soon enough, was one of those ‘pain eater’ types. Those were the craziest of the crazy when it came to field work. They were beyond reckless, and until they were bleeding from every inch of their body and had limbs hanging on by strands, they weren’t satisfied to call it a good day. It looked like he’d found his match in Alexander, though. Out of everything the Flunky had given him, three – counting the one that’d knocked the thief off his feet at first – had worked. Any normal person would’ve been unconscious - dead - by now, but Alexander kept going even if he wasn’t strong enough to fight back directly.
Let them have each other. Jason’s eyes went back to his fight, and he circled his target, still looming under the elephant-stomps of the other two, to end up behind her again.
He recoiled from her almost immediately, focusing for some screwed and amateurish reason on what she was saying instead of putting her out of his mind and finishing the job. It was a stupid question and he could’ve hit himself for wondering, but how the fuck did she know about Steph– ah – his lead? He tried to tighten his defences, but the shock of that... It escaped him, too. But then it was gone. He was still undercover for now. His suit took a lot of balance to maintain, especially when he was faded, and if something threw him off – exactly why he had to ignore her. Out of his mind, out of his mind, then he was back to thinking about the job he had to do.
His lead. And Frenchie. Five seconds? It’d been more than that.
She was practically inside the elevator now. Dammit. He shouldn’t have moved away. Now the best he could do was get by her side, almost in her blind spot, but it was chancy. Chancier still when she wouldn’t stop talking. Another break, but this time he swallowed it down before it boiled over. She wasn’t wrong. The suit did make him weak and he accepted it. As for his lead, he had to put work before any and all things personal. He’d sort it out with her later, but even if it meant he was ‘spineless’, he saw never mentioning it again – ever – as a perfectly legitimate solution. This girl didn’t know what she was talking about. He prided himself on avoiding conflict and he had a hundred other things he was already dragging to his grave. One more wasn’t going to hurt him and one more wasn’t going to throw him off his game. His resolve restored, he made...
What was that?
That... whirring. It was a high-pitched whine, like a machine spinning wildly out of control. It was... Where was it coming from?
“Do you think that will work? This is Agency technology,” Flunky bellowed. “Your pitiful powers have no chance!”
“Fancy contacts,” Alexander spat. “Stupid then, stupid now. I figured that out years ago.”
The whirring was coming from them. From the thief.
“I will kill you long before you break through!”
“I thought you wanted me alive.”
Jean had the man by his arm and his neck, crushing both of them in his hands. In one fast throw, without letting releasing him, the Flunky picked Alexander up and slammed him into a terminal. Alexander coughed, loudly, and the whirring stopped for a half a second, but then his head raised and he was glaring back, boring into Jean's mind and refusing to acknowledge the fingers tightening around his throat. The whirring revived, more shrill and concentrated. Jason didn’t know what to do. Anything?
“Benoit may see a point in keeping in you,” Flunky snarled in his face, almost happy to be squeezing the life out of the man – and annoyed it was going unapplauded. “I see you as a pointless threat. So long as he is up there, why pretend to see it his way?”
“Gee, that’s loyal,” Alexander said.
His neck had to struggle to make any noise. Jason was surprised his words had been loud enough to hear from where they stood.
“It is the most loyal thing I could do for him. You are beyond control. We gave you your chance to surrender and you refused,” Flunky told him. “A feral dog may win a war, but it will turn against its master. Better to be rid of you now than wait for you to kill again.”
“I think I’m flattered.” It really was him. If Jason had to guess, and he knew he’d be right, Alexander was... charging, like he was readying an attack. His eyes were glowing; the whites of them had slowly grown into a cruel light, too steady for Jason to have noticed any earlier than now, and maybe it was because he’d only seen it twice, but he was sure the mind ray or whatever Alexander used to kill was not supposed to have a physical form. Jason stepped up, trying to get a closer look, forgetting Gwen entirely as a rush of panic flooded through him. The very air itself, savagely wavy and real, had wrapped around the brutal stare, pulling it into a single blast while his eyes kept glowing brighter. “But I’m getting sick of this shit.”
“Unfortunate,” Flunky replied. “Allow me to help you end it.”
“Buddy, you don’t even know.”
No. Way.
Despite the hand around his throat and the blows to his body, the death Frenchie had been slowly dealing with whatever stunt he’d pulled and the thing that been distracting the man all the while, Alexander still found enough of himself to curve his mouth into the most bloodthirsty smile he had ever seen. His teeth quietly revealed themselves, his canines decidedly sharper than they had any right to be, but that... that could’ve been in Jason’s head. That wasn’t...
Oh yes it was. It had to be. Somehow. And it slipped out of his mouth before he realized he was saying it, but that guy, Alexander-the-guest –
“... Marshall?”
Well – fuck, now he’d given his position away.
Jason tried to move, but a ruthless screech came from Jean and he was frozen in his spot, helpless to do anything more than stand and watch as a flash, like someone had taken a picture, went off from where those men were killing each other. He didn’t need his goggles to tell him someone had won. Jean ripped away, collapsing into the other wall of the corridor, screaming and crying and swearing with a viciousness that wasn’t even supposed to be possible. Alexander – sort of – collapsed too, but he fell to his knees and stayed there, one arm propping him up and the other instinctively on his neck. He was breathing heavily and his smile had faded, but it hadn’t gone. There was a spark in the grin that refused to vanish, and as he kneeled there watching Jean drop to the ground, his mighty roars thundering through the lab before dying at his side, it put every piece into place. Yes, Jason knew who that was. He’d trained with him before. Suddenly the thought of Alexander evading capture for six years was no longer ridiculous and unreasonable. That guy... He watched Jean die with the same sense of utter victory on his face, weary though he was and almost half-dead himself, and he did it the exact way he’d been famous for back when Jason had worked with him.
It was over. The Flunky was gone. The leads still hadn’t arrived.
“Agency tech...” There was blood trickling slowly from the corner of Alexander’s mouth. He shook his head slowly, either because he didn’t want to go faster to make a point or couldn’t because he’d break something in his throat. “So... what about you...? Next in line... or... leaving early?”
Alexander could not reach him from this distance. He couldn’t. He – just... He couldn’t. He wasn’t be allowed. But the goggles weren’t on Jason’s face because he couldn’t bring himself to look at the damage yet, and they weren’t designed to stand up against those death eyes. Even his target could only be blocked by training he wasn’t sure he’d ever fully master, and yet here he was with her beside him and Alexander was staring him down from where he was. Not far, not close, but near and waiting. Jason should’ve felt the upper hand in his grip. He couldn’t’ve asked for better odds: his target hardly knew what she could do, Alexander was drained by his powers, he was tired but fully able to fight... but he didn’t see it that way. Gwen was in the perfect spot to gut him with a knife if she had one and Alexander could've gotten to his knees just to charge and slash at Jason face on a second’s notice. So he didn’t know what to do.
“Hey.” His head whipped towards the new voice. It was from a boy, fifteen or sixteen, standing at the other end of the corridor. “There’s another way out. It’s not protected. It’ll put you out at the street.”
“Who are you?” Jason voice felt tiny. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“I’m Nathan,” the boy said. He went back to talking to Jason’s target, pointing deeper into the lab. “Take a right, then go straight. When you get to the end, go left. You’ll see it. It’s like a tube with chairs. Hop in and you’ll head right out.” Then the boy’s eyes, empty and lifeless, rolled to Jason. “You’ve got orders to let them go.”
“Whose orders?”
“Don’t ask questions. Your leads will join you shortly,” the boy said. “In the meantime, the two of you need to go.”
Another cough. Alexander clambered to his feet, gracelessly. He wasn’t wasting any time accepting the advice.
“Right, straight, left. Got it,” he said, wheezing after every word. “Gwen. Let’s go.”
Jason shrank into the wall, clutching the goggles to his chest as if he was worried she was going to take them again. She couldn’t see him, but his fear was thick enough to cut. He stayed put, not sure what to focus on: his target, his dead colleague or...
Was this ‘make it easy’ enough for Benoit, or should he get murdered, too?
* * *
“Nathan,” Benoit said. “Just Nathan. The case number is 35. If you have any insight into the situation, it would be appreciated.” His fingers were idly fidgeting with his cigarette – a new one, unlit, but would be soon. “Why would they use the term ‘remodelled’? It has no meaning, unless a new project was magically pulled from thin air.”
His lenses gave him the freedom he needed to check. There was nothing in the Agency database – and his seniority granted access to all of it – that made any connection between the words ‘success’ and ‘remodelled’. He couldn’t put it together. It was less that he had sent his final man into battle running blind and more that they would work on something while keeping the information away from him. The Agency did not make mistakes. There was a reason the words had shown up as they had and he was going to find the end to it.
An alert. What now?
“The elevator has been disabled,” he said. “Someone has shut it down.”
Someone who, apparently, registered as high enough on the security log to confirm him- or herself as an Agent avoid identification. That clicked together immediately. Whoever the mystery Agent was, Benoit was positive he had something to do with the third case. And that case was running away, before Jean and Jason made it down, but with an active tracer still implanted in the case’s neck, it was easy to see him move along the corridor and... vanish. He was gone. The tracer was drawing out a path and then it disappeared. Again, Benoit dove through the Agency information, and there was the same Agent, still hiding in the shadows, sending up a short code to signal that the tracer had been securely and deliberately blocked.
The word drove him up the wall. ‘Disabled’, he could live with, and ‘removed’, too. The word ‘blocked’ served only to affirm he was being kept out. Had he been a lesser man, he would have immediately contacted headquarters and demanded the issue be rectified. As it was, there was no harm dealt. He relaxed and tried to forget the undercutting of his authority, but he did make the effort to send a request for clarification. It was how they spoke with one another, through codes. It allowed them to keep their distance in case the worst should happen, and of the hundreds of thousands of codes they had available, there was one – only one – Benoit had not seen that he now received exactly when he didn’t want it: code 0000001, more commonly known as ‘don't ask questions’.
Who the fuck did this person think he was?
“So. We wait for this ‘someone’ to let us in,” he said. “Not much longer, Miss Agent.”
As if there was comfort to be found in that.
Last edited by Tartra on Fri Jan 14, 2011 5:24 pm; edited 1 time in total
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Thu Sep 02, 2010 1:42 am
"Jason?" Where was he? Why wasn't he attacking? What was he waiting for? Had she really distracted him so much or was he busy gushing and mooning over his goggles? Gwen could see either one being the case but she also knew that Jason was a lot more professional than his partner gave him credit for. Still, she could hope and pray for a miracle.
Right around the same time as Jason's attention was diverted, she too found herself looking toward Xander and the Arnold Schwarzenegger clone fighting him. But she had a totally different perspective of things. Audibly, she was aware of the noise and what was being said between them - and she even had a nice view of inside Jean's head, which his attention totally focused on his "target" gave her a bit more free reign, his memories just so happened to discredit the "plan" Stephanie had been thinking of while Gwen had been eavesdropping. She'd planned to trick Gwen and now she didn't know whether to be angry about that, feel really dumb that she'd fallen for it, or relieved that at least Xander wasn't planning on betraying her afterall. At least not like that...
To top it all off, she could feel him charging up. It was different than the other times he'd used his powers and she almost completely forgot about Jason or anyone else in her surroundings as her mind and body were filled with waves of sensation. At first, the low hum could almost be described as a pleasurable tickle in her temple and the base of her neck, her body being stroked with hundreds of feathers at the same time. It stopped for a moment and she blinked at the scene before her, feeling a jolt of sympathy as Xander was thrown against the terminal by the behemoth that seemed right on the edge of allowing himself to kill the man with a crushing squeeze on his windpipe.
Then the sensation was back again and she moaned in a low whisper, trembling against the wall near the elevator, as the sensation grew to a sharp point and became fixated and aimed through the lenses on Jean's face. It was becoming too much and she hastily cut off all connection she had to Jean, Xander or anyone else nearby, trying to shut it out behind a wall inside herself. But it had no effect on what he was doing and it just got more and more intense, like it was growing. A feeling of dread assaulted her then, and she shook her head weakly, wanting to say anything to stop it as if something terrible would happen to her at the end of it. Every bone in her body ached and quivered with a chill as she watched and felt the power grow within him.
Gwen was barely conscious of her surroundings anymore - Jason, the looming threat of Stephanie, the battle between the two men - so she did not see Xander grin before he let loose. Nor did she hear Jason murmur aloud to himself as the burst of mental flame scorched the air. Suddenly she felt a bit of deja vu, like she was standing in front of Roaster's again. The air was thick and enveloped her, hugging close to her skin and rushing over it swiftly. And everything seemed to slow down to a crawl.
The first thing she noticed was the man now screaming and cursing in the terminal, and it was almost like she could look right through him. Every memory and thought was like a puzzle piece clearly identified and separated from the others, all neatly arrayed together in his mind. And more than that, she saw the parts of his brain that operated his focus, that gave him access to these memories, and the parts of his mind that operated nerves and muscles. They were so clear to her, it was like she'd be able to reach out and touch them, could pull them like puppet strings. In the cloud of water-air that she was stuck inside, she couldn't manipulate them now, so she was content with just watching, every nerve and line of muscles glistening in her sights, like copper wires in a circuit board.
She watched him die, the parts of his mind that were so illuminated to her vision slowly fading into a gray nothingness and she knew the moment that his consciousness - the part of Jean that was Jean - left and it was before everything had completely shut off. Gwen could feel it though and he was gone. Slowly, as if moving through molasses, her eyes turned to Xander and she saw everything the same way. Things that had been hidden from her before were clear as day and she saw the part of him that was separate, the part that was Alex inside him and she could feel the pain still echoing through the man. It could be manipulated too, like if she reached out and pulled at it, the pain would come away from him and leave.
Turning to look closer to herself, she also saw Jason, clear as day, and she could feel the connection he had with the suit, almost like a string she could tug if she wanted to. What was all of this? She didn't have much time to wonder or study everything longer as a voice broke through and the water-logged air dissipated around her like a wall of dusty crumbs collapsing under its own weight.
Everything was gone. She looked at Xander and she looked at Jean and she looked where she knew Jason was standing - or at least where he'd been a second ago, as he'd disappeared again - and they were normal. She couldn't see into them at all. Reaching out tentatively she was met by a foggy cloud, as if all of a sudden she was being assaulted by a really bad sinus headache. It made her feel groggy and numb, like her face was puffy and swollen except it was her brain instead.
Looking at the source of the voice that had broken the spell she'd been under, she immediately recognized David but knew without needing to see his thoughts, that it wasn't the 42 year old Australian in the driver's seat right now. For one, he didn't have the accent and for another...there was just something different about him. He looked the same, but the way he held himself and spoke was almost physically identifiable as a completely different person. It certainly wasn't Maggie though... but she'd said Nathan was dead, hadn't she?
He was talking to her. Shaking her head a little to clear it, unsuccessfully, she tried to focus on what he was saying and the directions he gave for another way out. That made her eyes widen and she glanced back at the elevator just behind her. Another way out. She could get out of this without running into Stephanie. And that made her remember Jean's memories that she'd gotten ahold of before he'd died. That bitch. She'd almost completely destroyed everything. That was the last time Gwen was ever trusting anything that came from that awful woman.
But what was going on with...Nathan? Who was he and why was he suddenly sounding like he knew what was going on? As if he were in charge or something... What was happening? At the moment, after what she'd just been through, it was hard to concentrate and order her thoughts beyond the necessary things. So, when Xander wheezed in her direction, getting to his feet and walking down the direction that the kid had indicated, she followed behind him without a word, feeling like her skull was full of cotton. Unlike with the block Stephanie had put on her, her current state did not unsettle her as much. It was more like a throbbing muscle, sore after a really intense workout rather than actually being cut-off from her senses. They were still there, it just hurt and ached to use her powers right now.
Keeping herself walking straight was enough of an effort as she let Xander lead the way through the hallways, swaying uneasily on her feet every time they turned a corner and looking around at everything with somewhat glazed eyes. In a way it was like being drugged - not that she'd had experience with that, although she did experiment in high-school with a few things. Walking along behind Xander trying to keep up with him - it didn't seem fair that he should be wounded and still able to move so fast - she couldn't find her tongue or the ability to say anything. Not that now was the time for chatting, but she did feel ashamed that she'd almost fallen for Stephanie's trick. She'd been so ready to hate him and hurt him to protect herself...
Whatever. It was done and over with. It was not going to be useful to their survival for her to mope about every mistake. She'd just have to make it up to him and continue to contribute the best she could. He was all she had now and she could not let go. Arriving at the contraption "Nathan" had described, it looked like a very large bullet with a door in the side and a tunnel leading away at either end of it. Following fuzzily after Xander as he opened the door, there were two rows of chairs, three chairs for each. She almost tripped and fell trying to navigate over to one, plopping down heavily into a seat before Xander closed the door and took his own. She was not even focused enough to notice as he buckled himself in and waited a few moments before buckling her in as well.
If he spoke to her at all, she wasn't aware of it at the moment, lost in thought, her mind buzzing over what had happened and what she'd heard. It couldn't just be simple, could it? No, every time they found anything out, THAT was the time when things had to be flipped on their frigging heads. So lost in the numb emptiness that qualified for thought right now, she didn't notice they were moving until they came to a rushing stop, the outside of the slender "car" humming as it braked on the magnetic rail. In her mind it felt like she'd been sitting forever, but her body behaved differently as she rose from her seat with a groan, loathe to move about anymore today.
Was he saying something? She looked at him but his lips weren't moving, so she turned away without another thought and stepped from the tube onto asphalt. The sun was still out but currently shadowed over them and taking a deep breath of fresh air helped clear up the fog in her head somewhat, despite the slight odor that clung to it. But still she did not feel confident to use her tongue coherently and looked around the alley they'd appeared in, watching as the "bullet" retracted back into the pavement seamlessly. The street the alley let out onto was adjacent to a bus station that declared it "Elmira City Transit" and as her head began to clear even more she nodded in comprehension. They were back in the main city.
Looking out to the street that bordered the alley they were in, Gwen watched as a few people occasionally passed by, but none of them looked into the crevice or even seemed to notice her and Xander at all. The buildings that bordered them on either side was a mom and pop shoe store and a music store that sold instruments. The shoe store had apartments on the upper floor so the roof was taller on that side than the other. The sun was making it's decent into the early evening, so most of the alley was cast in shadow, reflecting off the side of the taller building. Reaching out softly, Gwen could feel her powers coming back to her as the fog in her head slowly cleared and with it's absence, she regained the use of her voice. Looking out at the people on the street however, she did not see into them like she had inside the lab. Touching different minds, it was exactly as it had been before the incident, although her head was still a little sore from before and stretching out wasn't the most comfortable for her right now. What was that, though? What had she seen?
Turning to Xander, she was met with his mostly hidden thoughts again, although she could feel everything that was happening to his body. If she looked hard enough, she remembered where the pain and strain on his throat had been and could almost pretend that she could see what it was doing to him. But it was just a flimsy memory for her. Something she couldn't touch. Clearing her throat she spoke up, sounding almost like she was still drugged at first before the animation returned to her voice. "What was that back there? What you did to Jean - that Agent you were fighting... That was different than what you've done before. A LOT different. It was like being struck by lightning..." Her voice had taken on just a hint of awe as she spoke, her blue eyes bright as she stared at him, before she trailed off and shook her head silently.
God, that sounded stupid. She didn't know how else to explain it from her end though. The charge up of his powers like that and then unleashing them - it had hurt but not in the strictest sense. How could she articulate that it had been incredibly painful and yet gloriously beautiful at the same time? The fact that she felt like telling him made her feel like an idiot too. Why would he care right now? They had other things to worry about and he was no doubt from the pain he was going through at the moment feeling like crap. He wouldn't want to hear about her girlish experiences in response to what he could do.
Lifting her eyes back up to him, Gwen changed the subject, her voice coming out clearer when she spoke again. "And what about Nathan? What was that? Margaret, the banshee, said he was dead - it was just her and David inside the kid's head. I was... Everything was really fuzzy back there, after you did...that thing, so I couldn't sense anything. I don't know if that was even really him or...someone else. I don't know how that's possible but then there was the whole stance he took with the other Agent, like he had authority over him or something. And issuing orders to you and me... I mean, I don't mean to argue with a good plan of escape, but...that was really weird."
It almost reminded her of what she had suspected Xander would have done if he'd taken the elevator upstairs without her and that in turn made her feel guilty about being suspicious of him in the first place. Vaguely, she remembered the things he'd said to Jean while they'd fought and the larger man's desire to just kill Xander and end the trouble he'd put him through. Not only that, but the memory of Stephanie detailing a plan to trick Gwen into leaving Xander, convinced her that it was all fake. And she'd fallen for it completely without question. Looking back, all of the inconsistencies became apparent to her - for instance, why would Stephanie let her guard down like that in the first place. They knew she and Xander were there in the building somewhere and Stephanie was not an idiot. She should have immediately taken anything the woman thought with caution just for the fact that Stephanie let her in without seeming to notice. Again she found herself promising not to let the woman's thoughts destroy her like that ever again.
Looking back at Xander now, she felt incredibly sorry for being such an idiot. "I wanted to say I'm sorry for being angry earlier. Stephanie..she tricked me..." No, that wasn't good. She couldn't blame it all on the Agent, not when it was glaringly obvious if she'd just taken the time to stop and think about it - but deep down she knew why she'd jumped to believe in the plot between Xander and the Agents. Somewhere inside her she was waiting for him to fail her. For him to turn out like all the other men in her life. She just couldn't believe that he was everything he presented himself to be. For someone like her, who continuously kept everything out on her sleeve, she was just waiting for someone to take advantage...
"How is Alex? He screamed in my ear last time I reached out to him..." Looking at the blood still marring his chin - he must have wiped some of it away during their ride here - she thought about the pain in his throat and how the Agent had almost broken his neck and windpipe. "You're lucky Jean didn't crush your throat - he wanted to and he could have," she said with a slightly worried tone. When she spoke again there was a deeper level of confidence in her voice. "Your neck will be alright. It will heal pretty quickly." As she spoke those words something odd happened to her voice, almost filling with an echoing quality. It wasn't something she'd ever experienced before but it did not last long and it was just a minor thing, so she shrugged it off, turning back to look at the street.
"So what do we do now? How much energy do you have left?"
In her emotionless voice she said, "I worked briefly on Nathan's case as a part of a team with several others. It was where I first started to develop ideas about my Emotion Desensitization Training, as Nathan had the ability to put people into different stages of sleep. Like hypnosis, he could put someone in a trance, or even knock them out completely. Before I was reassigned, they'd just finished a body transfer with him. A woman who could teleport was put into his head - Margaret Nygaard. I didn't work very long with them though, and I never kept up to date with it - naturally my own case took up the rest of my time - so I'm not sure where he currently is in the program or what they have planned for him."
Her eyes grew distant with memory. "He was a sweet kid though, just 13 years old at the time when I was on his case." There was the hint of something else in her voice, almost an undercurrent of pleasure. Relishing the memory of the fear in the preteen as he'd been strapped down and forced into the transfer machine. The image was one that would never leave her and she couldn't wait to see that same look of helpless terror on Gwen's face once she was put into the same position. Nathan. What was going on with him now? How far had he progressed? And what did he have to do with the targets?
After a few moments the elevator came to life again and she felt Benoit standing beside her relax a little bit as they both stepped forward onto the disk. Whatever was going on down there had come to an end and now they were being allowed to move below. Mentally, she got herself ready to engage Gwen but instantly let the walls fall as they came within sight of the lower floor. She was gone and there was no trace of the other either. Had they left together? No matter. It still could have been out of convenience. They would eventually separate, if not before Charlton then as soon as they arrived there. She had no doubt, this plan would work.
Spying Jason, even through the cloaking device he had on, Stephanie approached him with a wolf-like saunter. "Did you get what you wanted?" she asked as she stood in front of him with an edge to her voice. Lightning quick, her arm whipped out and she caught a fistful of his hair, her fingers sinking into his curly locks and tightening painfully against his scalp. She'd noticed the dead body lying a few feet down the hall near the terminals and from it's bulk, she determined that it was Jean. "Tell me everything that happened and leave nothing out."
She was not angry, in fact, she was somewhat pleased and only slightly bewildered about the current scene. She'd just gotten excited at the sight of her partner and felt the unshakable desire to hurt him a little bit. Releasing him with a rough jerk, she awaited an answer and surveyed the surrounding area with a bored gaze, intoxicated by the memory of what his hair had felt like in her grip and the sensation of his body jolting in response to her wounding touch.
Right around the same time as Jason's attention was diverted, she too found herself looking toward Xander and the Arnold Schwarzenegger clone fighting him. But she had a totally different perspective of things. Audibly, she was aware of the noise and what was being said between them - and she even had a nice view of inside Jean's head, which his attention totally focused on his "target" gave her a bit more free reign, his memories just so happened to discredit the "plan" Stephanie had been thinking of while Gwen had been eavesdropping. She'd planned to trick Gwen and now she didn't know whether to be angry about that, feel really dumb that she'd fallen for it, or relieved that at least Xander wasn't planning on betraying her afterall. At least not like that...
To top it all off, she could feel him charging up. It was different than the other times he'd used his powers and she almost completely forgot about Jason or anyone else in her surroundings as her mind and body were filled with waves of sensation. At first, the low hum could almost be described as a pleasurable tickle in her temple and the base of her neck, her body being stroked with hundreds of feathers at the same time. It stopped for a moment and she blinked at the scene before her, feeling a jolt of sympathy as Xander was thrown against the terminal by the behemoth that seemed right on the edge of allowing himself to kill the man with a crushing squeeze on his windpipe.
Then the sensation was back again and she moaned in a low whisper, trembling against the wall near the elevator, as the sensation grew to a sharp point and became fixated and aimed through the lenses on Jean's face. It was becoming too much and she hastily cut off all connection she had to Jean, Xander or anyone else nearby, trying to shut it out behind a wall inside herself. But it had no effect on what he was doing and it just got more and more intense, like it was growing. A feeling of dread assaulted her then, and she shook her head weakly, wanting to say anything to stop it as if something terrible would happen to her at the end of it. Every bone in her body ached and quivered with a chill as she watched and felt the power grow within him.
Gwen was barely conscious of her surroundings anymore - Jason, the looming threat of Stephanie, the battle between the two men - so she did not see Xander grin before he let loose. Nor did she hear Jason murmur aloud to himself as the burst of mental flame scorched the air. Suddenly she felt a bit of deja vu, like she was standing in front of Roaster's again. The air was thick and enveloped her, hugging close to her skin and rushing over it swiftly. And everything seemed to slow down to a crawl.
The first thing she noticed was the man now screaming and cursing in the terminal, and it was almost like she could look right through him. Every memory and thought was like a puzzle piece clearly identified and separated from the others, all neatly arrayed together in his mind. And more than that, she saw the parts of his brain that operated his focus, that gave him access to these memories, and the parts of his mind that operated nerves and muscles. They were so clear to her, it was like she'd be able to reach out and touch them, could pull them like puppet strings. In the cloud of water-air that she was stuck inside, she couldn't manipulate them now, so she was content with just watching, every nerve and line of muscles glistening in her sights, like copper wires in a circuit board.
She watched him die, the parts of his mind that were so illuminated to her vision slowly fading into a gray nothingness and she knew the moment that his consciousness - the part of Jean that was Jean - left and it was before everything had completely shut off. Gwen could feel it though and he was gone. Slowly, as if moving through molasses, her eyes turned to Xander and she saw everything the same way. Things that had been hidden from her before were clear as day and she saw the part of him that was separate, the part that was Alex inside him and she could feel the pain still echoing through the man. It could be manipulated too, like if she reached out and pulled at it, the pain would come away from him and leave.
Turning to look closer to herself, she also saw Jason, clear as day, and she could feel the connection he had with the suit, almost like a string she could tug if she wanted to. What was all of this? She didn't have much time to wonder or study everything longer as a voice broke through and the water-logged air dissipated around her like a wall of dusty crumbs collapsing under its own weight.
Everything was gone. She looked at Xander and she looked at Jean and she looked where she knew Jason was standing - or at least where he'd been a second ago, as he'd disappeared again - and they were normal. She couldn't see into them at all. Reaching out tentatively she was met by a foggy cloud, as if all of a sudden she was being assaulted by a really bad sinus headache. It made her feel groggy and numb, like her face was puffy and swollen except it was her brain instead.
Looking at the source of the voice that had broken the spell she'd been under, she immediately recognized David but knew without needing to see his thoughts, that it wasn't the 42 year old Australian in the driver's seat right now. For one, he didn't have the accent and for another...there was just something different about him. He looked the same, but the way he held himself and spoke was almost physically identifiable as a completely different person. It certainly wasn't Maggie though... but she'd said Nathan was dead, hadn't she?
He was talking to her. Shaking her head a little to clear it, unsuccessfully, she tried to focus on what he was saying and the directions he gave for another way out. That made her eyes widen and she glanced back at the elevator just behind her. Another way out. She could get out of this without running into Stephanie. And that made her remember Jean's memories that she'd gotten ahold of before he'd died. That bitch. She'd almost completely destroyed everything. That was the last time Gwen was ever trusting anything that came from that awful woman.
But what was going on with...Nathan? Who was he and why was he suddenly sounding like he knew what was going on? As if he were in charge or something... What was happening? At the moment, after what she'd just been through, it was hard to concentrate and order her thoughts beyond the necessary things. So, when Xander wheezed in her direction, getting to his feet and walking down the direction that the kid had indicated, she followed behind him without a word, feeling like her skull was full of cotton. Unlike with the block Stephanie had put on her, her current state did not unsettle her as much. It was more like a throbbing muscle, sore after a really intense workout rather than actually being cut-off from her senses. They were still there, it just hurt and ached to use her powers right now.
Keeping herself walking straight was enough of an effort as she let Xander lead the way through the hallways, swaying uneasily on her feet every time they turned a corner and looking around at everything with somewhat glazed eyes. In a way it was like being drugged - not that she'd had experience with that, although she did experiment in high-school with a few things. Walking along behind Xander trying to keep up with him - it didn't seem fair that he should be wounded and still able to move so fast - she couldn't find her tongue or the ability to say anything. Not that now was the time for chatting, but she did feel ashamed that she'd almost fallen for Stephanie's trick. She'd been so ready to hate him and hurt him to protect herself...
Whatever. It was done and over with. It was not going to be useful to their survival for her to mope about every mistake. She'd just have to make it up to him and continue to contribute the best she could. He was all she had now and she could not let go. Arriving at the contraption "Nathan" had described, it looked like a very large bullet with a door in the side and a tunnel leading away at either end of it. Following fuzzily after Xander as he opened the door, there were two rows of chairs, three chairs for each. She almost tripped and fell trying to navigate over to one, plopping down heavily into a seat before Xander closed the door and took his own. She was not even focused enough to notice as he buckled himself in and waited a few moments before buckling her in as well.
If he spoke to her at all, she wasn't aware of it at the moment, lost in thought, her mind buzzing over what had happened and what she'd heard. It couldn't just be simple, could it? No, every time they found anything out, THAT was the time when things had to be flipped on their frigging heads. So lost in the numb emptiness that qualified for thought right now, she didn't notice they were moving until they came to a rushing stop, the outside of the slender "car" humming as it braked on the magnetic rail. In her mind it felt like she'd been sitting forever, but her body behaved differently as she rose from her seat with a groan, loathe to move about anymore today.
Was he saying something? She looked at him but his lips weren't moving, so she turned away without another thought and stepped from the tube onto asphalt. The sun was still out but currently shadowed over them and taking a deep breath of fresh air helped clear up the fog in her head somewhat, despite the slight odor that clung to it. But still she did not feel confident to use her tongue coherently and looked around the alley they'd appeared in, watching as the "bullet" retracted back into the pavement seamlessly. The street the alley let out onto was adjacent to a bus station that declared it "Elmira City Transit" and as her head began to clear even more she nodded in comprehension. They were back in the main city.
Looking out to the street that bordered the alley they were in, Gwen watched as a few people occasionally passed by, but none of them looked into the crevice or even seemed to notice her and Xander at all. The buildings that bordered them on either side was a mom and pop shoe store and a music store that sold instruments. The shoe store had apartments on the upper floor so the roof was taller on that side than the other. The sun was making it's decent into the early evening, so most of the alley was cast in shadow, reflecting off the side of the taller building. Reaching out softly, Gwen could feel her powers coming back to her as the fog in her head slowly cleared and with it's absence, she regained the use of her voice. Looking out at the people on the street however, she did not see into them like she had inside the lab. Touching different minds, it was exactly as it had been before the incident, although her head was still a little sore from before and stretching out wasn't the most comfortable for her right now. What was that, though? What had she seen?
Turning to Xander, she was met with his mostly hidden thoughts again, although she could feel everything that was happening to his body. If she looked hard enough, she remembered where the pain and strain on his throat had been and could almost pretend that she could see what it was doing to him. But it was just a flimsy memory for her. Something she couldn't touch. Clearing her throat she spoke up, sounding almost like she was still drugged at first before the animation returned to her voice. "What was that back there? What you did to Jean - that Agent you were fighting... That was different than what you've done before. A LOT different. It was like being struck by lightning..." Her voice had taken on just a hint of awe as she spoke, her blue eyes bright as she stared at him, before she trailed off and shook her head silently.
God, that sounded stupid. She didn't know how else to explain it from her end though. The charge up of his powers like that and then unleashing them - it had hurt but not in the strictest sense. How could she articulate that it had been incredibly painful and yet gloriously beautiful at the same time? The fact that she felt like telling him made her feel like an idiot too. Why would he care right now? They had other things to worry about and he was no doubt from the pain he was going through at the moment feeling like crap. He wouldn't want to hear about her girlish experiences in response to what he could do.
Lifting her eyes back up to him, Gwen changed the subject, her voice coming out clearer when she spoke again. "And what about Nathan? What was that? Margaret, the banshee, said he was dead - it was just her and David inside the kid's head. I was... Everything was really fuzzy back there, after you did...that thing, so I couldn't sense anything. I don't know if that was even really him or...someone else. I don't know how that's possible but then there was the whole stance he took with the other Agent, like he had authority over him or something. And issuing orders to you and me... I mean, I don't mean to argue with a good plan of escape, but...that was really weird."
It almost reminded her of what she had suspected Xander would have done if he'd taken the elevator upstairs without her and that in turn made her feel guilty about being suspicious of him in the first place. Vaguely, she remembered the things he'd said to Jean while they'd fought and the larger man's desire to just kill Xander and end the trouble he'd put him through. Not only that, but the memory of Stephanie detailing a plan to trick Gwen into leaving Xander, convinced her that it was all fake. And she'd fallen for it completely without question. Looking back, all of the inconsistencies became apparent to her - for instance, why would Stephanie let her guard down like that in the first place. They knew she and Xander were there in the building somewhere and Stephanie was not an idiot. She should have immediately taken anything the woman thought with caution just for the fact that Stephanie let her in without seeming to notice. Again she found herself promising not to let the woman's thoughts destroy her like that ever again.
Looking back at Xander now, she felt incredibly sorry for being such an idiot. "I wanted to say I'm sorry for being angry earlier. Stephanie..she tricked me..." No, that wasn't good. She couldn't blame it all on the Agent, not when it was glaringly obvious if she'd just taken the time to stop and think about it - but deep down she knew why she'd jumped to believe in the plot between Xander and the Agents. Somewhere inside her she was waiting for him to fail her. For him to turn out like all the other men in her life. She just couldn't believe that he was everything he presented himself to be. For someone like her, who continuously kept everything out on her sleeve, she was just waiting for someone to take advantage...
"How is Alex? He screamed in my ear last time I reached out to him..." Looking at the blood still marring his chin - he must have wiped some of it away during their ride here - she thought about the pain in his throat and how the Agent had almost broken his neck and windpipe. "You're lucky Jean didn't crush your throat - he wanted to and he could have," she said with a slightly worried tone. When she spoke again there was a deeper level of confidence in her voice. "Your neck will be alright. It will heal pretty quickly." As she spoke those words something odd happened to her voice, almost filling with an echoing quality. It wasn't something she'd ever experienced before but it did not last long and it was just a minor thing, so she shrugged it off, turning back to look at the street.
"So what do we do now? How much energy do you have left?"
***
Strangely enough, the more impatient Benoit seemed to get, the less it affected Stephanie. Although it was troubling that someone - even a superior Agent - would interfere with their capture efforts, it was not as troubling, since they'd basically planned for the possibility of the targets' escape anyway. In fact, that was the point. Stephanie was used to having superior Agents issuing her orders and the only thing that really bothered her about the current situation was the unknown factor. Who was this and why were they doing this? And no, she had no clue what the case designation of "remodeled success" meant.In her emotionless voice she said, "I worked briefly on Nathan's case as a part of a team with several others. It was where I first started to develop ideas about my Emotion Desensitization Training, as Nathan had the ability to put people into different stages of sleep. Like hypnosis, he could put someone in a trance, or even knock them out completely. Before I was reassigned, they'd just finished a body transfer with him. A woman who could teleport was put into his head - Margaret Nygaard. I didn't work very long with them though, and I never kept up to date with it - naturally my own case took up the rest of my time - so I'm not sure where he currently is in the program or what they have planned for him."
Her eyes grew distant with memory. "He was a sweet kid though, just 13 years old at the time when I was on his case." There was the hint of something else in her voice, almost an undercurrent of pleasure. Relishing the memory of the fear in the preteen as he'd been strapped down and forced into the transfer machine. The image was one that would never leave her and she couldn't wait to see that same look of helpless terror on Gwen's face once she was put into the same position. Nathan. What was going on with him now? How far had he progressed? And what did he have to do with the targets?
After a few moments the elevator came to life again and she felt Benoit standing beside her relax a little bit as they both stepped forward onto the disk. Whatever was going on down there had come to an end and now they were being allowed to move below. Mentally, she got herself ready to engage Gwen but instantly let the walls fall as they came within sight of the lower floor. She was gone and there was no trace of the other either. Had they left together? No matter. It still could have been out of convenience. They would eventually separate, if not before Charlton then as soon as they arrived there. She had no doubt, this plan would work.
Spying Jason, even through the cloaking device he had on, Stephanie approached him with a wolf-like saunter. "Did you get what you wanted?" she asked as she stood in front of him with an edge to her voice. Lightning quick, her arm whipped out and she caught a fistful of his hair, her fingers sinking into his curly locks and tightening painfully against his scalp. She'd noticed the dead body lying a few feet down the hall near the terminals and from it's bulk, she determined that it was Jean. "Tell me everything that happened and leave nothing out."
She was not angry, in fact, she was somewhat pleased and only slightly bewildered about the current scene. She'd just gotten excited at the sight of her partner and felt the unshakable desire to hurt him a little bit. Releasing him with a rough jerk, she awaited an answer and surveyed the surrounding area with a bored gaze, intoxicated by the memory of what his hair had felt like in her grip and the sensation of his body jolting in response to her wounding touch.
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Fri Sep 03, 2010 1:04 am
His target ran off – stumbled off – before he could wonder what the hell was going on around him. That boy who’d come from nowhere had vanished as suddenly as he’d shown up. Now the elevator had was lit and he heard a small sweeping noise as his lead appeared. Just because she felt like doing it, her hand plunged into his hair and grabbed at it, yanking his head to the side and pulling at his roots. If nothing else, it shocked him back to his senses, and he kept in the sharp yelp he would’ve let loose at any other time. Good. He was getting better at being a robot. He wasn’t completely hopeless anymore.
Jason took a moment to look down the hall before he answered. What was he supposed to say about letting those two go? ‘Some phantom child said not to bother them, oh by the way, the Flunky’s dead’. He had no proof of anything and even reciting what had happened in his head seemed like a weak excuse. Nevermind what Alexander had been up to – he’d had a clear shot at his target and he’d failed to take it again. What was wrong with him? This case was like a curse. He was just happy they’d planned to let them go or else he’d have had to find a way to trade places with Jean and spare himself whatever his lead had planned.
“They found another way out,” he reported. “Jean engaged Alexander and was overwhelmed. I recovered the Agency’s equipment from our target but was unable to keep her in place.”
‘Agency equipment’. That’s what it was now. Nothing he’d been a part of was left. The goggles dangled stupidly from his fingers, its weight an annoyance rather than a relief, but he felt stronger holding it, no matter how slight the improvement was. Mostly, it made him sick. He needed to fix this.
“Define ‘overwhelmed’,” Frenchie said.
He’d taken a step towards his colleague but didn’t seem to want to get closer. He didn’t look like he trusted the area enough to walk into it, especially not when he and his lenses were supposed to have been enough to protect against Alexander’s powers. Maybe Jason should give him some credit and say the man was ‘sad’, but there was exactly the same amount of logic in thinking Benoit was delighted to find his target had broken another barrier. If things worked out and Frenchie survived the transfer, he might find a way to be unstoppable, so whether he was happy or upset remained to be seen; his face was blank as Jason’s lead’s, and anything that might’ve been in his eyes was covered.
“I honestly can’t say,” he said. “I wasn’t able to analyze the situation due to a set back with my technology.” The words were bitter in his mouth. He swallowed heavily to get the taste away, didn’t, then kept going. “The closest I can describe is that he built up his energy –”
“Not possible.”
Easy for him to say. Those two had been puttering around upstairs and missed the fight. This was one of the times he wished he was on the same level as everyone else instead of the junior free to be kicked around. No correcting senior staff, he reminded himself. He tried again.
“I heard a noise like a high-pitched whine, I saw his eyes glow –”
“No.” Benoit seemed very convinced. “Alexander cannot ‘build up’ his power and his eyes do not glow.”
They did.
“... I... guess I was mistaken, then.”
He wasn’t, but there was no point in arguing.
“The plan does not change,” Frenchie said. “We will go to Charlton and await them there. Jean would have dealt some damage before he was killed. That should slow them down.”
“It’s a two day drive to get there,” Jason said. “That’s if we hurry.”
“Plenty of time. Call the Agency,” Frenchie told him, walking back towards the elevator. “Tell them to gather –”
“Morning, kids!”
The high and cheery voice crashed over them like a wave. The force of it was enough to make Jason jump, and as he turned around to face the intruder, he saw Benoit’s head disdainfully snap to attention.
Oh. Him. He was one of the lab guys. Jason didn’t come to Elmira very often – meaning never – but labbies were moved from place to place. This one... was it Melvin? Something like that. Maybe ‘Martin’. He was a lanky guy with stringy brown hair that should’ve been cut months ago. He was wearing the standard white jacket and typical Agency uniform, paired off with an overly fashionable set of glasses, thick-rimmed and black and rectangular. They caught a lot of the light in the hallway. Until he’d reached them, there’d been nothing on his eyes but glare. He was beaming brightly, his mouth stretched into a grin beyond his ears, and his pointed face and nose rolled him close to that ‘gremlin’ category. Melvin-Martin-Whoever brought his hands in front of his chin, palms outward, and wiggled his fingers at them in greeting. Jason didn’t remember the man being quite so friendly. From what he could recall, he’d been on more of the uptight prick side of things.
“Hi,” Jason said, relived to finally have someone around he had rank over. “We’re going to need to know what other exits there are to this place.” Turning to his lead, he explained, “It might help to know where they ended up if they got out.”
“Down the hall, take a right, take a left – have at it!” ... That was a little informal. “So! What – are – we – gonna – do – about – this – body? Anyone? Takers? ‘Cause I’ll call dibs if no one wants it – that’s just what I do.”
“Back off, vulture.”
At the other end of the scale, Frenchie, who’d been pleasant enough from the beginning, had his lip curled into a leashed snarl. ... Had Jason missed something?
“Benoit, Benoit, Benoit,” Melvin-Martin said, grinning and throwing his voice into something sing-songy. “You can’t really expect me to pass this up! I mean – the guy I was running with before had a bullet through his neck! There’s only so much stitches can do if that blood won’t clot. That’s Xander’s work – thing of beauty, right up my alley, perfectly intact, so you don’t mind, do you?”
“I told you to back off.”
Jason’s brow slowly furrowed as his lips tightened into a frown. Something was going on that he wasn’t getting, and it was the sort of something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to ask about. But whatever – Melvin was an IT guy and he had nothing to fear from someone like that. In fact, the man shouldn’t have even walked up to them to talk. He should’ve crawled and then begged for audience. Everyone in this business ran on a strict hierarchy and this was completely ignoring it.
“Melvin,” Jason started, before Melvin cut him off.
“Jeffery,” he said, grabbing his hand into a tight squeeze. “Or Daniel. Or Mike or Matthew or Thomas – I’ve had every name in the big book so, really, I shouldn’t’ve bothered correcting you, except to say that the former inhabitant of this vaguely Cheeto-smeared skin is, tragically, no longer among us.”
“And you found him that way, I presume,” Benoit said. His words were growing graver by the second.
“Good sir! What kind of a monster do you think I am?” Benoit wasn’t laughing. The horror on Melvin’s faced switched back immediately to being bubbly. “Okay, okay, but I was desperate. Bullet. Neck. Leaking. Had to move fast, so why not nudge Mr. Science into something more convenient? Hey – at least this way he’s contributing, more than your boy is.” Melvin whistled. “That’s the last of your team, huh? Gonna re-recruit or fly solo?”
“I’m sorry, maybe I missed the introduction,” Jason stepped in. “Who are you?”
“In a minute, I’ll be Jean.” From his coat, probably, but he whipped it out so fast that it could’ve easily come from thin air, Melvin produced a small stack of paper. He held it up dramatically, then politely tipped it to Benoit. “Just sign.”
“Do it for me.”
“I would, Benny, if I could,” Melvin said, “but you know the rules: you have to be dead. And don’t think I haven’t considered it! You’re pretty spry for your age and I’d love to take you over – no homo - but since you’re not dead and he is... Sign.” And then he magically came up with a pen.
“Uh...” What... was... “What’s this for?”
“You,” Melvin said. “What’s your name?”
“Jason.”
“Jason! Nice to meet you, buddy – great to see someone wearin’ that ol’ suit. Advanced stuff – highly respected. Congratulations on scoring one.” Despite himself, he felt a bit flattered. “And who is this lovely lady? Benoit, you dog, you didn’t tell me you were running around with such a fox! And you’re squeamish about letting your French friend go – it’s an upgrade, I say.” And before his lead would’ve had a chance to react, Melvin scooped up her hand and delicately kissed it. “You’re far too elegant to walk these paltry halls.”
“Stephanie March,” Benoit said reluctantly, almost as if he was... Was he reporting to the guy? “She’s the lead on –”
“The Gwendolyn case – of course! Shouldn’t’ve had to ask! You’ve got ‘psychic prowess’ written all over you,” Melvin exclaimed. “Does the Agency know how to pick ‘em or what?”
“Excuse me,” Jason said. “Not to nag or anything, but I’d like to know who you are.”
“‘Not to nag’ – ah, man!” He gave Jason a few proud slaps on the arm. “Look at this guy! Right to the point, won’t take no for an answer... Hard to believe you still have work to do with this guy on the job! Looks like you’ve re-re-recruited already, Benoit! You move fast. See? Spry!” Impossibly, he grinned wider. “I’m Successful Transfer number zero-one – as in the first, the official, accept no substitutes.”
“Eric Patten was the first Agent to survive the transfer process,” Frenchie said. “He established the proper means of doing so.”
“Perfected them.”
“Whatever.”
Cold.
“Oh, you,” Melvin said. “Always so modest, even when it’s about somebody else! That’s what I like about you. You’re humble. Don’t lose that, Benny, not when you make it to the big time. Not like me. Look at me! This thing’s completely gone to my head, and it’s only getting worse. Here – watch this. Nathan!”
From around the corner, in a shambling walk, arms and legs bound by manacles and heavy chains, came the boy that’d pulled the disappearing act slowly moving towards them. He was grimy and small and his body sagged under the weight. Around his forehead was a thick, silver band, and in the centre of that, almost like a jewel, a light flashed every few seconds.
“Hello,” the boy said, wearily. He was silent after that.
Melvin was practically bouncing. He stretched out his hands and gestured wildly to the child, laughing delightedly as he waited for a reaction. Jason was confused. Benoit still seemed disgusted. Good luck finding out what his lead was thinking. Impatient, the scientist merrily prodded, “Huh? Huh? What d’ya think? It’s cool, right? It’s brand new! Go on – I know you wanna ask what it is!”
“And I know you want to explain,” Benoit replied.
“You’re absolutely right! It’s my pet project,” Melvin said. He spun around and dragged the boy into a crushing hug. He would’ve lifted him up and swung him around if he had the strength for it. “This is gonna revolutionize everything this operation stands for – again! I’m unstoppable! And I will be, once this is over with. Want more details?” His teeth flashed fiendishly. So did his glasses, obscuring his eyes with light. “Sure thing! Just grab a level A-1 pass and I’ll shoot ‘em on over to ya.”
... Level A-1? This guy was level A-1? The only thing higher than that was Agency’s founder! Who the hell was he?
“Well done,” Benoit said, somehow unimpressed. “We should leave you to your work.”
“Oh, that’s the beauty of it,” Melvin said. “Well – you’d know if you were involved, but trust me, you don’t have to leave me anywhere. In fact, I’m kind of thinking about tagging along.”
“No.”
“Come on, Benoit! We had so much fun together last time,” Melvin said. “Remember how you told me ol’ Alex was dangerous and the only way to take him down was through brute force and I was all, ‘There’s got to be a way to put these powers to use’ and you were all, ‘non, I can handle zese, I don need your ‘elp’, and then I went in and did your job for you? That was great. Those were happy times.”
“I remember those shenanigans ending with your mind vaporized inside your skull.”
“Sure, you can focus on the little stuff,” Melvin told him, “or you can admit it would’ve worked if you and your smoke buddies hadn’t crashed the party early. Remember that? Remember how you ruined everything? Yeah. That wasn’t so nice. Good thing you left a couple corpses for me to switch into before Xander popped the big bite in me, huh? Can you imagine the loss that would’ve been? No, don’t, I don’t want to see tears. It’s sadder than a baby being crushed to see a Frenchman cry.”
“What a charming picture.”
“Isn’t it? So anyway, here’s a pen, here’s the form authorizing me to take the body of your fallen comrade – wait, that’s Russian –”
“Listen to me,” Benoit said, and now his voice abandoned any hint of respect. His words were churning with pure loathing and he seemed to grow a full head taller in his anger. “I am not signing that. Find some other fool to rob, but you are not taking Jean. He has worked too hard to be handed to you.”
“That’s really sweet. Honestly, I got choked up. Now – here’s the pen –” That was it. Benoit reached forward and grabbed the sheets, tearing them precisely down their middle. He handed them back, his point made, and Melvin accepted them with a slow, surprised smile on his face. Then it burst back into full effect and the man was glowing as he reached into his lab coat to pull out a second set of papers. “That happens from time to time. That’s why it’s always good to have a spare. Where was I? Oh, right!”
“I refuse –”
“I was at the part where I was an A-1 and you were an A-3. I was at the part where I was gonna jump in your pet’s body and smash your face with it. I was at the part where I was handing you a pen and nicely asking you to sign.” Melvin bat his eyes serenely, his glasses sparkling from the flashing of the terminals lined across the walls. For the third time, he handed Benoit the stack. “Here’s the pen, and here’s the dotted line. Any other questions or can I assume you got the message?”
Jason didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t stupid enough to open his mouth, but if anyone – for whatever reason – decided to ask him what he thought, he would’ve stared at them dumbly and then shook his head.
Benoit took the papers. He signed them, stabbing into the sheets, then gave them back a little roughly.
“Enjoy defiling the memory of yet another respected soul,” he said, spitting venom.
“You know I always do,” Melvin said, marching soundly to Jean’s body. He nudged him with his foot, as though he were double checking, then gave them – more specially, gave Benoit – a perky thumbs-up. Moments after, he crumpled into a heap and didn’t move.
“Deplorable,” Benoit muttered, mostly to himself. “Nothing is sacred anymore.”
It wasn’t hard to see Melvin and ‘sacred’ weren’t on speaking terms. Jason kept that to himself, however. Instead he asked, “What’s he doing?”
“Transferring.” He gruffly pulled out a cigarette. “Just once, I wish we had a fan around. Or a breeze. Or a tornado.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Benoit pointed, before lighting up and turning away. Jason looked and squinted at the bodies. A mist had formed around both of them, bright purple and smoky. It seemed to be heavier on Melvin’s half, but that quickly evened out, then shifted so most of it – then all of it – was swirling around Jean. It vanished soon after that. A split instant before Jason opened his mouth to ask what it was, the Flunky started moving. One arm planted itself on the ground, then the other, and then he was rolling onto his feet and... smiling. It was the same one Melvin had.
“Hey, hey, hey! Look at me! I’m a muscle man! I can break bricks on my eyelids!” No accent, no sneer, simply that smile. He reached over to Melvin’s body and picked up the rectangular glasses, slipping them on and adding an entirely new dynamic to the man’s face. Then he started flexing. “I bet I could choke an elephant with my toe! Hey, what’s he got down there? Can I get a bathroom break or what?” He cracked up over that. No, wait, he was laughing at Benoit. “Oh, don’t look so violated, Benny! I’m just playing around. This is the nicest gift you’ve ever given me. I’ll take good care of it, at least until Xander shows up and kills the guy again. Ha, ha, ha! Seriously though, I’m sorry for your loss.” He clapped his hands together, ready to get to work. “So where’s everyone headed? Shotgun!”
This...
Was...
... Different.
That pain, that mind-rending, thought-slashing, heart-tearing pain, was gone. But it wasn’t gone. That was the thing. He knew he should’ve still been in agony, but it really only felt like... like he was in a big, white nothingness with eternity stretched around him. It was nothing like it’d been before. He didn’t have a body, so that part was the same, but now he was fully cut off from anything he’d had access to before. There were no eyes to see out of, no ears to hear from, and only now did he realize Gwen had built some sort of bond between them, because it was gone. And he wasn’t sure if he should’ve been worried.
He felt so relaxed, so peaceful. He should’ve been panicking and scrambling to get back to reality, but it seemed absurd to even consider it. He wasn’t happy here – he wouldn’t go that far – but he was certainly comfortable. He could hear a light hum around him, droning on and lulling him to sleep. Alex knew it wouldn’t happen. Wherever ‘here’ was, he didn’t have to sleep. He didn’t have to do anything, and that... That was okay.
The hum went on for a while. He glad for it. He wasn’t sure what had happened with the ‘headache’, but if it wasn’t over, it wasn’t bothering him anymore. A mild concern crept through the serenity over whether or not he’d been the only one to feel it. He had the faintest doubt that Gwen had been able to pull away before she got a dose. If she had, he wondered if she hadn’t tried to connect with him since and make sure he was alright. Oh, Gwen. She was so wonderful. She was a woman who’d risk her own well-being to make sure he was looked after. She impressed him. She put up with all this insanity, with Xander, and she was staying around for more. It went further than simply needing them to escape the Agents. She cared about him – cared about them both, and right now, in the midst of this, he didn’t mind if she liked Xander more than him. Just getting to be around her like this was... Well, it was more than he could’ve imagined. And he was grateful. He was eternally grateful.
Eternity...
The eternity was shrinking. He felt heavier. He realized he was breathing, and he was breathing heavily. And... hoarsely. And slowly. Except it wasn’t him breathing, he... Xander. Xander was breathing. And Alex could feel it happening.
Oh, good. It's fixed.
Shattered. Completely shattered. Alex was coughing and wheezing and pain surged through him again, but not in his head. Okay, a little in his head, but it wasn’t that searing that it’d been before. It was like he’d smashed it into something, and his throat felt like it’d collapsed on itself. God – the pain around it, and his back and his legs and his arm –
“Wha –”
Fire. Fire on everything. He’d been half-standing, he noted. Now he fell, suddenly, violently. He kept coughing.
Breathe. Remember to breathe. The voice felt like it was from a dream. In, out, in, out. This is basic stuff. Gotta get used to it again.
The white nothingness faded. Now he was staring at a gray ground. He saw his hand...
His hand!
Wait. Wait a minute.
“I’m –” Fire, more fire.
Take it easy. You didn’t get your body back to die on me now. Slowly. Breathe.
Xander was talking him through it. He was keeping Alex focused. His eyes closed and he tried to block everything out. Breathe, he told himself. The pain in his neck couldn’t stop him from breathing. His toe was going to fall off. No – breathe. Try to breathe. Worry about that later.
He felt Gwen around him again. That relaxed him. It seemed to lighten the air for him and make it easier. He wanted to say something, probably ask what was going on, but he couldn’t manage a noise right now. Coughing was torture.
His neck would be alright. It would heal pretty quickly.
He’ll be fine. I was fine. Necks are durable. He’d put that to the test. And I don’t think energy’s going to be a problem for a while. Ol’ Alex’s got his body back. Yaaaaay!
Yaaaaaay!
Still, I’d like to know how much damage it did. I know it was only a day, but if what that David guy said was true...
Cough. Cough. Felt like phlegm, tasted like blood.
About what happened in there, two things: whatever those stupid French lenses did to me – him – to get us stuck like that must’ve... reversed... magically... after I broke through them. The ‘I told them it was a dumb idea’ went unsaid, but blatantly so. Second thing? He thought about it. I don’t know. It’s never happened before. But I bet it looked awesome and I missed it. How hard is it to get a camera in there to film? Geez. Oh – and Nathan. Yeah – I don’t know what his deal was. Weird, though. Let’s not run into him again.
Xander was answering questions Alex hadn’t heard Gwen ask. How long had he been in that nothing-room? When and how did they get outside? Were they safe? Were they being chased?
... Was his toe going to fall off?
Out of control for one day and it was like he’d had a truck run over him. Granted, if it’d been him in charge, whatever crazy fight that’d gone on might’ve ended much worse. He very silently thanked Xander, but he was never going to mention it.
As for what we should do next, Charlton seems like the place to go. We find that base, waltz inside, find my body, and then if you want to go back and help the banshee out with her problem, we could find a way – maybe – to do that, too. Maybe. They might actually get security now that it’s not a trap.
Aha. So it was too easy.
“Hospit...”
Alex wants to go to the hospital. If a voice could nonchalantly shrug, that’s what Xander did. Your call. Let’s get some coffee, though. Two days and no Starbucks. You people are horrible to me.
He opened his eyes. Things looked clear enough to take in. They were in an alley of some kind and it was still day, though probably getting late in the afternoon. And Gwen, she seemed tired. Crap. Something had happened and he hadn’t been there to help.
Stephanie, Xander said, slowly, like he was moving onto a topic he wasn’t convinced he should dwell on. Don’t listen to what Agents say. They’re crazy. And they’re liars.
Xander was an Agent.
“You...”
Case in point. I’m the biggest liar you two will ever meet. Trust me the least, he told them. His voice was light, but he was serious. That seeped into his next words. I don’t know what she said or how she put anything in your head. I can guess, obviously, and I can stab at what the thought was. So... try not to panic, but... don’t rule it out... What was he talking about? That’s the sort of web the Agency loves to weave. If they can get you fear your shadow, they have you. But, sometimes... there really is a guy hiding in the dark with a knife.
“What... are –”
I’m just trying to say not to follow anyone blindly, he went on. Even me. Especially me. I get that I don’t make it easy, but when it comes down to it, I’ve got the most to gain from all this. They know that. I know that. It’s about time both of you got it through your heads. ... And maybe it’s about time for you to think about what you’d have to do.
Xander didn’t sound like he was trying to scare them. He was being careful. He was giving them answers he didn’t really want them to have but, out of kindness or loyalty or outright stupidity, was handing them over anyway. Alex took them sombrely. Yeah, he knew what Xander meant. On that off-chance the Agents made an offer ‘he couldn’t refuse’, he wanted them to have an escape plan in place. Bold thing to say, but it somehow many Alex trust the guy a bit more. After all, why in hell would he say he was capable of turning on them if he was actually going to turn on them?
“... You aren’t...”
No. I’m not. But don’t take my word for it. He relented. Fine, let’s go to the hospital. The baby needs a band-aid.
“Thanks...”
He'd better still have a toe.
Jason took a moment to look down the hall before he answered. What was he supposed to say about letting those two go? ‘Some phantom child said not to bother them, oh by the way, the Flunky’s dead’. He had no proof of anything and even reciting what had happened in his head seemed like a weak excuse. Nevermind what Alexander had been up to – he’d had a clear shot at his target and he’d failed to take it again. What was wrong with him? This case was like a curse. He was just happy they’d planned to let them go or else he’d have had to find a way to trade places with Jean and spare himself whatever his lead had planned.
“They found another way out,” he reported. “Jean engaged Alexander and was overwhelmed. I recovered the Agency’s equipment from our target but was unable to keep her in place.”
‘Agency equipment’. That’s what it was now. Nothing he’d been a part of was left. The goggles dangled stupidly from his fingers, its weight an annoyance rather than a relief, but he felt stronger holding it, no matter how slight the improvement was. Mostly, it made him sick. He needed to fix this.
“Define ‘overwhelmed’,” Frenchie said.
He’d taken a step towards his colleague but didn’t seem to want to get closer. He didn’t look like he trusted the area enough to walk into it, especially not when he and his lenses were supposed to have been enough to protect against Alexander’s powers. Maybe Jason should give him some credit and say the man was ‘sad’, but there was exactly the same amount of logic in thinking Benoit was delighted to find his target had broken another barrier. If things worked out and Frenchie survived the transfer, he might find a way to be unstoppable, so whether he was happy or upset remained to be seen; his face was blank as Jason’s lead’s, and anything that might’ve been in his eyes was covered.
“I honestly can’t say,” he said. “I wasn’t able to analyze the situation due to a set back with my technology.” The words were bitter in his mouth. He swallowed heavily to get the taste away, didn’t, then kept going. “The closest I can describe is that he built up his energy –”
“Not possible.”
Easy for him to say. Those two had been puttering around upstairs and missed the fight. This was one of the times he wished he was on the same level as everyone else instead of the junior free to be kicked around. No correcting senior staff, he reminded himself. He tried again.
“I heard a noise like a high-pitched whine, I saw his eyes glow –”
“No.” Benoit seemed very convinced. “Alexander cannot ‘build up’ his power and his eyes do not glow.”
They did.
“... I... guess I was mistaken, then.”
He wasn’t, but there was no point in arguing.
“The plan does not change,” Frenchie said. “We will go to Charlton and await them there. Jean would have dealt some damage before he was killed. That should slow them down.”
“It’s a two day drive to get there,” Jason said. “That’s if we hurry.”
“Plenty of time. Call the Agency,” Frenchie told him, walking back towards the elevator. “Tell them to gather –”
“Morning, kids!”
The high and cheery voice crashed over them like a wave. The force of it was enough to make Jason jump, and as he turned around to face the intruder, he saw Benoit’s head disdainfully snap to attention.
Oh. Him. He was one of the lab guys. Jason didn’t come to Elmira very often – meaning never – but labbies were moved from place to place. This one... was it Melvin? Something like that. Maybe ‘Martin’. He was a lanky guy with stringy brown hair that should’ve been cut months ago. He was wearing the standard white jacket and typical Agency uniform, paired off with an overly fashionable set of glasses, thick-rimmed and black and rectangular. They caught a lot of the light in the hallway. Until he’d reached them, there’d been nothing on his eyes but glare. He was beaming brightly, his mouth stretched into a grin beyond his ears, and his pointed face and nose rolled him close to that ‘gremlin’ category. Melvin-Martin-Whoever brought his hands in front of his chin, palms outward, and wiggled his fingers at them in greeting. Jason didn’t remember the man being quite so friendly. From what he could recall, he’d been on more of the uptight prick side of things.
“Hi,” Jason said, relived to finally have someone around he had rank over. “We’re going to need to know what other exits there are to this place.” Turning to his lead, he explained, “It might help to know where they ended up if they got out.”
“Down the hall, take a right, take a left – have at it!” ... That was a little informal. “So! What – are – we – gonna – do – about – this – body? Anyone? Takers? ‘Cause I’ll call dibs if no one wants it – that’s just what I do.”
“Back off, vulture.”
At the other end of the scale, Frenchie, who’d been pleasant enough from the beginning, had his lip curled into a leashed snarl. ... Had Jason missed something?
“Benoit, Benoit, Benoit,” Melvin-Martin said, grinning and throwing his voice into something sing-songy. “You can’t really expect me to pass this up! I mean – the guy I was running with before had a bullet through his neck! There’s only so much stitches can do if that blood won’t clot. That’s Xander’s work – thing of beauty, right up my alley, perfectly intact, so you don’t mind, do you?”
“I told you to back off.”
Jason’s brow slowly furrowed as his lips tightened into a frown. Something was going on that he wasn’t getting, and it was the sort of something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to ask about. But whatever – Melvin was an IT guy and he had nothing to fear from someone like that. In fact, the man shouldn’t have even walked up to them to talk. He should’ve crawled and then begged for audience. Everyone in this business ran on a strict hierarchy and this was completely ignoring it.
“Melvin,” Jason started, before Melvin cut him off.
“Jeffery,” he said, grabbing his hand into a tight squeeze. “Or Daniel. Or Mike or Matthew or Thomas – I’ve had every name in the big book so, really, I shouldn’t’ve bothered correcting you, except to say that the former inhabitant of this vaguely Cheeto-smeared skin is, tragically, no longer among us.”
“And you found him that way, I presume,” Benoit said. His words were growing graver by the second.
“Good sir! What kind of a monster do you think I am?” Benoit wasn’t laughing. The horror on Melvin’s faced switched back immediately to being bubbly. “Okay, okay, but I was desperate. Bullet. Neck. Leaking. Had to move fast, so why not nudge Mr. Science into something more convenient? Hey – at least this way he’s contributing, more than your boy is.” Melvin whistled. “That’s the last of your team, huh? Gonna re-recruit or fly solo?”
“I’m sorry, maybe I missed the introduction,” Jason stepped in. “Who are you?”
“In a minute, I’ll be Jean.” From his coat, probably, but he whipped it out so fast that it could’ve easily come from thin air, Melvin produced a small stack of paper. He held it up dramatically, then politely tipped it to Benoit. “Just sign.”
“Do it for me.”
“I would, Benny, if I could,” Melvin said, “but you know the rules: you have to be dead. And don’t think I haven’t considered it! You’re pretty spry for your age and I’d love to take you over – no homo - but since you’re not dead and he is... Sign.” And then he magically came up with a pen.
“Uh...” What... was... “What’s this for?”
“You,” Melvin said. “What’s your name?”
“Jason.”
“Jason! Nice to meet you, buddy – great to see someone wearin’ that ol’ suit. Advanced stuff – highly respected. Congratulations on scoring one.” Despite himself, he felt a bit flattered. “And who is this lovely lady? Benoit, you dog, you didn’t tell me you were running around with such a fox! And you’re squeamish about letting your French friend go – it’s an upgrade, I say.” And before his lead would’ve had a chance to react, Melvin scooped up her hand and delicately kissed it. “You’re far too elegant to walk these paltry halls.”
“Stephanie March,” Benoit said reluctantly, almost as if he was... Was he reporting to the guy? “She’s the lead on –”
“The Gwendolyn case – of course! Shouldn’t’ve had to ask! You’ve got ‘psychic prowess’ written all over you,” Melvin exclaimed. “Does the Agency know how to pick ‘em or what?”
“Excuse me,” Jason said. “Not to nag or anything, but I’d like to know who you are.”
“‘Not to nag’ – ah, man!” He gave Jason a few proud slaps on the arm. “Look at this guy! Right to the point, won’t take no for an answer... Hard to believe you still have work to do with this guy on the job! Looks like you’ve re-re-recruited already, Benoit! You move fast. See? Spry!” Impossibly, he grinned wider. “I’m Successful Transfer number zero-one – as in the first, the official, accept no substitutes.”
“Eric Patten was the first Agent to survive the transfer process,” Frenchie said. “He established the proper means of doing so.”
“Perfected them.”
“Whatever.”
Cold.
“Oh, you,” Melvin said. “Always so modest, even when it’s about somebody else! That’s what I like about you. You’re humble. Don’t lose that, Benny, not when you make it to the big time. Not like me. Look at me! This thing’s completely gone to my head, and it’s only getting worse. Here – watch this. Nathan!”
From around the corner, in a shambling walk, arms and legs bound by manacles and heavy chains, came the boy that’d pulled the disappearing act slowly moving towards them. He was grimy and small and his body sagged under the weight. Around his forehead was a thick, silver band, and in the centre of that, almost like a jewel, a light flashed every few seconds.
“Hello,” the boy said, wearily. He was silent after that.
Melvin was practically bouncing. He stretched out his hands and gestured wildly to the child, laughing delightedly as he waited for a reaction. Jason was confused. Benoit still seemed disgusted. Good luck finding out what his lead was thinking. Impatient, the scientist merrily prodded, “Huh? Huh? What d’ya think? It’s cool, right? It’s brand new! Go on – I know you wanna ask what it is!”
“And I know you want to explain,” Benoit replied.
“You’re absolutely right! It’s my pet project,” Melvin said. He spun around and dragged the boy into a crushing hug. He would’ve lifted him up and swung him around if he had the strength for it. “This is gonna revolutionize everything this operation stands for – again! I’m unstoppable! And I will be, once this is over with. Want more details?” His teeth flashed fiendishly. So did his glasses, obscuring his eyes with light. “Sure thing! Just grab a level A-1 pass and I’ll shoot ‘em on over to ya.”
... Level A-1? This guy was level A-1? The only thing higher than that was Agency’s founder! Who the hell was he?
“Well done,” Benoit said, somehow unimpressed. “We should leave you to your work.”
“Oh, that’s the beauty of it,” Melvin said. “Well – you’d know if you were involved, but trust me, you don’t have to leave me anywhere. In fact, I’m kind of thinking about tagging along.”
“No.”
“Come on, Benoit! We had so much fun together last time,” Melvin said. “Remember how you told me ol’ Alex was dangerous and the only way to take him down was through brute force and I was all, ‘There’s got to be a way to put these powers to use’ and you were all, ‘non, I can handle zese, I don need your ‘elp’, and then I went in and did your job for you? That was great. Those were happy times.”
“I remember those shenanigans ending with your mind vaporized inside your skull.”
“Sure, you can focus on the little stuff,” Melvin told him, “or you can admit it would’ve worked if you and your smoke buddies hadn’t crashed the party early. Remember that? Remember how you ruined everything? Yeah. That wasn’t so nice. Good thing you left a couple corpses for me to switch into before Xander popped the big bite in me, huh? Can you imagine the loss that would’ve been? No, don’t, I don’t want to see tears. It’s sadder than a baby being crushed to see a Frenchman cry.”
“What a charming picture.”
“Isn’t it? So anyway, here’s a pen, here’s the form authorizing me to take the body of your fallen comrade – wait, that’s Russian –”
“Listen to me,” Benoit said, and now his voice abandoned any hint of respect. His words were churning with pure loathing and he seemed to grow a full head taller in his anger. “I am not signing that. Find some other fool to rob, but you are not taking Jean. He has worked too hard to be handed to you.”
“That’s really sweet. Honestly, I got choked up. Now – here’s the pen –” That was it. Benoit reached forward and grabbed the sheets, tearing them precisely down their middle. He handed them back, his point made, and Melvin accepted them with a slow, surprised smile on his face. Then it burst back into full effect and the man was glowing as he reached into his lab coat to pull out a second set of papers. “That happens from time to time. That’s why it’s always good to have a spare. Where was I? Oh, right!”
“I refuse –”
“I was at the part where I was an A-1 and you were an A-3. I was at the part where I was gonna jump in your pet’s body and smash your face with it. I was at the part where I was handing you a pen and nicely asking you to sign.” Melvin bat his eyes serenely, his glasses sparkling from the flashing of the terminals lined across the walls. For the third time, he handed Benoit the stack. “Here’s the pen, and here’s the dotted line. Any other questions or can I assume you got the message?”
Jason didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t stupid enough to open his mouth, but if anyone – for whatever reason – decided to ask him what he thought, he would’ve stared at them dumbly and then shook his head.
Benoit took the papers. He signed them, stabbing into the sheets, then gave them back a little roughly.
“Enjoy defiling the memory of yet another respected soul,” he said, spitting venom.
“You know I always do,” Melvin said, marching soundly to Jean’s body. He nudged him with his foot, as though he were double checking, then gave them – more specially, gave Benoit – a perky thumbs-up. Moments after, he crumpled into a heap and didn’t move.
“Deplorable,” Benoit muttered, mostly to himself. “Nothing is sacred anymore.”
It wasn’t hard to see Melvin and ‘sacred’ weren’t on speaking terms. Jason kept that to himself, however. Instead he asked, “What’s he doing?”
“Transferring.” He gruffly pulled out a cigarette. “Just once, I wish we had a fan around. Or a breeze. Or a tornado.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Benoit pointed, before lighting up and turning away. Jason looked and squinted at the bodies. A mist had formed around both of them, bright purple and smoky. It seemed to be heavier on Melvin’s half, but that quickly evened out, then shifted so most of it – then all of it – was swirling around Jean. It vanished soon after that. A split instant before Jason opened his mouth to ask what it was, the Flunky started moving. One arm planted itself on the ground, then the other, and then he was rolling onto his feet and... smiling. It was the same one Melvin had.
“Hey, hey, hey! Look at me! I’m a muscle man! I can break bricks on my eyelids!” No accent, no sneer, simply that smile. He reached over to Melvin’s body and picked up the rectangular glasses, slipping them on and adding an entirely new dynamic to the man’s face. Then he started flexing. “I bet I could choke an elephant with my toe! Hey, what’s he got down there? Can I get a bathroom break or what?” He cracked up over that. No, wait, he was laughing at Benoit. “Oh, don’t look so violated, Benny! I’m just playing around. This is the nicest gift you’ve ever given me. I’ll take good care of it, at least until Xander shows up and kills the guy again. Ha, ha, ha! Seriously though, I’m sorry for your loss.” He clapped his hands together, ready to get to work. “So where’s everyone headed? Shotgun!”
* * *
This...
Was...
... Different.
That pain, that mind-rending, thought-slashing, heart-tearing pain, was gone. But it wasn’t gone. That was the thing. He knew he should’ve still been in agony, but it really only felt like... like he was in a big, white nothingness with eternity stretched around him. It was nothing like it’d been before. He didn’t have a body, so that part was the same, but now he was fully cut off from anything he’d had access to before. There were no eyes to see out of, no ears to hear from, and only now did he realize Gwen had built some sort of bond between them, because it was gone. And he wasn’t sure if he should’ve been worried.
He felt so relaxed, so peaceful. He should’ve been panicking and scrambling to get back to reality, but it seemed absurd to even consider it. He wasn’t happy here – he wouldn’t go that far – but he was certainly comfortable. He could hear a light hum around him, droning on and lulling him to sleep. Alex knew it wouldn’t happen. Wherever ‘here’ was, he didn’t have to sleep. He didn’t have to do anything, and that... That was okay.
The hum went on for a while. He glad for it. He wasn’t sure what had happened with the ‘headache’, but if it wasn’t over, it wasn’t bothering him anymore. A mild concern crept through the serenity over whether or not he’d been the only one to feel it. He had the faintest doubt that Gwen had been able to pull away before she got a dose. If she had, he wondered if she hadn’t tried to connect with him since and make sure he was alright. Oh, Gwen. She was so wonderful. She was a woman who’d risk her own well-being to make sure he was looked after. She impressed him. She put up with all this insanity, with Xander, and she was staying around for more. It went further than simply needing them to escape the Agents. She cared about him – cared about them both, and right now, in the midst of this, he didn’t mind if she liked Xander more than him. Just getting to be around her like this was... Well, it was more than he could’ve imagined. And he was grateful. He was eternally grateful.
Eternity...
The eternity was shrinking. He felt heavier. He realized he was breathing, and he was breathing heavily. And... hoarsely. And slowly. Except it wasn’t him breathing, he... Xander. Xander was breathing. And Alex could feel it happening.
Oh, good. It's fixed.
Shattered. Completely shattered. Alex was coughing and wheezing and pain surged through him again, but not in his head. Okay, a little in his head, but it wasn’t that searing that it’d been before. It was like he’d smashed it into something, and his throat felt like it’d collapsed on itself. God – the pain around it, and his back and his legs and his arm –
“Wha –”
Fire. Fire on everything. He’d been half-standing, he noted. Now he fell, suddenly, violently. He kept coughing.
Breathe. Remember to breathe. The voice felt like it was from a dream. In, out, in, out. This is basic stuff. Gotta get used to it again.
The white nothingness faded. Now he was staring at a gray ground. He saw his hand...
His hand!
Wait. Wait a minute.
“I’m –” Fire, more fire.
Take it easy. You didn’t get your body back to die on me now. Slowly. Breathe.
Xander was talking him through it. He was keeping Alex focused. His eyes closed and he tried to block everything out. Breathe, he told himself. The pain in his neck couldn’t stop him from breathing. His toe was going to fall off. No – breathe. Try to breathe. Worry about that later.
He felt Gwen around him again. That relaxed him. It seemed to lighten the air for him and make it easier. He wanted to say something, probably ask what was going on, but he couldn’t manage a noise right now. Coughing was torture.
His neck would be alright. It would heal pretty quickly.
He’ll be fine. I was fine. Necks are durable. He’d put that to the test. And I don’t think energy’s going to be a problem for a while. Ol’ Alex’s got his body back. Yaaaaay!
Yaaaaaay!
Still, I’d like to know how much damage it did. I know it was only a day, but if what that David guy said was true...
Cough. Cough. Felt like phlegm, tasted like blood.
About what happened in there, two things: whatever those stupid French lenses did to me – him – to get us stuck like that must’ve... reversed... magically... after I broke through them. The ‘I told them it was a dumb idea’ went unsaid, but blatantly so. Second thing? He thought about it. I don’t know. It’s never happened before. But I bet it looked awesome and I missed it. How hard is it to get a camera in there to film? Geez. Oh – and Nathan. Yeah – I don’t know what his deal was. Weird, though. Let’s not run into him again.
Xander was answering questions Alex hadn’t heard Gwen ask. How long had he been in that nothing-room? When and how did they get outside? Were they safe? Were they being chased?
... Was his toe going to fall off?
Out of control for one day and it was like he’d had a truck run over him. Granted, if it’d been him in charge, whatever crazy fight that’d gone on might’ve ended much worse. He very silently thanked Xander, but he was never going to mention it.
As for what we should do next, Charlton seems like the place to go. We find that base, waltz inside, find my body, and then if you want to go back and help the banshee out with her problem, we could find a way – maybe – to do that, too. Maybe. They might actually get security now that it’s not a trap.
Aha. So it was too easy.
“Hospit...”
Alex wants to go to the hospital. If a voice could nonchalantly shrug, that’s what Xander did. Your call. Let’s get some coffee, though. Two days and no Starbucks. You people are horrible to me.
He opened his eyes. Things looked clear enough to take in. They were in an alley of some kind and it was still day, though probably getting late in the afternoon. And Gwen, she seemed tired. Crap. Something had happened and he hadn’t been there to help.
Stephanie, Xander said, slowly, like he was moving onto a topic he wasn’t convinced he should dwell on. Don’t listen to what Agents say. They’re crazy. And they’re liars.
Xander was an Agent.
“You...”
Case in point. I’m the biggest liar you two will ever meet. Trust me the least, he told them. His voice was light, but he was serious. That seeped into his next words. I don’t know what she said or how she put anything in your head. I can guess, obviously, and I can stab at what the thought was. So... try not to panic, but... don’t rule it out... What was he talking about? That’s the sort of web the Agency loves to weave. If they can get you fear your shadow, they have you. But, sometimes... there really is a guy hiding in the dark with a knife.
“What... are –”
I’m just trying to say not to follow anyone blindly, he went on. Even me. Especially me. I get that I don’t make it easy, but when it comes down to it, I’ve got the most to gain from all this. They know that. I know that. It’s about time both of you got it through your heads. ... And maybe it’s about time for you to think about what you’d have to do.
Xander didn’t sound like he was trying to scare them. He was being careful. He was giving them answers he didn’t really want them to have but, out of kindness or loyalty or outright stupidity, was handing them over anyway. Alex took them sombrely. Yeah, he knew what Xander meant. On that off-chance the Agents made an offer ‘he couldn’t refuse’, he wanted them to have an escape plan in place. Bold thing to say, but it somehow many Alex trust the guy a bit more. After all, why in hell would he say he was capable of turning on them if he was actually going to turn on them?
“... You aren’t...”
No. I’m not. But don’t take my word for it. He relented. Fine, let’s go to the hospital. The baby needs a band-aid.
“Thanks...”
He'd better still have a toe.
Last edited by Tartra on Thu Jan 20, 2011 4:18 pm; edited 1 time in total
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Fri Sep 03, 2010 8:20 pm
It felt as if he were shrinking smaller or moving backwards and Gwen looked at him sharply as he started coughing again. Was he...disappearing? But then there was someone in his place and immediately she knew who it was but she couldn't believe it. The change that came over him was practically on a physical level, the way he held himself completely different from the way Xander stood and gestured. And pain was registering all over throughout his body as he wobbled on his feet and fell to the ground as if someone abruptly smacked him with a hammer like a whack-a-mole.
"Alex!" she exclaimed as she rushed forward to kneel by his side
Someone passing by the alley had noticed the sudden movement and noise, but they couldn't be bothered enough to stop and see if she needed help. Her eyes wandered worriedly over his features as his vision slowly cleared and she could hear Xander's voice echoing inside his head. They'd switched places! He was back! As he slowly came back to himself and struggled to speak, she looked him over with a mixture of pure adoring joy and mooning tenderness over the pain that was currently assaulting him and keeping him from returning completely to her. Even as she listened to Xander answer her questions, her eyes were all for Alex and she couldn't stop smiling.
The joy of his return overwhelmed her then and suddenly she found herself with lips latched onto his, kissing him beneath the brunette curtain of her shoulder-length hair. Her lips were gentle yet insistent as they moved and stroked against his, tugging and suckling lightly, her hands running through his hair over and over and lightly tugging on the darkened locks in a passionate need to touch him. Gwen did not break away from him as her hands moved down to touch him, rubbing at his chest and shoulders, feeling his arms hesitate over holding her slender body. She didn't give him long to think it over before she realized she was hurting him - well, he was hurting all over and she wasn't helping things by smooching him and rubbing at him - and she finally pulled away. It wasn't until she was looking at him with tears streaming down her cheeks that she realized she'd been crying at all.
"Sorry..." she said a little breathlessly, smiling sheepishly as she wiped at her face. "It's just... I was so scared he was going to get you killed before I could ever see you again. Before I got a chance to..." It had been an ever present fear that suddenly Xander would collapse in the street and not wake up again, leaving her alone, Alex left somewhere on the wind. Or that possibly he'd go fighting someone else and end up killing the whole damn body beyond repair. As it was, he'd gotten pretty frigging close. But Alex was back! He was here and it would all be alright now. They were together again and she didn't have to be alone.
As her tears cleared and she sniffled and weakly laughed the vestiges of her sadness away, she registered all of the things Xander had said. Alright, weird power thing was new, they were not going to run into Nathan again, and they could never trust Agents, not even him. Got it. And great, so he was basically letting her know that she had been right to be suspicious and paranoid about him. Strangely she was not mad at him for being disloyal to the little group the three of them had formed together. What she was mad about was the fact that going to Charlton would basically be helping him too and could and probably would end up being their downfall.
She felt a surge of protectiveness flash through her at the thought of him doing something to Alex. She was so sick of this! Now that she had him back, she was not going to let Xander or anybody ruin anything else for them. Since he was only looking out for himself, she wasn't even going to really consider him in their plans anymore. He had now become an after-thought and a threat and they would deal with him when they had no other choice, just to shut him up and keep him happy. But no matter what, she was not going to let them have Alex. They'd need to kill her first.
That brought up thoughts of his current state of being and she delved deep into his body, wincing harshly as she felt the pain from getting brutally beaten by Agent Hercules. He needed a hospital and professional care - there was too much wrong that she didn't know how to fix. But looking back at the now cloaked entryway to the labs, she knew they didn't have time. They couldn't stay in the city and it was very important for them to make it in and out of Charlton before the Agents got there. Otherwise, they'd find themselves walking into a hornets nest and unable to get out again, let alone achieve what they were going there for in the first place.
Turning back to Alex her eyes met his with an anxious, yet very direct look. "I'm sorry... We can't go to the hospital right now. I probably made us late enough as it is," it was a subtle reference to her taking the time to make-out with him - how long had their lips been locked? It felt like it had gone on for hours. She could still taste him and the slight metallic bitterness of the blood still in his mouth, her lips feeling slightly puffy as she ran her tongue over the bottom one as if she were just wetting it. "Any more delays and we might as well forget the whole thing with how hard they're going to make it on us." she looked him up and down again and focused on his neck, arm and then his toe before she looked him in the eyes again, her gaze filling with cerulean blue.
"You need to feel better now and we need to hurry and get out of here. We have to leave your pain behind so we can make it through this." Her voice took on an echoed tone as if it were bouncing off the walls of the alley and still swirling in the air around them. Gwen felt it in her tongue and mouth like a numb buzzing but she did not hear it. So she shrugged and cast it out of her mind as an after-effect of the kiss they'd shared.
Glancing towards the alleyway mouth, she once again spied the bus station and she could sense it from here - none of the buses idling right now would leave the city, and any of the others that would needed a ticket to get them out of here. And that might involve a bit of waiting as different schedules were considered. Reaching out further, Gwen couldn't sense if there was a taxi service here or not - the city seemed big enough, but the few people walking near enough for her to reach were either content with walking or took the buses on a regular basis. She did however know that there was a coffee shop a few blocks from here. Not Starbucks. Great, Xander would not be happy.
Turning back to Alex, the tears on her face had dried and she tucked her hair behind her ear as she spoke, "There's a coffee shop nearby but it's not the right one... And the bus station is the nearest transportation to getting us out of here." She paused and bit her lip worriedly. "What do you want to do? Are you going to be alright enough to get out of the city now?"
As he gave a more detailed report to Benoit, Stephanie made note of every minuscule expression that passed over his face and felt a tremble of excitement to see him upset about Gwen rewriting the goggles enough to work for her. Poor baby, she thought with an internal smirk. Outwardly her expression remained stoic as ever, even as she internally raised an eyebrow at the description of Alexander's "new" powers, which Benoit was intent on denying. If anyone should know all that Alexander was capable of, it would be the other Lead Agent. On the other hand, Jason had been down here and she trusted his observational skills. Added onto this new development was a bit of worry that whatever Alexander had done might have had an effect on Gwen's powers that she had not accounted for - enough power to be visually seen when his abilities were not normally visible - there was no way that her target had not been affected by that. But how much? Would it be enough for her to reach the final stages or did they still have time?
A ripple went through her inner layers as a new voice was added to the atmosphere and they all turned to regard a stranger approaching them from down the hallway. It was not someone she immediately recognized, but from his general appearance, she guessed that he was a lab tech. As he continued to speak and she watched Benoit's reactions to the man, she quickly amended her first impressions. There was a history there and immediately she recognized a certain degree of deference in Benoit's posture and expressions even if they came out twisted with chagrin and loathing. So, she figured out that the man was higher up on the foodchain than any of them even before Jason started asking questions and the man explained exactly how high he was. Also, right away, Stephanie felt a wave of fondness for him.
As the conversation between the newcomer, Eric, and Benoit evolved she experienced a great deal of delight watching as the Lead Agent with whom she and her partner had been traveling became completely ruffled and helpless in the face of the other man's authority. She did not particularly care for the boisterous amount of emotion the man showed - kissing her hand was completely inappropriate, but she allowed it while staring at him in a bored manner - and it disgusted her how incredibly obnoxious he was... But there was something underneath that she liked about it. It was as if the emotions he displayed were both genuine and a mask - something malicious, threatening, and pathological beneath the surface of every smile and cheerfully said word. His energy as chaotic and completely unprofessional as she found it, was strangely magnetic.
She could have been wrong about the undercurrent she sensed, but she doubted it, especially with the flippant manner in which he hungered after the body of their fallen comrade - barely grown cold yet from hitting the ground without a soul. Stephanie had very little respect for the dead, herself, but there was something delightfully sinister in the way this man worked. Everything he said was a manipulation, even him complimenting her was intended to strike through the cold exterior of her multi-layered psyche and set her at ease - she wouldn't admit it, not even to herself, but his lips lightly brushing the back of her hand had sent a flutter in her gut. Even so, she'd idly brushed her hand against the bottom hems of her suit jacket in a gesture that could have been her smoothing out wrinkles or wiping the sensation of his touch and kiss away.
And learning about who he actually was - not just his rank within the Agency but his actual field of expertise - Stephanie's eyes widened just a smidgen and her heart began pounding heavily in her chest. Of course! The man was a legend and here she was meeting him! Everything she'd ever wish to know about the body transfer process, he would know - there was so much she wanted to ask him! But before she could get the chance, he was joyously gushing over something new he'd developed as he called forth a familiar face from around the corner he'd come from.
There was no mistaking the child she'd originally worked with, his features obscured by a layer of dirt and filth, now grown into a young man. The years had been hard on him apparently, his body slender beyond what was healthy and his skin and clothes covered in grime, not to mention the current state he was in with the headband he had on. Intrigued, she waited eagerly for Eric to eventually reveal it's purpose, but other than sparking her interest further, he let the secret lie, dangling the hidden knowledge before them. That was annoying, but then she forgot all about being irritated when he mentioned that he was coming with them.
Even as Benoit said "No" Stephanie was thinking an excited "Yes!" in response to such a plan of action. He'd be traveling with them! A higher level Agent and not only that but the original genius behind the transfer program! And despite Benoit's resistance, it didn't take long for Eric to shut the man up with another jolt of manipulation and a hint of distraction that was wonderful to see register as a bad taste in Benoit's mouth. Not only would this trip become productive on a whole other level with an A-1 helping and guiding them, but it would be entertaining as hell. And what better way to occupy her time than to be given a show and a toy while in pursuit of her target?
Cold as ever, she watched with awe buzzing in her internal layers as Eric proceeded over to Jean's body and after a few moments fell to the ground in a heap. Her eyes never left the spectacle as the hazy purple cloud appeared and moved progressively from one body to the next and she blinked in a minor show of surprise as Jean sat up with a wide grin on his face. God, that was beautiful. She could not help the admiration that flowed through her as she watched him talk and then rise up from his sitting position, seamlessly fitting into the body that was not his. And at that moment she not only felt an intense amount of respect for him, but she was even a bit jealous. How she wanted that - to wear someone else's skin. To become someone else... She yearned for it so much it made her heart ache painfully. Soon, she reminded herself. It will all be mine too very, very soon.
As he turned to the rest of them with that ever-ready grin on his borrowed face, Stephanie glanced at Benoit for just a split second before stepping forward and speaking. "I cannot speak for my colleagues, but I am very glad you'll be joining us," from her monotone, one would not have been able to guess that she was feeling anything other than bored. Which was exactly why she'd stated aloud her own feelings regarding his presence. "I will admit that I'm experiencing a bit of a fangirl moment for having the opportunity to meet you." There was no squealing or giggling though - nothing but a blank emotionless stare. "I hope you will not be averse to me picking your brain while you're with us. Anything you'd be willing to share about your particular skill-set, I'd love to hear about it." Affection was not expressed in any sense of the word, as the deadpan voice continued on.
"As for where we are headed, we are now in phase two of a plan that was developed on the way here, the first part of which was allowing the targets access to this lab for the sole purpose of directing them to Charlton - where the target, Alexander's, body is going to be. Phase two involves waiting for Alexander to be in the middle of transferring Alexander the guest back into his original body, giving my partner and I an opportune moment to take advantage of Stewart's vulnerability and isolation to capture her while at the same time leaving Alexander vulnerable as well. It is for this reason that pursuing the targets is not the important part of the plan, but rather meeting them there. I have complete confidence in the abilities of this plan to work, particularly since I've recently weakened my target's emotional resolve and thrown a wrench into the relationship dynamic between the two targets."
She paused and glanced around dully before meeting the man's gaze again. "We have a car waiting outside."
"Alex!" she exclaimed as she rushed forward to kneel by his side
Someone passing by the alley had noticed the sudden movement and noise, but they couldn't be bothered enough to stop and see if she needed help. Her eyes wandered worriedly over his features as his vision slowly cleared and she could hear Xander's voice echoing inside his head. They'd switched places! He was back! As he slowly came back to himself and struggled to speak, she looked him over with a mixture of pure adoring joy and mooning tenderness over the pain that was currently assaulting him and keeping him from returning completely to her. Even as she listened to Xander answer her questions, her eyes were all for Alex and she couldn't stop smiling.
The joy of his return overwhelmed her then and suddenly she found herself with lips latched onto his, kissing him beneath the brunette curtain of her shoulder-length hair. Her lips were gentle yet insistent as they moved and stroked against his, tugging and suckling lightly, her hands running through his hair over and over and lightly tugging on the darkened locks in a passionate need to touch him. Gwen did not break away from him as her hands moved down to touch him, rubbing at his chest and shoulders, feeling his arms hesitate over holding her slender body. She didn't give him long to think it over before she realized she was hurting him - well, he was hurting all over and she wasn't helping things by smooching him and rubbing at him - and she finally pulled away. It wasn't until she was looking at him with tears streaming down her cheeks that she realized she'd been crying at all.
"Sorry..." she said a little breathlessly, smiling sheepishly as she wiped at her face. "It's just... I was so scared he was going to get you killed before I could ever see you again. Before I got a chance to..." It had been an ever present fear that suddenly Xander would collapse in the street and not wake up again, leaving her alone, Alex left somewhere on the wind. Or that possibly he'd go fighting someone else and end up killing the whole damn body beyond repair. As it was, he'd gotten pretty frigging close. But Alex was back! He was here and it would all be alright now. They were together again and she didn't have to be alone.
As her tears cleared and she sniffled and weakly laughed the vestiges of her sadness away, she registered all of the things Xander had said. Alright, weird power thing was new, they were not going to run into Nathan again, and they could never trust Agents, not even him. Got it. And great, so he was basically letting her know that she had been right to be suspicious and paranoid about him. Strangely she was not mad at him for being disloyal to the little group the three of them had formed together. What she was mad about was the fact that going to Charlton would basically be helping him too and could and probably would end up being their downfall.
She felt a surge of protectiveness flash through her at the thought of him doing something to Alex. She was so sick of this! Now that she had him back, she was not going to let Xander or anybody ruin anything else for them. Since he was only looking out for himself, she wasn't even going to really consider him in their plans anymore. He had now become an after-thought and a threat and they would deal with him when they had no other choice, just to shut him up and keep him happy. But no matter what, she was not going to let them have Alex. They'd need to kill her first.
That brought up thoughts of his current state of being and she delved deep into his body, wincing harshly as she felt the pain from getting brutally beaten by Agent Hercules. He needed a hospital and professional care - there was too much wrong that she didn't know how to fix. But looking back at the now cloaked entryway to the labs, she knew they didn't have time. They couldn't stay in the city and it was very important for them to make it in and out of Charlton before the Agents got there. Otherwise, they'd find themselves walking into a hornets nest and unable to get out again, let alone achieve what they were going there for in the first place.
Turning back to Alex her eyes met his with an anxious, yet very direct look. "I'm sorry... We can't go to the hospital right now. I probably made us late enough as it is," it was a subtle reference to her taking the time to make-out with him - how long had their lips been locked? It felt like it had gone on for hours. She could still taste him and the slight metallic bitterness of the blood still in his mouth, her lips feeling slightly puffy as she ran her tongue over the bottom one as if she were just wetting it. "Any more delays and we might as well forget the whole thing with how hard they're going to make it on us." she looked him up and down again and focused on his neck, arm and then his toe before she looked him in the eyes again, her gaze filling with cerulean blue.
"You need to feel better now and we need to hurry and get out of here. We have to leave your pain behind so we can make it through this." Her voice took on an echoed tone as if it were bouncing off the walls of the alley and still swirling in the air around them. Gwen felt it in her tongue and mouth like a numb buzzing but she did not hear it. So she shrugged and cast it out of her mind as an after-effect of the kiss they'd shared.
Glancing towards the alleyway mouth, she once again spied the bus station and she could sense it from here - none of the buses idling right now would leave the city, and any of the others that would needed a ticket to get them out of here. And that might involve a bit of waiting as different schedules were considered. Reaching out further, Gwen couldn't sense if there was a taxi service here or not - the city seemed big enough, but the few people walking near enough for her to reach were either content with walking or took the buses on a regular basis. She did however know that there was a coffee shop a few blocks from here. Not Starbucks. Great, Xander would not be happy.
Turning back to Alex, the tears on her face had dried and she tucked her hair behind her ear as she spoke, "There's a coffee shop nearby but it's not the right one... And the bus station is the nearest transportation to getting us out of here." She paused and bit her lip worriedly. "What do you want to do? Are you going to be alright enough to get out of the city now?"
***
Slightly dismayed that there was no audible response to her assault on his scalp - and barely a flicker of emotion registered upon his face - she listened to Jason's report patiently, nodding her head slightly as she looked around. Everything was going according to the bigger plan - well except for Jean's death of course, but she didn't really experience any loss for him. Not like Benoit apparently was. If anything, Jason had been the one she hadn't expected to survive - in her mind she envisioned stepping from the elevator only to be told by the bodies laying about that while Jason had been engaging the target, Alexander had dealt with Jean and came after Jason as well in some grand display of heroics on her behalf. With the current scene and Jason still conscious it made her wonder what had really happened to facilitate the targets' escape. Although it made her incredibly suspicious, she was glad to see him still alive.As he gave a more detailed report to Benoit, Stephanie made note of every minuscule expression that passed over his face and felt a tremble of excitement to see him upset about Gwen rewriting the goggles enough to work for her. Poor baby, she thought with an internal smirk. Outwardly her expression remained stoic as ever, even as she internally raised an eyebrow at the description of Alexander's "new" powers, which Benoit was intent on denying. If anyone should know all that Alexander was capable of, it would be the other Lead Agent. On the other hand, Jason had been down here and she trusted his observational skills. Added onto this new development was a bit of worry that whatever Alexander had done might have had an effect on Gwen's powers that she had not accounted for - enough power to be visually seen when his abilities were not normally visible - there was no way that her target had not been affected by that. But how much? Would it be enough for her to reach the final stages or did they still have time?
A ripple went through her inner layers as a new voice was added to the atmosphere and they all turned to regard a stranger approaching them from down the hallway. It was not someone she immediately recognized, but from his general appearance, she guessed that he was a lab tech. As he continued to speak and she watched Benoit's reactions to the man, she quickly amended her first impressions. There was a history there and immediately she recognized a certain degree of deference in Benoit's posture and expressions even if they came out twisted with chagrin and loathing. So, she figured out that the man was higher up on the foodchain than any of them even before Jason started asking questions and the man explained exactly how high he was. Also, right away, Stephanie felt a wave of fondness for him.
As the conversation between the newcomer, Eric, and Benoit evolved she experienced a great deal of delight watching as the Lead Agent with whom she and her partner had been traveling became completely ruffled and helpless in the face of the other man's authority. She did not particularly care for the boisterous amount of emotion the man showed - kissing her hand was completely inappropriate, but she allowed it while staring at him in a bored manner - and it disgusted her how incredibly obnoxious he was... But there was something underneath that she liked about it. It was as if the emotions he displayed were both genuine and a mask - something malicious, threatening, and pathological beneath the surface of every smile and cheerfully said word. His energy as chaotic and completely unprofessional as she found it, was strangely magnetic.
She could have been wrong about the undercurrent she sensed, but she doubted it, especially with the flippant manner in which he hungered after the body of their fallen comrade - barely grown cold yet from hitting the ground without a soul. Stephanie had very little respect for the dead, herself, but there was something delightfully sinister in the way this man worked. Everything he said was a manipulation, even him complimenting her was intended to strike through the cold exterior of her multi-layered psyche and set her at ease - she wouldn't admit it, not even to herself, but his lips lightly brushing the back of her hand had sent a flutter in her gut. Even so, she'd idly brushed her hand against the bottom hems of her suit jacket in a gesture that could have been her smoothing out wrinkles or wiping the sensation of his touch and kiss away.
And learning about who he actually was - not just his rank within the Agency but his actual field of expertise - Stephanie's eyes widened just a smidgen and her heart began pounding heavily in her chest. Of course! The man was a legend and here she was meeting him! Everything she'd ever wish to know about the body transfer process, he would know - there was so much she wanted to ask him! But before she could get the chance, he was joyously gushing over something new he'd developed as he called forth a familiar face from around the corner he'd come from.
There was no mistaking the child she'd originally worked with, his features obscured by a layer of dirt and filth, now grown into a young man. The years had been hard on him apparently, his body slender beyond what was healthy and his skin and clothes covered in grime, not to mention the current state he was in with the headband he had on. Intrigued, she waited eagerly for Eric to eventually reveal it's purpose, but other than sparking her interest further, he let the secret lie, dangling the hidden knowledge before them. That was annoying, but then she forgot all about being irritated when he mentioned that he was coming with them.
Even as Benoit said "No" Stephanie was thinking an excited "Yes!" in response to such a plan of action. He'd be traveling with them! A higher level Agent and not only that but the original genius behind the transfer program! And despite Benoit's resistance, it didn't take long for Eric to shut the man up with another jolt of manipulation and a hint of distraction that was wonderful to see register as a bad taste in Benoit's mouth. Not only would this trip become productive on a whole other level with an A-1 helping and guiding them, but it would be entertaining as hell. And what better way to occupy her time than to be given a show and a toy while in pursuit of her target?
Cold as ever, she watched with awe buzzing in her internal layers as Eric proceeded over to Jean's body and after a few moments fell to the ground in a heap. Her eyes never left the spectacle as the hazy purple cloud appeared and moved progressively from one body to the next and she blinked in a minor show of surprise as Jean sat up with a wide grin on his face. God, that was beautiful. She could not help the admiration that flowed through her as she watched him talk and then rise up from his sitting position, seamlessly fitting into the body that was not his. And at that moment she not only felt an intense amount of respect for him, but she was even a bit jealous. How she wanted that - to wear someone else's skin. To become someone else... She yearned for it so much it made her heart ache painfully. Soon, she reminded herself. It will all be mine too very, very soon.
As he turned to the rest of them with that ever-ready grin on his borrowed face, Stephanie glanced at Benoit for just a split second before stepping forward and speaking. "I cannot speak for my colleagues, but I am very glad you'll be joining us," from her monotone, one would not have been able to guess that she was feeling anything other than bored. Which was exactly why she'd stated aloud her own feelings regarding his presence. "I will admit that I'm experiencing a bit of a fangirl moment for having the opportunity to meet you." There was no squealing or giggling though - nothing but a blank emotionless stare. "I hope you will not be averse to me picking your brain while you're with us. Anything you'd be willing to share about your particular skill-set, I'd love to hear about it." Affection was not expressed in any sense of the word, as the deadpan voice continued on.
"As for where we are headed, we are now in phase two of a plan that was developed on the way here, the first part of which was allowing the targets access to this lab for the sole purpose of directing them to Charlton - where the target, Alexander's, body is going to be. Phase two involves waiting for Alexander to be in the middle of transferring Alexander the guest back into his original body, giving my partner and I an opportune moment to take advantage of Stewart's vulnerability and isolation to capture her while at the same time leaving Alexander vulnerable as well. It is for this reason that pursuing the targets is not the important part of the plan, but rather meeting them there. I have complete confidence in the abilities of this plan to work, particularly since I've recently weakened my target's emotional resolve and thrown a wrench into the relationship dynamic between the two targets."
She paused and glanced around dully before meeting the man's gaze again. "We have a car waiting outside."
Last edited by TimeOfTheEye on Tue Sep 07, 2010 11:50 pm; edited 1 time in total
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Tue Sep 07, 2010 11:15 pm
He wasn’t sure about this. Her and him, his lead and the A-1... Maybe it was the way her eyes had glued to him the minute he stepped on the scene. Maybe it was the way she’d seemed to need to stand out as the most welcoming of all of them. Maybe it had to do with her actually saying – with a straight face, but when did that change – the word ‘fangirl’ and meaning it. Whatever it was, all of them, none of them, some combination, Jason felt wary. Melvin or not-Jean was getting a lot of her attention and it was a little unfair he didn’t have to work for it. Jason couldn’t blame him. As an A-1, Melvin-Jean-Eric-Jeffrey was supposed to command total respect. Plus he seemed like a... decent enough person. That was something extra rare because the A-1 level of Agents – the few of them deigned skilled enough to merit such an enormously powerful ranking – were known to be the most ruthless the Agency had to offer, and here the man had taken it upon himself to ask some A-5’s name. A-5 Special, since he had a suit, but all the same, Jason was sort of looking forward to working with him.
‘Glad’. Yeah. He’d take her word on that.
“My dear lady, if there is ever the smallest question on your lovely mind, don’t wait to ask,” Eric said, shining like a shard of the sun. “I’m here to help – or stand back and watch, ‘cause I am blown away by how spectacularly you three put this plan together. Ambush in Charlton? Genius. Who came up with that? I love ‘em – and I tell ya, I’ve been around the past couple of months to check in on some of the other groups.” He winced, shook his head, and hissed out a pained breath. “Not lookin’ good. Butchered beyond belief, most of ‘em. You know some Agents’ve been chasing their targets for six years?” Benoit glared. The look sent Eric laughing, and with his newly established body, he threw a gigantic arm over the Frenchman’s shoulders and pulled him in for a crushing side-hug. “I’m just joshin’ you, Benny! You got a hard kid to catch! I’m surprised you made it thisfar.”
Benoit was murderous.
“Eric,” he said stiffly, “let me go.”
“Sure thing! But Ms. March – Stephanie’s fine I hope, and feel free to give me whatever name you like, but not ‘Jean’, I guess – I’m joking. You’re too uptight, Benoit, and we’ve gotta work on that – Stephanie!” He bowed his head. “I am impressed, to put it simply. Never have I heard of something so elaborate being slapped together to catch a girl whose powers aren’t even active.”
“They’re active,” Jason said. He flinched when the A-1’s eyes switched to his, in full view now that he was wearing normal, thick-stemmed glasses. He made himself relax when he realized how open the look was. Nothing to fear so long as they were on the same side, but something told him it’d be in their best interest – and for more reasons than career development – to stay in Eric’s good graces. Not that it felt hard. Jason was energized just by being around him, and he confidently went on to explain, “Our target’s powers very recently turned active.”
“Oh?” It wasn’t Eric’s fault. Jason hadn’t been updating the report. He’d been distracted, what with his goggles and everything... “Well – damn! I came at the fun bit, didn’t I? So how far along is she? Fully functioning? Barely crawling? Somewhere neatly in-between?”
“Ah...” His lead would have to field that one. For now, Jason offered a quick, “She’s not at full power.”
“Ooooooh – I hate that,” Eric said, but the grin on his face played with the news as if it was the greatest thing he’d heard all year. “When there’s one last trick up their sleeve? They hide it ‘til the end, ‘til you give up and think ‘if she’s not using it now, she never will’, then they wait for you to go in for the kill and – BAM! Head explodes. Yours, I mean, not theirs, ‘cause how much harder would this job be, right?”
“Significantly less,” Benoit said. “In case you still fail to grasp the bitter concept, our work is not for fun. We are trying to keep the world from falling at the hands of idiots who cannot control themselves. If they all decided to kill each other, there would be no need for us.”
“So serious,” Eric said. “We should get you a little cape saying ‘Captain Killjoy’. You can fight crime with the power of making people feel bad about enjoying a nice day.”
“There has been nothing ‘nice’ about today,” Benoit snarled. His teeth were grinding around the cigarette in his mouth. “I pray you remember not everyone shares your sick sense of adventure.”
Sharper than ever, Benoit turned on his heel and stalked to the elevator, losing a touch of that Agency-bred grace as he threw his hand on the switch. He wasn’t waiting for them, clearly, and Jason swore the man would’ve flipped the A-1 off if he’d been in any body other than his old friend’s, rank be damned. It stung. ‘Resonated’ was more the word, probably. Jason felt bad. The Flunky had been an asshole and he was relieved to be rid of him – and gaining Eric was a massive improvement – but he’d been getting along with Frenchie. It was too bad there was no one left on his team, courtesy of Alexander picking them off one by one, but if Benoit truly needed someone to... well – Agents never ‘talked’ to each other about anything, so whatever the next closest alternative to that was, Jason hoped the lead had someone there to help him.
“I remember when I first met Jean,” Eric said, sagely. “Young guy, half this size, greener than the Irish at Oktoberfest – wait, that’s German – but – still, showing potential. Good Agent, as it turned out. Never had a chance to officially chat with him, but competent and obedient and what more could you want in hired help?” He clapped Jean’s hands together. “Enough of that! That’s depressing! Let’s focus on getting this done. Jason!”
“Yes, sir?”
That sent a flutter through Eric’s face, who ‘awww’ed at the show of respect and only stopped himself from patting Jason on the head because he could’ve crushed his skull with the massive hand. Instead, he asked, “You mind givin’ me a quick recap on what’s been happening so far? Don’t wanna miss some crazy ‘don’t wear red or your bones will melt!’ super-trivia about Miss. Stewart. Got some insight into what ol’ Alex can do, so you can numb the details on him.”
“Even the charging?”
“What charging?”
So nobody knew about it?
“Jean died because of some built-up release of energy from Alexander,” Jason said. “He was supposed to – Jean was – be protected by lenses Benoit had ordered to counter the abilities.” Eric looked utterly lost. “The lenses. They’re contact lenses. He and Benoit wore them under their sunglasses. You should be wearing them now.”
Eric poked his eyeball, then shrugged and said, “Nope.”
“Well –” He wasn’t crazy! Even if he didn’t have proof of the charging, his lead and Benoit would confirm the lenses. It was all they’d talk about. “Let me... just...” He walked over to the fallen body of Melvin and began to hunt around it, almost expecting the answer to pop out at him.
“What was that about ‘built up’?”
“He – Alexander – started making a whirring noise,” Jason said, refusing to give up his search. “His eyes started glowing, the whirring got louder, there was a flash of light, and then Jean died.” The sunglasses. They were beside the wall, either lost when the Flunky had fallen or cast off when Eric had put on his glasses. Jason picked them up and turned them over. “They’re... melted.”
“Melted? Really?”
No, not really. Not exactly. It seemed more as though they’d been pierced, as if someone had jammed a pole through the centre and pushed. The plastic, hard as it was, had given way to a sharply defined hole. He didn’t know what to make of it. He would’ve liked to have gotten Benoit’s opinion, show him the new development, but even if the man had been down here instead of waiting for them upstairs, he might’ve been too busy grieving to bother with something like this. He hadn’t seemed to have had a lot of patience for the mere suggestion of it. He’d shut Jason down the moment he’d brought it up. Eric, however, seemed very intrigued, and he stood by Jason’s lead as he enthusiastically gestured for the pierced shades to come over.
“Here,” he said, unsure of how to explain it. He’d said the most he could say, after all. “I guess it must’ve destroyed the lenses, then.”
“Maybe, maybe,” Eric happily mused. He ran a finger over the back of the puncture. “This is certainly new.” His face lit up like a firework. “What’d I tell ya? They wait for you to think you’re safe, then they burn a hole through your brain. Let’s keep this in mind from now on, lady and gent.”
“So the lenses are useless,” Jason muttered.
“He always thought so. He’s very quick to chuck ideas, even when they’re his,” Eric said. “A mirrored surface was what Xander used to catch Alex in the first place. Everyone was thrilled to’ve found a weakness, but him – nope. He proved them wrong. Early testing, back before we began the process to eliminate Alex for good, dropping Xander into that lovely coma he enjoyed so much – made him a little bonkers, by the way, as if being an Agent wasn’t proof of that already – explained to us the most a mirrored surface could do was stall the attack a little. The reason it’d worked before was because Alex was and is an untrained child.” The A-1’s voice took on a distinctly admiring tone, and his next words flowed with praise for everything that had happened. “The things these people can do if they have the right person pushing...”
Jason could hardly imagine doing what these Agents did. Leaving his body for someone else’s? No thank you. He was suffering enough from his goggles, which he still had yet to put on. He was scared of the damage he’d find in his system, but that fear was beating back the withdrawal he’d been running through without them. In the car, he promised himself, he’d get to work fixing them. It’d give him something to do besides think about what had happened the last time he’d been in the back seat with his lead.
... Speaking of ‘things they could do’.
“Just curious,” Jason said, uncontrollably lowering his voice in concern. “You wouldn’t happen to know of any long-term effects from exposure to Alexander’s powers?”
“You mean the two month thing?”
Jason’s eyes popped open. Eric hadn’t even looked up from examining the shades.
“Uh... Yes. Yes, exactly that. What – uh...” He felt uncomfortable asking with his lead so close by. She didn't need another reason to doubt him, especially after she’d expressed Jason’s involvement in the plan – which was about as good as saying as she needed him in his books. “What do you know...?”
“Don’t worry about it. I never had a problem.” ...Alright, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out this man’s main ability was switching from body to body. Eric realized this and grinned again, going on to say, “It’s no big deal. If you want, ask him. We should get going, by the way. Don’t want to set this brilliant plan back by dawdling – here, you hold on to these.” Eric handed him the sunglasses, then gestured to the elevator. “After you, Stephanie. You’ve earned that right.”
Jason suddenly remembered the kid in chains. He’d been quietly standing by the wall, trying to disappear and doing a miserable job of it. He pointed at the boy and asked casually, “What about him?”
“He knows where to go,” Eric said.
The kid did know. He started walking right away, back around the corner he came from.
“There’s – just... there’s one other thing,” Jason said to the man. Eric waited patiently, managing to avoid the tiniest ounce of pressure. “Could you get a techie moved to Charlton? Gary Sanders. He’s my eyes at HQ. He has whatever files that were backed up for my suit. Our target – uh... wiped my system. I’d like to recover as much as I can as soon as I can.”
Was it dangerous to send someone like Gary to the place his target and Alexander were headed? Yeah, a little. But Jason didn’t care. This was as much his fault as it was his target’s.
The A-1 didn’t blink.
“No problem, Jay-jay,” Eric chimed. “I’ll find a phone and get a call out. Consider him there. So – what was that about a ‘wrench in the relationship’?”
Jason smiled, and the first breath of life flew into him. So there was a chance this could be fixed. Great. Wonderful, even. He just didn’t know why he still felt... wary.
He heard her say his name, in the second it took for him to try to draw a breath, his mouth was covered and – she was kissing him. Well... alright, great! The shock of it dulled the joy he knew he’d be skipping over later, but for now, even as she ran her hands over him, especially when her palm brushed by an unfairly agonizing part of his arm – what the hell had happened? – he was pretty damn distracted. Into her mouth, he couldn’t help a quiet cry of pain, and when she pulled away moments after, he kicked himself for making any noise at all. He really, really needed to learn how to shut up around her. That was what started this in the first place.
She’d been crying. Over him. Alex’s mouth fell open, as much from surprise as from filling his lungs with air, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. This had never actually happened before. He’d learned that getting this close to someone was the stupidest mistake he could make. This didn’t feel stupid, though. He’d leave it to fate to decide that ‘mistake’ part.
“Sorry I...” No, he was on the right track. He needed to apologize for something, he just wasn’t what. “Sorry I almost... uh... did that.” By which he meant ‘died’. “I’m... Am I okay?”
Toe’s broken, ribs’re broken, knee’s bent, two fingers’re cracked, shoulder’s sprained and formerly dislocated and I’m pretty sure I bit my tongue. Oh – and the concussion and the internal bleeding and all that fun stuff.
“So the usual?”
The usual.
“Glad to know you’re on the job.”
He felt like hell. He looked like hell. Gwen was staring at him as if he was hell. When she said they couldn’t make it to the hospital... They needed to do something to fix this. No matter what, they’d have to be ready to fight again. More importantly, he needed to feel better – now – so they could hurry up and get out of here. They’d have to leave his pain behind so they could make it through this. His neck was less sore already. He could have a breath without his throat clamping around it.
... O... kay...
Xander drew a little farther away for reasons Alex didn’t have the energy to wonder about. He threw everything into climbing to his feet, stumbling once but making it in the end. And of course, his roommate would chug along on this for hours before he said a word. At least he wasn’t dead? Fine, in the long-run he’d be grateful, but right now, he was thinking a permanent nap would be just what the doctor ordered. He tried to shake it off and focus on what she was saying, but it was harder than it seemed.
“How do you do this?”
I think happy thoughts. Now – if the two of you don’t mind taking a break from your mouth-rape, I’d like to get my coffee.
The disdain in Xander’s voice was over the fact that it would not, in fact, be coming from Starbucks. Alex pretended it was something else and prodded him with a weak grin, “You’re sure you’re not just jealous?”
Jealous of what? Go ahead and fuck like rabbits if you want – this’ll be the greatest threesome in history.
“Xander!”
I’m just sayin’!
“One thing I’m gonna miss about you being in control of my body,” Alex muttered, “there’s no hope of putting a gag on you.”
Sounds sexy. And before Alex could complain – Coffee. Now. We have time for that and it’s not like anyone has a choice. I’m tired and you’re not doing this without me.
It was both an order and a fact. Coffee it was. It’d give him the minutes he needed to make sure he wouldn’t keel over. Years of putting up with this had him versed in what would kill him and what wouldn’t. After that, as soon as that was done, they leaving this place and never coming back.
“Alright, let’s go get coffee.”
The jitters would be good for him. They’d keep him awake.
‘Glad’. Yeah. He’d take her word on that.
“My dear lady, if there is ever the smallest question on your lovely mind, don’t wait to ask,” Eric said, shining like a shard of the sun. “I’m here to help – or stand back and watch, ‘cause I am blown away by how spectacularly you three put this plan together. Ambush in Charlton? Genius. Who came up with that? I love ‘em – and I tell ya, I’ve been around the past couple of months to check in on some of the other groups.” He winced, shook his head, and hissed out a pained breath. “Not lookin’ good. Butchered beyond belief, most of ‘em. You know some Agents’ve been chasing their targets for six years?” Benoit glared. The look sent Eric laughing, and with his newly established body, he threw a gigantic arm over the Frenchman’s shoulders and pulled him in for a crushing side-hug. “I’m just joshin’ you, Benny! You got a hard kid to catch! I’m surprised you made it thisfar.”
Benoit was murderous.
“Eric,” he said stiffly, “let me go.”
“Sure thing! But Ms. March – Stephanie’s fine I hope, and feel free to give me whatever name you like, but not ‘Jean’, I guess – I’m joking. You’re too uptight, Benoit, and we’ve gotta work on that – Stephanie!” He bowed his head. “I am impressed, to put it simply. Never have I heard of something so elaborate being slapped together to catch a girl whose powers aren’t even active.”
“They’re active,” Jason said. He flinched when the A-1’s eyes switched to his, in full view now that he was wearing normal, thick-stemmed glasses. He made himself relax when he realized how open the look was. Nothing to fear so long as they were on the same side, but something told him it’d be in their best interest – and for more reasons than career development – to stay in Eric’s good graces. Not that it felt hard. Jason was energized just by being around him, and he confidently went on to explain, “Our target’s powers very recently turned active.”
“Oh?” It wasn’t Eric’s fault. Jason hadn’t been updating the report. He’d been distracted, what with his goggles and everything... “Well – damn! I came at the fun bit, didn’t I? So how far along is she? Fully functioning? Barely crawling? Somewhere neatly in-between?”
“Ah...” His lead would have to field that one. For now, Jason offered a quick, “She’s not at full power.”
“Ooooooh – I hate that,” Eric said, but the grin on his face played with the news as if it was the greatest thing he’d heard all year. “When there’s one last trick up their sleeve? They hide it ‘til the end, ‘til you give up and think ‘if she’s not using it now, she never will’, then they wait for you to go in for the kill and – BAM! Head explodes. Yours, I mean, not theirs, ‘cause how much harder would this job be, right?”
“Significantly less,” Benoit said. “In case you still fail to grasp the bitter concept, our work is not for fun. We are trying to keep the world from falling at the hands of idiots who cannot control themselves. If they all decided to kill each other, there would be no need for us.”
“So serious,” Eric said. “We should get you a little cape saying ‘Captain Killjoy’. You can fight crime with the power of making people feel bad about enjoying a nice day.”
“There has been nothing ‘nice’ about today,” Benoit snarled. His teeth were grinding around the cigarette in his mouth. “I pray you remember not everyone shares your sick sense of adventure.”
Sharper than ever, Benoit turned on his heel and stalked to the elevator, losing a touch of that Agency-bred grace as he threw his hand on the switch. He wasn’t waiting for them, clearly, and Jason swore the man would’ve flipped the A-1 off if he’d been in any body other than his old friend’s, rank be damned. It stung. ‘Resonated’ was more the word, probably. Jason felt bad. The Flunky had been an asshole and he was relieved to be rid of him – and gaining Eric was a massive improvement – but he’d been getting along with Frenchie. It was too bad there was no one left on his team, courtesy of Alexander picking them off one by one, but if Benoit truly needed someone to... well – Agents never ‘talked’ to each other about anything, so whatever the next closest alternative to that was, Jason hoped the lead had someone there to help him.
“I remember when I first met Jean,” Eric said, sagely. “Young guy, half this size, greener than the Irish at Oktoberfest – wait, that’s German – but – still, showing potential. Good Agent, as it turned out. Never had a chance to officially chat with him, but competent and obedient and what more could you want in hired help?” He clapped Jean’s hands together. “Enough of that! That’s depressing! Let’s focus on getting this done. Jason!”
“Yes, sir?”
That sent a flutter through Eric’s face, who ‘awww’ed at the show of respect and only stopped himself from patting Jason on the head because he could’ve crushed his skull with the massive hand. Instead, he asked, “You mind givin’ me a quick recap on what’s been happening so far? Don’t wanna miss some crazy ‘don’t wear red or your bones will melt!’ super-trivia about Miss. Stewart. Got some insight into what ol’ Alex can do, so you can numb the details on him.”
“Even the charging?”
“What charging?”
So nobody knew about it?
“Jean died because of some built-up release of energy from Alexander,” Jason said. “He was supposed to – Jean was – be protected by lenses Benoit had ordered to counter the abilities.” Eric looked utterly lost. “The lenses. They’re contact lenses. He and Benoit wore them under their sunglasses. You should be wearing them now.”
Eric poked his eyeball, then shrugged and said, “Nope.”
“Well –” He wasn’t crazy! Even if he didn’t have proof of the charging, his lead and Benoit would confirm the lenses. It was all they’d talk about. “Let me... just...” He walked over to the fallen body of Melvin and began to hunt around it, almost expecting the answer to pop out at him.
“What was that about ‘built up’?”
“He – Alexander – started making a whirring noise,” Jason said, refusing to give up his search. “His eyes started glowing, the whirring got louder, there was a flash of light, and then Jean died.” The sunglasses. They were beside the wall, either lost when the Flunky had fallen or cast off when Eric had put on his glasses. Jason picked them up and turned them over. “They’re... melted.”
“Melted? Really?”
No, not really. Not exactly. It seemed more as though they’d been pierced, as if someone had jammed a pole through the centre and pushed. The plastic, hard as it was, had given way to a sharply defined hole. He didn’t know what to make of it. He would’ve liked to have gotten Benoit’s opinion, show him the new development, but even if the man had been down here instead of waiting for them upstairs, he might’ve been too busy grieving to bother with something like this. He hadn’t seemed to have had a lot of patience for the mere suggestion of it. He’d shut Jason down the moment he’d brought it up. Eric, however, seemed very intrigued, and he stood by Jason’s lead as he enthusiastically gestured for the pierced shades to come over.
“Here,” he said, unsure of how to explain it. He’d said the most he could say, after all. “I guess it must’ve destroyed the lenses, then.”
“Maybe, maybe,” Eric happily mused. He ran a finger over the back of the puncture. “This is certainly new.” His face lit up like a firework. “What’d I tell ya? They wait for you to think you’re safe, then they burn a hole through your brain. Let’s keep this in mind from now on, lady and gent.”
“So the lenses are useless,” Jason muttered.
“He always thought so. He’s very quick to chuck ideas, even when they’re his,” Eric said. “A mirrored surface was what Xander used to catch Alex in the first place. Everyone was thrilled to’ve found a weakness, but him – nope. He proved them wrong. Early testing, back before we began the process to eliminate Alex for good, dropping Xander into that lovely coma he enjoyed so much – made him a little bonkers, by the way, as if being an Agent wasn’t proof of that already – explained to us the most a mirrored surface could do was stall the attack a little. The reason it’d worked before was because Alex was and is an untrained child.” The A-1’s voice took on a distinctly admiring tone, and his next words flowed with praise for everything that had happened. “The things these people can do if they have the right person pushing...”
Jason could hardly imagine doing what these Agents did. Leaving his body for someone else’s? No thank you. He was suffering enough from his goggles, which he still had yet to put on. He was scared of the damage he’d find in his system, but that fear was beating back the withdrawal he’d been running through without them. In the car, he promised himself, he’d get to work fixing them. It’d give him something to do besides think about what had happened the last time he’d been in the back seat with his lead.
... Speaking of ‘things they could do’.
“Just curious,” Jason said, uncontrollably lowering his voice in concern. “You wouldn’t happen to know of any long-term effects from exposure to Alexander’s powers?”
“You mean the two month thing?”
Jason’s eyes popped open. Eric hadn’t even looked up from examining the shades.
“Uh... Yes. Yes, exactly that. What – uh...” He felt uncomfortable asking with his lead so close by. She didn't need another reason to doubt him, especially after she’d expressed Jason’s involvement in the plan – which was about as good as saying as she needed him in his books. “What do you know...?”
“Don’t worry about it. I never had a problem.” ...Alright, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out this man’s main ability was switching from body to body. Eric realized this and grinned again, going on to say, “It’s no big deal. If you want, ask him. We should get going, by the way. Don’t want to set this brilliant plan back by dawdling – here, you hold on to these.” Eric handed him the sunglasses, then gestured to the elevator. “After you, Stephanie. You’ve earned that right.”
Jason suddenly remembered the kid in chains. He’d been quietly standing by the wall, trying to disappear and doing a miserable job of it. He pointed at the boy and asked casually, “What about him?”
“He knows where to go,” Eric said.
The kid did know. He started walking right away, back around the corner he came from.
“There’s – just... there’s one other thing,” Jason said to the man. Eric waited patiently, managing to avoid the tiniest ounce of pressure. “Could you get a techie moved to Charlton? Gary Sanders. He’s my eyes at HQ. He has whatever files that were backed up for my suit. Our target – uh... wiped my system. I’d like to recover as much as I can as soon as I can.”
Was it dangerous to send someone like Gary to the place his target and Alexander were headed? Yeah, a little. But Jason didn’t care. This was as much his fault as it was his target’s.
The A-1 didn’t blink.
“No problem, Jay-jay,” Eric chimed. “I’ll find a phone and get a call out. Consider him there. So – what was that about a ‘wrench in the relationship’?”
Jason smiled, and the first breath of life flew into him. So there was a chance this could be fixed. Great. Wonderful, even. He just didn’t know why he still felt... wary.
* * *
He heard her say his name, in the second it took for him to try to draw a breath, his mouth was covered and – she was kissing him. Well... alright, great! The shock of it dulled the joy he knew he’d be skipping over later, but for now, even as she ran her hands over him, especially when her palm brushed by an unfairly agonizing part of his arm – what the hell had happened? – he was pretty damn distracted. Into her mouth, he couldn’t help a quiet cry of pain, and when she pulled away moments after, he kicked himself for making any noise at all. He really, really needed to learn how to shut up around her. That was what started this in the first place.
She’d been crying. Over him. Alex’s mouth fell open, as much from surprise as from filling his lungs with air, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. This had never actually happened before. He’d learned that getting this close to someone was the stupidest mistake he could make. This didn’t feel stupid, though. He’d leave it to fate to decide that ‘mistake’ part.
“Sorry I...” No, he was on the right track. He needed to apologize for something, he just wasn’t what. “Sorry I almost... uh... did that.” By which he meant ‘died’. “I’m... Am I okay?”
Toe’s broken, ribs’re broken, knee’s bent, two fingers’re cracked, shoulder’s sprained and formerly dislocated and I’m pretty sure I bit my tongue. Oh – and the concussion and the internal bleeding and all that fun stuff.
“So the usual?”
The usual.
“Glad to know you’re on the job.”
He felt like hell. He looked like hell. Gwen was staring at him as if he was hell. When she said they couldn’t make it to the hospital... They needed to do something to fix this. No matter what, they’d have to be ready to fight again. More importantly, he needed to feel better – now – so they could hurry up and get out of here. They’d have to leave his pain behind so they could make it through this. His neck was less sore already. He could have a breath without his throat clamping around it.
... O... kay...
Xander drew a little farther away for reasons Alex didn’t have the energy to wonder about. He threw everything into climbing to his feet, stumbling once but making it in the end. And of course, his roommate would chug along on this for hours before he said a word. At least he wasn’t dead? Fine, in the long-run he’d be grateful, but right now, he was thinking a permanent nap would be just what the doctor ordered. He tried to shake it off and focus on what she was saying, but it was harder than it seemed.
“How do you do this?”
I think happy thoughts. Now – if the two of you don’t mind taking a break from your mouth-rape, I’d like to get my coffee.
The disdain in Xander’s voice was over the fact that it would not, in fact, be coming from Starbucks. Alex pretended it was something else and prodded him with a weak grin, “You’re sure you’re not just jealous?”
Jealous of what? Go ahead and fuck like rabbits if you want – this’ll be the greatest threesome in history.
“Xander!”
I’m just sayin’!
“One thing I’m gonna miss about you being in control of my body,” Alex muttered, “there’s no hope of putting a gag on you.”
Sounds sexy. And before Alex could complain – Coffee. Now. We have time for that and it’s not like anyone has a choice. I’m tired and you’re not doing this without me.
It was both an order and a fact. Coffee it was. It’d give him the minutes he needed to make sure he wouldn’t keel over. Years of putting up with this had him versed in what would kill him and what wouldn’t. After that, as soon as that was done, they leaving this place and never coming back.
“Alright, let’s go get coffee.”
The jitters would be good for him. They’d keep him awake.
Last edited by Tartra on Tue Jan 25, 2011 11:27 am; edited 1 time in total
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Wed Sep 08, 2010 5:11 pm
All at once, Gwen was of the mind to actually feel embarrassed about kissing Alex, but only when she got a headful of Xander's commentary about it. As he first referred to it as "mouth-rape" she blushed and turned to look away, while nervously tucking her hair behind her ears again. Then Alex decided to play along and goad him on it and the ex-Agent had the nerve to allude to them having sex! Not only that, but he had the audacity to suggest that she'd even consider allowing such a thing while he was still occupying Alex's head!
Gwen fully admitted that she liked Alex and that she was physically attracted to him - what she'd originally considered a sexual attraction to Xander had merely been her attempt to cling to someone who could protect her, she now realized. But after a while he proved to be less and less predictable and began wearing her down with her constant need to second guess him and demanding she look after him while at the same time she was left trying to keep up with his longer stride. As a result, she pined and yearned for some stability in personality, someone she could depend on to think clearly and rationally and she realized he'd been the voice echoing in her and Xander's heads all along.
So there was the possibility that now her attraction to Alex was along the same vein as it had been with Xander - and she fully recognized that - but it was more that she wanted to be around him and found comfort in his physical presence rather than a desire to jump his bones - although there was that as well. Even though her behavior towards Xander had suggested otherwise earlier on, she was not the type of person to just give everything away for free, especially not to someone she barely knew. Despite the impression she must have left him with, after flirting with him and then kissing Alex the way she just did, she still found enough self-pride to get defensive about his suggestion that she was a slut.
If he were still physically in the body, she would have slapped him as hard as she could. Thinking that, she was glad again that he wasn't. For a moment longer, she considered kissing Alex again just to prove to the stupid bastard in the "backseat" that she didn't care what he thought, but she figured that wouldn't be fair to Alex to let the stupid ex-Agent constantly dictate how their relationship developed. He was here with her now and they could move forward however they liked. She did however, pause at the opening of the alley to give him another bright smile, reaching forward to rub off a bit of dried blood still crusting on the edge of his chin, before leading the way to the coffee shop. He wasn't a baby and it hadn't been a mothering gesture but another display of her need to touch him again.
As they walked, she hadn't realized just how much she'd missed him until she kept glancing at him and feeling excited to see him in the body, instead of that haughty, wolf-like strut that Xander always adopted. His steps were still a bit pained and she felt a pulse of sympathy and worry for him; but mostly she was excited. So excited, in fact, that she started talking and didn't stop, her voice coming out with an eagerness like a schoolgirl chatting with her best friend.
"It was really awful back there," she said almost gravely. "I didn't think we'd make it out of there alive. The guy fighting you - I mean, Xander - he was so big, when he missed a hit, he put a dent in the walls. And then he started throwing him around... When he grabbed your neck, it was like from your chin down to your shoulder disappeared within his massive fingers."
She held her hands up to her own neck as they walked along, to illustrate what she meant, although her hands were comically slender in comparison to what she described. "And he just started squeezing and I could feel it, there was barely anything holding him back from crushing you and before Xander zapped him, he was just about to break his - I mean your - neck."
She'd been really worried, not only for Xander, but through the whole thing wondering if Alex was alright. Ever since she'd needed to shut him off because of the pain he'd been going through - no. It had been way before that. Gwen had been worried about him ever since Xander had passed out in the taxi for the first time and Alex had been unable to control the body. It felt like it had been a week ago...
She shook her head and let out a sigh and then her eyes opened wide and she gasped a little as she turned to him and touched him lightly on the shoulder. "And when Xander zapped him it was bigger than anything I've seen him do! It was beautiful, like nothing I've ever felt before - well, it was a bit like back at Roaster's and I was underwater again for a while..."
That made her think of the veins of brass she'd seen inside Xander and the two Agents and how every thought and memory had been open to her eyes as if she could reach out and touch them. She still didn't understand what that was and she was silent for a few moments wondering, her eyes trailing after a small Oriental woman walking in the opposite direction, looking at her as if the circuits and strings would show up again. But they didn't and she shook her head and turned back to Alex, her expression brightening as she met his gaze again.
"And my fight wasn't a day in the park either," she said with a humored shrug. "That jerk, Jason, stole my goggles - well, I guess they were his really - and he almost choked me trying to pull them off. Like a little whiny brat yanking on them from behind me." She rolled her eyes as if she were talking about a child throwing an embarrassing tantrum in public. "And then he went invisible like the ladder and the doors outside that building, and that would have been fine if I could have felt anything from him. I didn't have any trouble getting into his head before and he even seemed like he didn't know what he was doing - but THIS time..." She shook her head again and let out a harsh breath. "He musta been getting pointers from Stephanie or at least gotten his act together on the ride here."
Gwen's eyes lit up with sudden hilarity and she giggled and skipped ahead a few feet, stopping to wait for Alex to catch up before she continued walking beside him. It took her a few minutes to recover from the private joke enough to let him in on it. "On the way here, apparently Stephanie took out her pent up frustrations on him, and ended up groping and using his thigh and practically his crotch for a scratching post in the backseat of the car!" she snickered again before continuing on, her hand lightly touching him before drawing away. "These people are like something from a soap opera, I swear! And the little spoiled brat just sat there and took it - although, frankly, considering what he was up against, I don't blame him. The woman is...insane. I mean, seriously, there is something wrong with her."
"The few times I've connected with her, it's like she's not even real inside - everybody has a solid structure within that I can explore. She's full of stairs that lead nowhere and endless rows of paper walls that I can't see through." She shook her head in wonderment. "And I don't think it's something that can be fixed - even when I touched the real her, when I first used the goggles, everything about her was twisted and broken. She's obsessed with me for some reason. I mean, I know I'm her "target" or whatever, but her pursuit is almost...personal. It's almost like she wants to eat me." She stopped and shook her head, blushing and laughing a bit nervously. "I mean, not like cannibal or anything weird... It's hard to explain."
"And then there's that thing she does with her thoughts - like she shuts everything down inside and it gets really loud, so much that even when I don't touch her mind, I can feel it and I can't hear anybody else," they were nearing the coffee shop now, green cursive lettering above the door declaring it "Mandy's Cafe". By this point she'd calmed down in her excitement a lot and spoke in a sober tone. "That's why I want to hurry and get us out of here. So we can get to Charlton and get you what you need and you can be free finally - no offense Xander, but honestly, you're a bit of a ball and chain sometimes." She made a pointed gesture with her eyes at the coffee shop they were nearing and cast him a teasing grin. They were making this stop for him, afterall, and if it had just been her and Alex, they wouldn't have made the stop.
The grin slowly vanished once more as they neared the doors to the establishment and she said, "But the point is... I really don't like being around her. Not only does it feel like she actually is trying to swallow me right in the middle of everything, but it cuts me off from feeling anything. Even my own thoughts. I can't fight her like that - you saw what happened in the hallway back at our apartment building. She's like a demon and she won't stop until I'm completely worn down. So, if we can find Xander's body and get him in there without facing her, then all the better."
A person leaving the coffee shop opened the door for them and let them inside and she finally fell silent, taking in a deep breath and letting it out. She remembered the last time they were in a non-Starbucks establishment, and she was not eager for Xander to repeat his routine of making a scene just because they weren't at his favorite restaurant. But as they walked through the doors, and approached the counter of the cozy place, she became aware of someone else already harassing the employee working the place.
"Just do it right, this time!" the smoke-weathered feminine voice said harshly. "I need to hurry and catch a bus."
"Alright," the man in his early thirties said while standing at the machines behind the counter, busily putting whipped cream topping on her order. "And... you wanted just caramel drizzle on this?" He turned to look at her uncertainly with a bit of worry creasing his brow. This was the third time he'd fulfilled this order, but after the second time, she'd changed her mind from the chocolate and caramel mix. Dean had a feeling she'd done that just to mess with him - she'd been complaining about needing to catch a bus for the past 20 minutes she'd been here.
Osono glared at him and said, "If you guys just offered a Caramel Frappuccino, we wouldn't be having all this difficulty."
The man did a double-take at her, once again making note of the short blonde, spiked hair, nose ring and jacket with torn sleeves at the shoulders. "This isn't Starbucks!"
The woman let out a sigh and nodded her head. "I'm really glad you understand the core problem, Dean. Now do that over before I have to set you on fire. There's chocolate drizzle on it."
"Dean" had been in the middle of putting a neat plastic covering over it as she'd said that and he realized he hadn't been paying attention to what he'd been doing and added chocolate drizzle to her order again. As his shoulders slumped he went about preparing her drink again repeating over and over to himself the word "caramel".
Standing beside Alex a few feet away from her in line, Gwen raised an eyebrow at the woman's flippant threat, and her eyes widened briefly to realize the woman actually meant it, and she glanced sideways at Alex as the woman's ranting reminded her heavily of Xander. But after a few moments, Osono decided to behave - merely picking up stirring straws from a small container on the counter by the register and idly tossing them at Dean's back while he remade the coffee she'd wanted - so Gwen turned away and began thinking back over what she'd told Alex.
There was one part of their time in the labs that she hadn't recounted to him yet and it was an important part: Stephanie had played a trick on her. That brought up the question of "why" she would even go through the trouble of making something up and thinking it right when Gwen decided to reach out to her. Remembering her own reaction to the false information and the memories she'd gotten from Jean in a moment when he'd been focused on Xander, she understood the reason for the ruse. She also realized that on some level Stephanie could sense when Gwen touched her mind - enough to know when to start thinking over that fake plan; she doubted Stephanie had sat there thinking it over and over blindly.
Turning to Alex she said in lower tones, "I realize that it seems awfully unrealistic to try and plan not to meet up with her again - even attempting to avoid it seems like encouraging a false hope. She did something weird back there at the...facility or whatever you want to call it. When I knew she was in the building, I tried to reach out to her to see if I couldn't spy on her a little bit. I think she knew I was watching her though - she started thinking to herself about a deal she and the other Agents," she paused and looked around then, but nobody was near enough to hear her speak in that low voice - who bought coffee at 4 in the afternoon? "About a deal they were making with you and Xander. The main idea was that you'd both get immunity from the Agency's influence if you handed me over to them in Charlton."
She blushed slightly to remember how angry and hurt she'd been to hear that. Looking at Alex now, she couldn't believe she'd fallen for it. He couldn't. He wouldn't do that to her. Shaking her head slightly, she continued on, ignoring the exclamations from the woman still ordering coffee. "Anyways, I think she did it to make us split up and... she probably doesn't know that I know the plan was fake. I don't know... I just thought I'd mention it as something we could possibly plan for to catch her - them - off guard, maybe."
Osono was done with her order now and tossing a crumpled $10 at the bedraggled Dean, before swiftly turning away with her drink gripped in one hand. Walking by, she roughly nudged Alex's shoulder and sneered at him, not stopping to call over her shoulder, "Watch it, turd-face!" before she was wandering out the doors of the establishment. Gwen looked at Alex worriedly and probed his shoulder mentally to assess the damage, but other than what was already wrong with him, she couldn't tell the difference. Still, it made her mad that people could be so rude.
Dean finished wiping the counter and sweeping the 2 dozen stirring straws littering the floor behind the counter into a pile before he breathed a sigh of relief and turned to them with a clear expression. After what the guy had just been through, Gwen felt kinda bad that he still had to fulfill Xander's order yet. Looking over the menu, she realized she was hungry and needed something in her stomach before they left the city. Turning to Alex she asked, "Could I get a cinnamon twist?" It felt pathetic to ask, but after he'd bent her bank card in two, she didn't have much of a choice. She was broke.
As once again, Benoit and Eric devolved into the sparring that went on between them, she took the moment to look over at Jason, wondering how different things were going to be with the A-1 now on their team. It hadn't been something she'd considered until now, but Jason's current occupation as her "toy" might be cut short with Eric in the same car with them. She doubted she would be able to get away with as much and although she assumed her assault on Jason's leg had gone unnoticed by both the French Agents, she had very little doubt it would slip past Eric, no matter how well she thought she was hiding it. It made her feel a little remiss that she wasn't going to be able entertain herself that way anymore.
Stephanie's attention was drawn back to the current situation as Benoit angrily waltzed past and boarded the elevator in a huff. She internally rolled her eyes while staring blankly after him, wondering if he was going to be a big baby for the rest of the time Eric was on the team. She understood on some level that it had to do with grief and the fact that the A-1 was wearing his dead partner like a muscled suit, but still, she felt a measure of scorn towards his display of emotion. There had only been one or two people in her life that she would consider herself having gotten "close" to on a personal level, but even if she was in Benoit's place with them, she was simply too fascinated by the body transfer process to feel any amount of pain or loss from the disrespectful way that Eric would wear their skin.
For several moments, Stephanie felt a burst of rage filled jealousy crashing like a wave against an oceanside cliff within her, barely a ripple registering on her face, as Eric turned to Jason and began asking him about HER case and target. Who did the little twerp think he was? Although she did admit, he was technically her assistant on the case and thus, Eric was right to ask him for an updated report - but he still could have asked her and been within line. As she listened to Jason recount what exactly he'd been trying to tell Benoit about, she completely forgot about pouting.
Charging? That didn't sound good... There was definitely no way Gwen had not been affected by that and Stephanie felt a pulse of fear deep within that the target had rushed ahead of schedule as a result. Stephanie's iron will and training would still work, as would any other Lead Agent's general training, but that last bit of room for error was completely gone. Even if Gwen hadn't had time to practice her new skills by the time they encountered her again in Charlton or where ever she ran off to, if Stephanie wasn't on her guard constantly while engaging her in battle, it would be all the opening Gwen would need.
At that thought, Stephanie found herself once again looking at Jason and her eyes narrowed. Alright, so now she was completely clear on what had happened to Jean - and they even had a very obvious visual to go along with the story, besides the walking talking previously dead man. But what had happened between Jason and Gwen? Looking around the hallways and the terminals, Stephanie made note of the different dents in the walls and immediately attributed them to Jean's fists. Looking over Jason's body, she noticed that even the withdrawal that had been crippling him for most of the trip thus far had dissipated, leaving him standing upright and fit as ever. Had he taken the emphasis on phase 2 too literally and just let her go? Had Gwen done something? Or...had Jason just willfully let them both go?
It was an absurd thought, but she couldn't help having it and as she walked ahead of the other two men towards the elevator, the thought continued to needle at her, even as she dutifully responded to the questions asked of her. "Stewart has the ability to think and feel the thoughts and emotions of those around her. I'm absolutely positive, sir, that at your level of training, you will have no difficulty blocking her abilities. As far as anything special, you'd have to watch out for... There's nothing extraordinary. She will eventually develop the power of suggestion, but it will only work on the weak-minded."
Standing beside Jason on the elevator, she waited until Eric had glanced away and the disk beneath their feet began it's ascent, before she reached behind and grabbed her partner's ass in a small squeeze. He clenched delightfully before she let her hand fall back to her side. All thoughts she'd had previously, worrying about the A-1 detecting her harassment of her colleague were completely absent. At this particular moment, even as she hid the fact she'd touched Jason at all, she really didn't care if the higher ranked Agent knew what she'd done.
"The "wrench" I deployed recently was a side-plan I came up with after it became apparent that Stewart was using my partner's stolen goggles to connect with us psychically over long-distance in an attempt to spy on us. I correctly predicted that she would make the attempt again once we were within range of her powers - which is 1 mile, by the way - and I decided to use the opportunity to inspire suspicion and fear towards her traveling companion, Alexander. It's my belief that separating the two of them will make Gwen considerably more vulnerable to capture."
"Since she now believes that the man who's hands she's put her life into is planning on making a deal with us and double crossing her, she will no doubt desire to leave him, especially as his behavior - as he grows more rushed to reconnect with his previous form - encourages such a belief. By the time they reach Charlton, she will no doubt take the opportunity to leave him behind and venture on her own. So even if we do not capture her at the facility in Charlton for whatever unforeseen reason, she will be alone and defenseless and it should be a piece of cake to snatch her up after that."
As they stepped off of the platform, she could not take it any longer and swiftly put out a hand to stop Jason from following Eric out the front doors. "If it's alright, sir," she said to the A-1 Agent who stopped and cocked a questioning eyebrow back at her. "I would like a moment alone with my partner. Nothing personal - I just need to go over something regarding the case." He paused to think about it and she dove ahead, "We'll just be one minute, sir. I won't be long." He seemed to consider something for a moment longer but finally gave her the okay and headed out the front doors of the building, the heavy metal clanging shut behind him, leaving the two Agents alone in a limited circle of light.
Stephanie barely waited a moment for the fading daylight to disappear from the room before she turned to Jason and swiftly delved her fingers into the curly locks on the back of his head. Wrenching him forward, her fist tightened it's hold on him and her mouth cut off any verbal protest or cry of pain he might have uttered. It was not a kiss in the strictest sense of the word but more of her smashing her face into his mouth-to-mouth, her breathing going up a few tempos as she swayed her head from side to side roughly. Then it was all teeth, and she was biting and abusing his bottom lip harshly, tugging and pulling on it until she heard him give in and groan softly in pain, before she finally let go and drew back to look at him coldly.
She did not release her hold on his hair as she stared into him but took a moment or two to calm her breathing before she spoke in her characteristic monotone. "What happened, Jason? Hm? What really happened? Oh sure, I was there when you gave your reports, but an Agent is dead, the target is gone, and ...there's not a scratch on you." Her grip tightened briefly as if she meant to correct that, but she quickly continued on. "Did Alexander threaten to fry your mind too? Were you scared after watching Jean fall to the ground with a hole in his sunglasses? It's perfectly understandable, but what I'm having difficulty comprehending is what happened before that."
"You must have had some time to engage the target. Did you? All Agents are given some amount of mental training, or did you fumble with that just like you did with your goggles? I see you got them back and I'm very happy for you." She did not sound happy at that moment. "Did you just slip them off of her face and then huddle off in a corner to tend to your wounded computer system? Or did you actually put a little effort into fighting with her? The point was to make it NOT look like we wanted them to get away. Did you screw up again?"
Stephanie pulled him closer so that they were cheek-to-cheek but not touching, all except for her hand in his hair, and with her lips hovering at his ear she said, "She read your mind, didn't she? Did she know things? Embarrassing things? Did it get you flustered? Were you distracted?" Her voice drew lower down to a whisper as she came to the next part. "Did she say things in an odd tone of voice? Did she make...suggestions that you couldn't seem to refuse? Is that how she got away?"
Pulling back from him, she searched his features with those hollow, dead eyes and found no recognition in response to her words. She'd confused him a bit, it seemed. But the paranoia that what had happened to Jean had awakened Gwen's powers fully would not leave her alone. Maybe something else had happened.
"If I find out later that her powers have reached the last levels and that you knew about it this whole time without saying anything, you will have to wait until after 6 months of medical leave before you'll be able to re-apply for a new assignment. Understand?" As she asked the last question, she roughly jerked his head as she shoved him away and let go, giving him her version of a glare as she awaited his response. Just a few more minutes of alone time left - any further explanation he had to offer to enlighten how he was able to escape unharmed would have to be given quickly, but she would not be satisfied until she got it.
The one thing she was most paranoid about was that for some other reason Jason had let the target go. She wanted to know that she could trust him when the time came to execute part 2 of this plan - she would get Gwen's body with or without his help, but she would not stand for it if he got in her way. Eric got a new body and switched skins seemingly whenever he felt like it - with a minor bit of procedure thrown in of course - and after watching him fill Jean's shoes so effortlessly, it increased her feverish need to be inside Gwen. Her own flesh was beginning to itch and ache, growing weary and tight, like someone winding a tourniquet around her core. She needed to get out and right now, Jason's assurances that he was not going to betray her - or hadn't already - was crucial to her not ending his life on the spot. NO ONE would threaten her new life. ... No matter how delicious their cries of pain tasted...
Gwen fully admitted that she liked Alex and that she was physically attracted to him - what she'd originally considered a sexual attraction to Xander had merely been her attempt to cling to someone who could protect her, she now realized. But after a while he proved to be less and less predictable and began wearing her down with her constant need to second guess him and demanding she look after him while at the same time she was left trying to keep up with his longer stride. As a result, she pined and yearned for some stability in personality, someone she could depend on to think clearly and rationally and she realized he'd been the voice echoing in her and Xander's heads all along.
So there was the possibility that now her attraction to Alex was along the same vein as it had been with Xander - and she fully recognized that - but it was more that she wanted to be around him and found comfort in his physical presence rather than a desire to jump his bones - although there was that as well. Even though her behavior towards Xander had suggested otherwise earlier on, she was not the type of person to just give everything away for free, especially not to someone she barely knew. Despite the impression she must have left him with, after flirting with him and then kissing Alex the way she just did, she still found enough self-pride to get defensive about his suggestion that she was a slut.
If he were still physically in the body, she would have slapped him as hard as she could. Thinking that, she was glad again that he wasn't. For a moment longer, she considered kissing Alex again just to prove to the stupid bastard in the "backseat" that she didn't care what he thought, but she figured that wouldn't be fair to Alex to let the stupid ex-Agent constantly dictate how their relationship developed. He was here with her now and they could move forward however they liked. She did however, pause at the opening of the alley to give him another bright smile, reaching forward to rub off a bit of dried blood still crusting on the edge of his chin, before leading the way to the coffee shop. He wasn't a baby and it hadn't been a mothering gesture but another display of her need to touch him again.
As they walked, she hadn't realized just how much she'd missed him until she kept glancing at him and feeling excited to see him in the body, instead of that haughty, wolf-like strut that Xander always adopted. His steps were still a bit pained and she felt a pulse of sympathy and worry for him; but mostly she was excited. So excited, in fact, that she started talking and didn't stop, her voice coming out with an eagerness like a schoolgirl chatting with her best friend.
"It was really awful back there," she said almost gravely. "I didn't think we'd make it out of there alive. The guy fighting you - I mean, Xander - he was so big, when he missed a hit, he put a dent in the walls. And then he started throwing him around... When he grabbed your neck, it was like from your chin down to your shoulder disappeared within his massive fingers."
She held her hands up to her own neck as they walked along, to illustrate what she meant, although her hands were comically slender in comparison to what she described. "And he just started squeezing and I could feel it, there was barely anything holding him back from crushing you and before Xander zapped him, he was just about to break his - I mean your - neck."
She'd been really worried, not only for Xander, but through the whole thing wondering if Alex was alright. Ever since she'd needed to shut him off because of the pain he'd been going through - no. It had been way before that. Gwen had been worried about him ever since Xander had passed out in the taxi for the first time and Alex had been unable to control the body. It felt like it had been a week ago...
She shook her head and let out a sigh and then her eyes opened wide and she gasped a little as she turned to him and touched him lightly on the shoulder. "And when Xander zapped him it was bigger than anything I've seen him do! It was beautiful, like nothing I've ever felt before - well, it was a bit like back at Roaster's and I was underwater again for a while..."
That made her think of the veins of brass she'd seen inside Xander and the two Agents and how every thought and memory had been open to her eyes as if she could reach out and touch them. She still didn't understand what that was and she was silent for a few moments wondering, her eyes trailing after a small Oriental woman walking in the opposite direction, looking at her as if the circuits and strings would show up again. But they didn't and she shook her head and turned back to Alex, her expression brightening as she met his gaze again.
"And my fight wasn't a day in the park either," she said with a humored shrug. "That jerk, Jason, stole my goggles - well, I guess they were his really - and he almost choked me trying to pull them off. Like a little whiny brat yanking on them from behind me." She rolled her eyes as if she were talking about a child throwing an embarrassing tantrum in public. "And then he went invisible like the ladder and the doors outside that building, and that would have been fine if I could have felt anything from him. I didn't have any trouble getting into his head before and he even seemed like he didn't know what he was doing - but THIS time..." She shook her head again and let out a harsh breath. "He musta been getting pointers from Stephanie or at least gotten his act together on the ride here."
Gwen's eyes lit up with sudden hilarity and she giggled and skipped ahead a few feet, stopping to wait for Alex to catch up before she continued walking beside him. It took her a few minutes to recover from the private joke enough to let him in on it. "On the way here, apparently Stephanie took out her pent up frustrations on him, and ended up groping and using his thigh and practically his crotch for a scratching post in the backseat of the car!" she snickered again before continuing on, her hand lightly touching him before drawing away. "These people are like something from a soap opera, I swear! And the little spoiled brat just sat there and took it - although, frankly, considering what he was up against, I don't blame him. The woman is...insane. I mean, seriously, there is something wrong with her."
"The few times I've connected with her, it's like she's not even real inside - everybody has a solid structure within that I can explore. She's full of stairs that lead nowhere and endless rows of paper walls that I can't see through." She shook her head in wonderment. "And I don't think it's something that can be fixed - even when I touched the real her, when I first used the goggles, everything about her was twisted and broken. She's obsessed with me for some reason. I mean, I know I'm her "target" or whatever, but her pursuit is almost...personal. It's almost like she wants to eat me." She stopped and shook her head, blushing and laughing a bit nervously. "I mean, not like cannibal or anything weird... It's hard to explain."
"And then there's that thing she does with her thoughts - like she shuts everything down inside and it gets really loud, so much that even when I don't touch her mind, I can feel it and I can't hear anybody else," they were nearing the coffee shop now, green cursive lettering above the door declaring it "Mandy's Cafe". By this point she'd calmed down in her excitement a lot and spoke in a sober tone. "That's why I want to hurry and get us out of here. So we can get to Charlton and get you what you need and you can be free finally - no offense Xander, but honestly, you're a bit of a ball and chain sometimes." She made a pointed gesture with her eyes at the coffee shop they were nearing and cast him a teasing grin. They were making this stop for him, afterall, and if it had just been her and Alex, they wouldn't have made the stop.
The grin slowly vanished once more as they neared the doors to the establishment and she said, "But the point is... I really don't like being around her. Not only does it feel like she actually is trying to swallow me right in the middle of everything, but it cuts me off from feeling anything. Even my own thoughts. I can't fight her like that - you saw what happened in the hallway back at our apartment building. She's like a demon and she won't stop until I'm completely worn down. So, if we can find Xander's body and get him in there without facing her, then all the better."
A person leaving the coffee shop opened the door for them and let them inside and she finally fell silent, taking in a deep breath and letting it out. She remembered the last time they were in a non-Starbucks establishment, and she was not eager for Xander to repeat his routine of making a scene just because they weren't at his favorite restaurant. But as they walked through the doors, and approached the counter of the cozy place, she became aware of someone else already harassing the employee working the place.
"Just do it right, this time!" the smoke-weathered feminine voice said harshly. "I need to hurry and catch a bus."
"Alright," the man in his early thirties said while standing at the machines behind the counter, busily putting whipped cream topping on her order. "And... you wanted just caramel drizzle on this?" He turned to look at her uncertainly with a bit of worry creasing his brow. This was the third time he'd fulfilled this order, but after the second time, she'd changed her mind from the chocolate and caramel mix. Dean had a feeling she'd done that just to mess with him - she'd been complaining about needing to catch a bus for the past 20 minutes she'd been here.
Osono glared at him and said, "If you guys just offered a Caramel Frappuccino, we wouldn't be having all this difficulty."
The man did a double-take at her, once again making note of the short blonde, spiked hair, nose ring and jacket with torn sleeves at the shoulders. "This isn't Starbucks!"
The woman let out a sigh and nodded her head. "I'm really glad you understand the core problem, Dean. Now do that over before I have to set you on fire. There's chocolate drizzle on it."
"Dean" had been in the middle of putting a neat plastic covering over it as she'd said that and he realized he hadn't been paying attention to what he'd been doing and added chocolate drizzle to her order again. As his shoulders slumped he went about preparing her drink again repeating over and over to himself the word "caramel".
Standing beside Alex a few feet away from her in line, Gwen raised an eyebrow at the woman's flippant threat, and her eyes widened briefly to realize the woman actually meant it, and she glanced sideways at Alex as the woman's ranting reminded her heavily of Xander. But after a few moments, Osono decided to behave - merely picking up stirring straws from a small container on the counter by the register and idly tossing them at Dean's back while he remade the coffee she'd wanted - so Gwen turned away and began thinking back over what she'd told Alex.
There was one part of their time in the labs that she hadn't recounted to him yet and it was an important part: Stephanie had played a trick on her. That brought up the question of "why" she would even go through the trouble of making something up and thinking it right when Gwen decided to reach out to her. Remembering her own reaction to the false information and the memories she'd gotten from Jean in a moment when he'd been focused on Xander, she understood the reason for the ruse. She also realized that on some level Stephanie could sense when Gwen touched her mind - enough to know when to start thinking over that fake plan; she doubted Stephanie had sat there thinking it over and over blindly.
Turning to Alex she said in lower tones, "I realize that it seems awfully unrealistic to try and plan not to meet up with her again - even attempting to avoid it seems like encouraging a false hope. She did something weird back there at the...facility or whatever you want to call it. When I knew she was in the building, I tried to reach out to her to see if I couldn't spy on her a little bit. I think she knew I was watching her though - she started thinking to herself about a deal she and the other Agents," she paused and looked around then, but nobody was near enough to hear her speak in that low voice - who bought coffee at 4 in the afternoon? "About a deal they were making with you and Xander. The main idea was that you'd both get immunity from the Agency's influence if you handed me over to them in Charlton."
She blushed slightly to remember how angry and hurt she'd been to hear that. Looking at Alex now, she couldn't believe she'd fallen for it. He couldn't. He wouldn't do that to her. Shaking her head slightly, she continued on, ignoring the exclamations from the woman still ordering coffee. "Anyways, I think she did it to make us split up and... she probably doesn't know that I know the plan was fake. I don't know... I just thought I'd mention it as something we could possibly plan for to catch her - them - off guard, maybe."
Osono was done with her order now and tossing a crumpled $10 at the bedraggled Dean, before swiftly turning away with her drink gripped in one hand. Walking by, she roughly nudged Alex's shoulder and sneered at him, not stopping to call over her shoulder, "Watch it, turd-face!" before she was wandering out the doors of the establishment. Gwen looked at Alex worriedly and probed his shoulder mentally to assess the damage, but other than what was already wrong with him, she couldn't tell the difference. Still, it made her mad that people could be so rude.
Dean finished wiping the counter and sweeping the 2 dozen stirring straws littering the floor behind the counter into a pile before he breathed a sigh of relief and turned to them with a clear expression. After what the guy had just been through, Gwen felt kinda bad that he still had to fulfill Xander's order yet. Looking over the menu, she realized she was hungry and needed something in her stomach before they left the city. Turning to Alex she asked, "Could I get a cinnamon twist?" It felt pathetic to ask, but after he'd bent her bank card in two, she didn't have much of a choice. She was broke.
***
There was that energy again, that magnetism in his voice and every expression. Even knowing the motivation behind it, she could not help feeling flattered and humbled when his tone became so respectful towards her. And his calling her "his dear lady" and "Miss March" made her blush internally. Never before had she made a connection with her last name and Playboy magazine until he said it, and it had been a long time since anyone had spoken to her that way, let alone called her a "lady". And who was saying it only compounded the glowing feeling she experienced within her inner mental layers.As once again, Benoit and Eric devolved into the sparring that went on between them, she took the moment to look over at Jason, wondering how different things were going to be with the A-1 now on their team. It hadn't been something she'd considered until now, but Jason's current occupation as her "toy" might be cut short with Eric in the same car with them. She doubted she would be able to get away with as much and although she assumed her assault on Jason's leg had gone unnoticed by both the French Agents, she had very little doubt it would slip past Eric, no matter how well she thought she was hiding it. It made her feel a little remiss that she wasn't going to be able entertain herself that way anymore.
Stephanie's attention was drawn back to the current situation as Benoit angrily waltzed past and boarded the elevator in a huff. She internally rolled her eyes while staring blankly after him, wondering if he was going to be a big baby for the rest of the time Eric was on the team. She understood on some level that it had to do with grief and the fact that the A-1 was wearing his dead partner like a muscled suit, but still, she felt a measure of scorn towards his display of emotion. There had only been one or two people in her life that she would consider herself having gotten "close" to on a personal level, but even if she was in Benoit's place with them, she was simply too fascinated by the body transfer process to feel any amount of pain or loss from the disrespectful way that Eric would wear their skin.
For several moments, Stephanie felt a burst of rage filled jealousy crashing like a wave against an oceanside cliff within her, barely a ripple registering on her face, as Eric turned to Jason and began asking him about HER case and target. Who did the little twerp think he was? Although she did admit, he was technically her assistant on the case and thus, Eric was right to ask him for an updated report - but he still could have asked her and been within line. As she listened to Jason recount what exactly he'd been trying to tell Benoit about, she completely forgot about pouting.
Charging? That didn't sound good... There was definitely no way Gwen had not been affected by that and Stephanie felt a pulse of fear deep within that the target had rushed ahead of schedule as a result. Stephanie's iron will and training would still work, as would any other Lead Agent's general training, but that last bit of room for error was completely gone. Even if Gwen hadn't had time to practice her new skills by the time they encountered her again in Charlton or where ever she ran off to, if Stephanie wasn't on her guard constantly while engaging her in battle, it would be all the opening Gwen would need.
At that thought, Stephanie found herself once again looking at Jason and her eyes narrowed. Alright, so now she was completely clear on what had happened to Jean - and they even had a very obvious visual to go along with the story, besides the walking talking previously dead man. But what had happened between Jason and Gwen? Looking around the hallways and the terminals, Stephanie made note of the different dents in the walls and immediately attributed them to Jean's fists. Looking over Jason's body, she noticed that even the withdrawal that had been crippling him for most of the trip thus far had dissipated, leaving him standing upright and fit as ever. Had he taken the emphasis on phase 2 too literally and just let her go? Had Gwen done something? Or...had Jason just willfully let them both go?
It was an absurd thought, but she couldn't help having it and as she walked ahead of the other two men towards the elevator, the thought continued to needle at her, even as she dutifully responded to the questions asked of her. "Stewart has the ability to think and feel the thoughts and emotions of those around her. I'm absolutely positive, sir, that at your level of training, you will have no difficulty blocking her abilities. As far as anything special, you'd have to watch out for... There's nothing extraordinary. She will eventually develop the power of suggestion, but it will only work on the weak-minded."
Standing beside Jason on the elevator, she waited until Eric had glanced away and the disk beneath their feet began it's ascent, before she reached behind and grabbed her partner's ass in a small squeeze. He clenched delightfully before she let her hand fall back to her side. All thoughts she'd had previously, worrying about the A-1 detecting her harassment of her colleague were completely absent. At this particular moment, even as she hid the fact she'd touched Jason at all, she really didn't care if the higher ranked Agent knew what she'd done.
"The "wrench" I deployed recently was a side-plan I came up with after it became apparent that Stewart was using my partner's stolen goggles to connect with us psychically over long-distance in an attempt to spy on us. I correctly predicted that she would make the attempt again once we were within range of her powers - which is 1 mile, by the way - and I decided to use the opportunity to inspire suspicion and fear towards her traveling companion, Alexander. It's my belief that separating the two of them will make Gwen considerably more vulnerable to capture."
"Since she now believes that the man who's hands she's put her life into is planning on making a deal with us and double crossing her, she will no doubt desire to leave him, especially as his behavior - as he grows more rushed to reconnect with his previous form - encourages such a belief. By the time they reach Charlton, she will no doubt take the opportunity to leave him behind and venture on her own. So even if we do not capture her at the facility in Charlton for whatever unforeseen reason, she will be alone and defenseless and it should be a piece of cake to snatch her up after that."
As they stepped off of the platform, she could not take it any longer and swiftly put out a hand to stop Jason from following Eric out the front doors. "If it's alright, sir," she said to the A-1 Agent who stopped and cocked a questioning eyebrow back at her. "I would like a moment alone with my partner. Nothing personal - I just need to go over something regarding the case." He paused to think about it and she dove ahead, "We'll just be one minute, sir. I won't be long." He seemed to consider something for a moment longer but finally gave her the okay and headed out the front doors of the building, the heavy metal clanging shut behind him, leaving the two Agents alone in a limited circle of light.
Stephanie barely waited a moment for the fading daylight to disappear from the room before she turned to Jason and swiftly delved her fingers into the curly locks on the back of his head. Wrenching him forward, her fist tightened it's hold on him and her mouth cut off any verbal protest or cry of pain he might have uttered. It was not a kiss in the strictest sense of the word but more of her smashing her face into his mouth-to-mouth, her breathing going up a few tempos as she swayed her head from side to side roughly. Then it was all teeth, and she was biting and abusing his bottom lip harshly, tugging and pulling on it until she heard him give in and groan softly in pain, before she finally let go and drew back to look at him coldly.
She did not release her hold on his hair as she stared into him but took a moment or two to calm her breathing before she spoke in her characteristic monotone. "What happened, Jason? Hm? What really happened? Oh sure, I was there when you gave your reports, but an Agent is dead, the target is gone, and ...there's not a scratch on you." Her grip tightened briefly as if she meant to correct that, but she quickly continued on. "Did Alexander threaten to fry your mind too? Were you scared after watching Jean fall to the ground with a hole in his sunglasses? It's perfectly understandable, but what I'm having difficulty comprehending is what happened before that."
"You must have had some time to engage the target. Did you? All Agents are given some amount of mental training, or did you fumble with that just like you did with your goggles? I see you got them back and I'm very happy for you." She did not sound happy at that moment. "Did you just slip them off of her face and then huddle off in a corner to tend to your wounded computer system? Or did you actually put a little effort into fighting with her? The point was to make it NOT look like we wanted them to get away. Did you screw up again?"
Stephanie pulled him closer so that they were cheek-to-cheek but not touching, all except for her hand in his hair, and with her lips hovering at his ear she said, "She read your mind, didn't she? Did she know things? Embarrassing things? Did it get you flustered? Were you distracted?" Her voice drew lower down to a whisper as she came to the next part. "Did she say things in an odd tone of voice? Did she make...suggestions that you couldn't seem to refuse? Is that how she got away?"
Pulling back from him, she searched his features with those hollow, dead eyes and found no recognition in response to her words. She'd confused him a bit, it seemed. But the paranoia that what had happened to Jean had awakened Gwen's powers fully would not leave her alone. Maybe something else had happened.
"If I find out later that her powers have reached the last levels and that you knew about it this whole time without saying anything, you will have to wait until after 6 months of medical leave before you'll be able to re-apply for a new assignment. Understand?" As she asked the last question, she roughly jerked his head as she shoved him away and let go, giving him her version of a glare as she awaited his response. Just a few more minutes of alone time left - any further explanation he had to offer to enlighten how he was able to escape unharmed would have to be given quickly, but she would not be satisfied until she got it.
The one thing she was most paranoid about was that for some other reason Jason had let the target go. She wanted to know that she could trust him when the time came to execute part 2 of this plan - she would get Gwen's body with or without his help, but she would not stand for it if he got in her way. Eric got a new body and switched skins seemingly whenever he felt like it - with a minor bit of procedure thrown in of course - and after watching him fill Jean's shoes so effortlessly, it increased her feverish need to be inside Gwen. Her own flesh was beginning to itch and ache, growing weary and tight, like someone winding a tourniquet around her core. She needed to get out and right now, Jason's assurances that he was not going to betray her - or hadn't already - was crucial to her not ending his life on the spot. NO ONE would threaten her new life. ... No matter how delicious their cries of pain tasted...
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Fri Sep 10, 2010 12:21 am
“What –” THE FUCK?
He shut his mouth before he made any serious noise, but the hand that’d just finished molesting him again still got a sound out. He jumped, tensed, then couldn’t help look up at Eric for... any kind of reaction. Something. The man wasn’t facing him. Jason was about to roll his eyes at the flawless timing his lead had when he noticed the side of the A-1’s face was brighter than before. He was laughing? He was laughing. Great. So that was another of his superiors who thought this was hilarious. He was glad to know he was so damn funny, but as he opened his mouth to try to catch the man's attention – blind eye or not, if it happened precisely when Eric was staring at them, his ‘lovely’ lead would get torn apart thanks to protocol – and get a defence against her that way, she beat him to it and humbly requested time alone. The instant she got the go-ahead, she dragged him off and – oh, come on!
Her hand was in his hair and was pulling at it sharply, clenching her fingers around it and proving exactly why he needed to shave it off. The sudden fierceness of her mouth against his, her teeth raking against his lip before devouring it, kept him from thinking of anything to say even as he felt his chest move towards her, drawing back a second before it got caught up in her attack. He stood there and let it happen, not sure if he wanted to continue chalking this up to an inside joke. It would make it easier to deal with if he kept telling himself she was trying to see how long it’d take for him to crack – which was a glaring ‘never’, so long as he concentrated on his work, but that changed when she let his face go and left her hand where it was. He didn’t know where her other was hiding, but if it wasn’t on him, he didn’t care.
“I wasn’t –” She didn’t let him explain. She yanked at his hair some more, cutting him off. Then, as if she took his lack of an answer as an admission of guilt, she went on, hitting with words harder than she’d ever managed with her body. Was she... taunting him?
Jason had his limits. It was one thing to accuse him of failing to put his all into stopping them. There weren’t any scratches on him – she was right, she always was – and any normal person should’ve seen that and questioned his involvement, but the way she kept going, bringing him closer and carving at his ear with her breath, was slowly taking him to his breaking point. She knew exactly what had happened down there. When she asked if his target had read his mind, he knew his face had twitched and given it away. That didn’t stop her from demanding about it, forcing him to put into words how disturbed the entire fight had made him. He’d thought he’d done a decent job with putting the girl out of his mind, but it flooded back as if his target’s voice was spilling from his boss’ throat. It drove him crazy.
Why in fuck did everyone assume he was being an idiot for staying quiet? He knew it put him in a terrible position. Not fighting could get this bumped up to an on-the-job relationship, and although the penalty for that was considerably less worrisome, it’d be like an axe to his credibility. But he didn’t have a choice. The Agency’s big response to any sort of problem was ‘suck it up and figure it out’. Unless she stabbed him, there wasn’t going to be any transfer and he wasn’t screwing up his prized reputation just because she made him a little squeamish. He’d handle this. He’d hold out until she gave up or ran out of use for him. Trying to challenge what she was doing and prove that, yes, he did have a spine and, no, he wasn’t going to take this shit like a snivelling servant might’ve been great for his self-esteem – and there was always the chance she’d be so blown away that she gave him a glowing review, something he scoffed at before the thought was finished – but was so likely to blow up in his face, he was better off waiting until he was out from under her control.
His breathing had picked up, too. It was out of anger instead of the exhilaration she or someone with emotions would have had running in her veins. He could’ve stopped her. He had a few ideas about what he should have been doing to respond, but he ignored them and vowed to keep a level voice. He wasn’t playing her game because the way he saw it, lashing out would’ve been the easiest answer he could’ve had and she wanted it. Saying nothing was more of a punishment and took more resolve. If she wasn’t for a rise, though, at least he didn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing.
“Our target isn’t known for being physical,” he said. She wanted a robot? Fine – he’d be a robot. There was no warmth or coldness in his words. Even if he couldn’t copy her mental defences, a trick he desperately needed to look into, he could at least mimic the way she spoke to him. “I recovered my equipment and prepared to recapture her. Unfortunately, I was caught up in watching the other fight between Jean and Benoit’s target. By the time I returned to my assignment, I got orders to let them go.”
Alright, that sounded dumb.
“It was that kid Eric brought out,” he went on. “He wasn’t in chains and he seemed to know what he was talking about. I don’t know... The way he told me leave them sounded... reasonable. Authorized. I can’t explain it any better than that. Maybe you should ask the A-1.”
She’d let go, but she might as well have stayed clinging to him for all the personal space he had left. Jason was going to change that. His goggles, left to hang from his wrist while he debated when to fix them, hadn’t stopped calling his name. He accepted it and strapped them on, immediately cringing when he saw a great, big, spectacular nothing. No parts of his environment were automatically being recognized, no information was being fed to him from the Agency database, no recognition of who he was or what his relation to the woman in front of him was supposed to be – strictly professional, minus the occasional groping – and every strand of data he’d laboriously entered... His name was still attached to it, but such a crushing hopelessness fell over him that he barely saw it as a reason for celebration. If she hadn’t been standing there, he might have genuinely crawled into a ball and stayed like that for hours.
It'd actually happened. It'd been reset.
This was beyond a loss. His body was numb. He couldn’t be in here with her any longer, not while this was happening, but as he moved his legs and started walking, he felt an unbearable detachment from his limbs and a quiet revolt from his stomach. He was a stranger in his own skin. He could feel his suit – the suit – wrapped around him, moving as he moved instead in a way he didn’t think about. That familiarity, that unity and connection more than anything seemed to hammer it in. He didn’t waste his time trying to do something about it now. He couldn’t do anything, in fact, and until he had a minute to get a fucking grip, he didn’t trust himself to wear his goggles without falling apart. So... that was that, he told himself. Not only was his life readily offered to be run by a woman with zero qualms about bodily harm and a thing for domination, but his last comfort in the midst of this chaos had been destroyed by the one girl he never thought would be a problem. He'd been lied to. That profile was wrong. His target was a sick, heartless psychopath, and little wonder she’d been getting along with Alexander. Both of them were fucked in the head, and as his sorrow overflowed into wrath, he found his hands gripping the goggles with a vengeance he didn’t want to rein in.
Had this become personal? Hell yes. Would it get him to forget that their targets needed to be alive? No. But the wording of that law didn’t say shit about what condition they had to be in. A bullet through the brain might’ve been more than they deserved, but he’d settle for a hundred in their legs, in their arms, in their shoulders – anything that counted as non-lethal but that’d get the point across. His body seized up and his throat tightened. He was supposed to wait for an order to leave, but he didn’t have the patience for it. He headed for the door, and if his lead wanted to follow, he’d be fine with it. For now, though, until this blew over, if she came near him again with whatever thought that’d started her in her ‘let’s jerk around Jason until he snaps’ mission, she’d get what she’d wanted. He’d snap. And then he’d go after her precious Gwen. As for Alex? Oh, well, he’d have to think of something special. He wouldn’t want the ‘Agent Assassin’ to feel unappreciated.
His lip hurt.
Alex had missed a lot more than he’d thought. The way Gwen explained, it was as if he’d been lost in that white emptiness for days instead of the... twenty minutes? Yeah – instead of the twenty minutes the fight seemed to have lasted. He wasn’t sure if that counted the trip outside or not. What he was more concerned about was what Xander had done to end the fight so quickly. The French guy never brought along anyone who wasn’t at the very top of their game. The fastest they’d managed to wrap something up was in a little under an hour. What she described as ‘bigger than anything she’d ever seen’ wasn’t exactly swimming in details, but if there was anything left to explain to him, it didn’t seem like she was the one with the answer.
“Sure. Cinnamon twist.” He was hungry, too. He’d get the same thing for now, but they’d have to stop for a real meal soon. “And Xander?”
Like – twenty espressos mixed with ten espressos and stirred with a cup of espresso.
“So... three dark roast?”
Blacker than night.
The fight seemed to be in his favour for now. So long as the Frenchman didn’t rush to get a replacement, Alex wouldn’t have to worry about anymore major fights from here to Charlton. The problem was what was going to happen to Gwen. If he could say anything about the Agency, they didn’t screw around. To have so much knowledge over what she could do before even she knew she could do it, and then to use it against her like that... They’d been planting ideas in her head. That explained why she’d been so angry when they’d met up at the elevator, before the headache started. He’d have to ask how something so explosively painful could be gone already, but first thing first: what else had they said to her?
“Two cinnamon twists and three, black, dark roast coffees,” Alex said, handing over whatever credit card fell out of his wallet first. Glad to see they hadn’t forgotten to bring his bag before they left. As if they needed another issue to sort out. “Large, please.”
I can see it on his face, Xander said, sounding bitter. 'I am going to take this pathetically simple order and fuck it up to high hell’. I can’t trust someone who doesn’t know the difference between chocolate and caramel. I feel so bad for that girl. What a horrible day she’s having ‘cause of this guy.
“No one’s as perfect as you are,” Alex mumbled. Back to hiding his conversation from the upstanding citizens of Elmira. He was glad this was going to be over soon. “Gwen, how do you know that’s all the information they fed you? What you said about his body being in Charlton... That has to be a trap. Or it will be, now that...” Aw, crap. “Where the hell is Nathan?”
Who?
“The one you were beating up.” As if that narrowed it down. “The kid we had with us.”
Oh, David. Dunno.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
Forgive me for placing higher priority on not having your tiny neck crushed instead of watching the shrimp that probably ‘ported away. Wah, wah, wah, why can’t we go to Starbucks? What’s it matter? We got what we wanted out of him. There’s nothing he can say that they don’t already know and he’s already shown he knows how to escape.
“But he knew the lab –”
He knew parts of it. He had no hand in getting us inside or even finding the place. The banshee was the one who did the most for us and – again, forgive me if I decide to withhold a little trust from the chick who drinks pancake syrup like water. Besides, we’re not hitting up the same lab anyway.
Alex sighed and ran a hand through his hair, stopping to rub the gigantic bruise on the back of his skull. So Xander had a point and they didn’t need David. He didn’t think it was right not to care about where he ended up, though. Crazy or not, he was just like them: stolen by the Agency, mashed into a new way of life, and trying to escape before they caught him again and did something even worse. But it wasn’t like he could help now. If they wanted to be heroes, they’d have to keep going and look after themselves before they thought about saving the others.
“We’re going to go back once we have this under control,” he said – to Gwen, because he doubted Xander cared very much. “If we know where Nathan’s body – uh... bodies are, we might be able to put him back together.”
If he’s alive.
“Well... We’ll save whoever is.”
That’s very noble of you, Xander said, breezily. Can I have my coffee now?
Alex took the order and juggled his wallet around until he had a hand free enough to give Gwen her share. Then, before he got an earful, he promptly pushed the three cups back and told the guy, “I asked for black.”
“That’s black.”
“No, this very clearly has something in it,” he said. “I can see the lines.”
The guy looked into the cups, winced and shook his head.
“Sorry,” was the answer he had for Alex. “That other girl – the maniac – kept asking for caramel.”
Took your ass long enough to get it right.
“I’ll remake it...” But he said it in the kind of voice that meant he really, really didn’t want to.
It’s fine. Let’s go.
Alex blinked and scratched his ear. For a second, it sounded like he’d heard something crazy.
“Are you... sure?” That was a trap. That was definitely a trap. Even as Alex asked, his hand moved forward to push the coffees back across the counter. “I don’t want to spend a day hearing you –”
Dude, it’s fine. Take it and go, let’s move.
And with that clarified, he turned and gave Gwen his most obvious ‘what the hell happened’ face he had in his bag of expressions.
“Okay...” Alex shoved the cups into a tray and gave the barista a short nod of his head. “You’re completely positive?”
Just drink the damn thing! How’re we gettin’ out of here?
He thought about it, and as the three of them – ‘three’ was a number he used figuratively – headed for the door, he began to absently sip the closest cup to his face. He almost spat it out and threw the tray to the ground when the terrible taste of too-dark coffee swirled around his mouth. An aftertaste he could put up with, but holy crap. People drank this stuff on a daily basis?
“You’re not having any?” It felt like something he should’ve asked sarcastically, but he meant it. “You’re supposed to take over my mouth before I have to actually consume it.”
I’m tired.
“You’re too tired to drink coffee? You?”
Hey, unless you want my first act of power to be your fist up your ass, put the fucking coffee –
“Alright, alright! I’ll drink it. Geez.” He was very happy to have the caramel in it. Even if it barely made a difference, it was better than drinking it straight. Ugh. Awful. And, unfortunately, worse because it wasn’t the Starbucks swill he was used to. “We’re going to come up with a plan on the way to Charlton. A real one this time.” Xander. “You might be on to something about using their stupid lie against them.” It was unbelievable that they thought it would’ve worked. It hardly made sense anyway. “It’s not like I would’ve said yes to those body-snatchers, but I haven’t spent more than a minute in a room with them without someone trying to kill me. As far as cutting a deal goes, that’s not quite on the table.”
And turn in Gwen? How could she think that? He knew they’d only been wandering around together for a couple of days – the ‘living in the same building’ deal didn’t count if they’d never talked to each other – but he would’ve hoped he’d made a better impression on her. Was he really still a threat?
Xander, because he’d been returned to riding in the passenger seat, was back to picking up on his thoughts. Or feelings. Or something. That still hadn’t been cleared up. Anyway, he took that opportunity to demand more coffee and shoot out, Oh, no, you’re fine. I’m the rogue Agent. No one trusts me. Just forget all the shit I’ve done for you and everything. I’m used to it.
Even that robot-woman would’ve rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, and it’s completely unfair because you go out of your way to make sure we feel we can count on you.”
I think ‘not getting murdered’ is right up there ‘reliable’. But whatever. I’m the bad guy.
“We love you, Xander,” Alex said. “You’re our hero.”
Eat shit. Then, as an afterthought, he threw in a quick, And keep drinking. It’s like I’m stuck in here.
“... What?”
Not like you.
Oh.
“But he made a good point,” Alex said. “How are we getting out of the city? Are you going to be okay with travelling all night? I can sleep on the way if I have to so don’t worry about me.”
He shut his mouth before he made any serious noise, but the hand that’d just finished molesting him again still got a sound out. He jumped, tensed, then couldn’t help look up at Eric for... any kind of reaction. Something. The man wasn’t facing him. Jason was about to roll his eyes at the flawless timing his lead had when he noticed the side of the A-1’s face was brighter than before. He was laughing? He was laughing. Great. So that was another of his superiors who thought this was hilarious. He was glad to know he was so damn funny, but as he opened his mouth to try to catch the man's attention – blind eye or not, if it happened precisely when Eric was staring at them, his ‘lovely’ lead would get torn apart thanks to protocol – and get a defence against her that way, she beat him to it and humbly requested time alone. The instant she got the go-ahead, she dragged him off and – oh, come on!
Her hand was in his hair and was pulling at it sharply, clenching her fingers around it and proving exactly why he needed to shave it off. The sudden fierceness of her mouth against his, her teeth raking against his lip before devouring it, kept him from thinking of anything to say even as he felt his chest move towards her, drawing back a second before it got caught up in her attack. He stood there and let it happen, not sure if he wanted to continue chalking this up to an inside joke. It would make it easier to deal with if he kept telling himself she was trying to see how long it’d take for him to crack – which was a glaring ‘never’, so long as he concentrated on his work, but that changed when she let his face go and left her hand where it was. He didn’t know where her other was hiding, but if it wasn’t on him, he didn’t care.
“I wasn’t –” She didn’t let him explain. She yanked at his hair some more, cutting him off. Then, as if she took his lack of an answer as an admission of guilt, she went on, hitting with words harder than she’d ever managed with her body. Was she... taunting him?
Jason had his limits. It was one thing to accuse him of failing to put his all into stopping them. There weren’t any scratches on him – she was right, she always was – and any normal person should’ve seen that and questioned his involvement, but the way she kept going, bringing him closer and carving at his ear with her breath, was slowly taking him to his breaking point. She knew exactly what had happened down there. When she asked if his target had read his mind, he knew his face had twitched and given it away. That didn’t stop her from demanding about it, forcing him to put into words how disturbed the entire fight had made him. He’d thought he’d done a decent job with putting the girl out of his mind, but it flooded back as if his target’s voice was spilling from his boss’ throat. It drove him crazy.
Why in fuck did everyone assume he was being an idiot for staying quiet? He knew it put him in a terrible position. Not fighting could get this bumped up to an on-the-job relationship, and although the penalty for that was considerably less worrisome, it’d be like an axe to his credibility. But he didn’t have a choice. The Agency’s big response to any sort of problem was ‘suck it up and figure it out’. Unless she stabbed him, there wasn’t going to be any transfer and he wasn’t screwing up his prized reputation just because she made him a little squeamish. He’d handle this. He’d hold out until she gave up or ran out of use for him. Trying to challenge what she was doing and prove that, yes, he did have a spine and, no, he wasn’t going to take this shit like a snivelling servant might’ve been great for his self-esteem – and there was always the chance she’d be so blown away that she gave him a glowing review, something he scoffed at before the thought was finished – but was so likely to blow up in his face, he was better off waiting until he was out from under her control.
His breathing had picked up, too. It was out of anger instead of the exhilaration she or someone with emotions would have had running in her veins. He could’ve stopped her. He had a few ideas about what he should have been doing to respond, but he ignored them and vowed to keep a level voice. He wasn’t playing her game because the way he saw it, lashing out would’ve been the easiest answer he could’ve had and she wanted it. Saying nothing was more of a punishment and took more resolve. If she wasn’t for a rise, though, at least he didn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing.
“Our target isn’t known for being physical,” he said. She wanted a robot? Fine – he’d be a robot. There was no warmth or coldness in his words. Even if he couldn’t copy her mental defences, a trick he desperately needed to look into, he could at least mimic the way she spoke to him. “I recovered my equipment and prepared to recapture her. Unfortunately, I was caught up in watching the other fight between Jean and Benoit’s target. By the time I returned to my assignment, I got orders to let them go.”
Alright, that sounded dumb.
“It was that kid Eric brought out,” he went on. “He wasn’t in chains and he seemed to know what he was talking about. I don’t know... The way he told me leave them sounded... reasonable. Authorized. I can’t explain it any better than that. Maybe you should ask the A-1.”
She’d let go, but she might as well have stayed clinging to him for all the personal space he had left. Jason was going to change that. His goggles, left to hang from his wrist while he debated when to fix them, hadn’t stopped calling his name. He accepted it and strapped them on, immediately cringing when he saw a great, big, spectacular nothing. No parts of his environment were automatically being recognized, no information was being fed to him from the Agency database, no recognition of who he was or what his relation to the woman in front of him was supposed to be – strictly professional, minus the occasional groping – and every strand of data he’d laboriously entered... His name was still attached to it, but such a crushing hopelessness fell over him that he barely saw it as a reason for celebration. If she hadn’t been standing there, he might have genuinely crawled into a ball and stayed like that for hours.
It'd actually happened. It'd been reset.
This was beyond a loss. His body was numb. He couldn’t be in here with her any longer, not while this was happening, but as he moved his legs and started walking, he felt an unbearable detachment from his limbs and a quiet revolt from his stomach. He was a stranger in his own skin. He could feel his suit – the suit – wrapped around him, moving as he moved instead in a way he didn’t think about. That familiarity, that unity and connection more than anything seemed to hammer it in. He didn’t waste his time trying to do something about it now. He couldn’t do anything, in fact, and until he had a minute to get a fucking grip, he didn’t trust himself to wear his goggles without falling apart. So... that was that, he told himself. Not only was his life readily offered to be run by a woman with zero qualms about bodily harm and a thing for domination, but his last comfort in the midst of this chaos had been destroyed by the one girl he never thought would be a problem. He'd been lied to. That profile was wrong. His target was a sick, heartless psychopath, and little wonder she’d been getting along with Alexander. Both of them were fucked in the head, and as his sorrow overflowed into wrath, he found his hands gripping the goggles with a vengeance he didn’t want to rein in.
Had this become personal? Hell yes. Would it get him to forget that their targets needed to be alive? No. But the wording of that law didn’t say shit about what condition they had to be in. A bullet through the brain might’ve been more than they deserved, but he’d settle for a hundred in their legs, in their arms, in their shoulders – anything that counted as non-lethal but that’d get the point across. His body seized up and his throat tightened. He was supposed to wait for an order to leave, but he didn’t have the patience for it. He headed for the door, and if his lead wanted to follow, he’d be fine with it. For now, though, until this blew over, if she came near him again with whatever thought that’d started her in her ‘let’s jerk around Jason until he snaps’ mission, she’d get what she’d wanted. He’d snap. And then he’d go after her precious Gwen. As for Alex? Oh, well, he’d have to think of something special. He wouldn’t want the ‘Agent Assassin’ to feel unappreciated.
His lip hurt.
* * *
Alex had missed a lot more than he’d thought. The way Gwen explained, it was as if he’d been lost in that white emptiness for days instead of the... twenty minutes? Yeah – instead of the twenty minutes the fight seemed to have lasted. He wasn’t sure if that counted the trip outside or not. What he was more concerned about was what Xander had done to end the fight so quickly. The French guy never brought along anyone who wasn’t at the very top of their game. The fastest they’d managed to wrap something up was in a little under an hour. What she described as ‘bigger than anything she’d ever seen’ wasn’t exactly swimming in details, but if there was anything left to explain to him, it didn’t seem like she was the one with the answer.
“Sure. Cinnamon twist.” He was hungry, too. He’d get the same thing for now, but they’d have to stop for a real meal soon. “And Xander?”
Like – twenty espressos mixed with ten espressos and stirred with a cup of espresso.
“So... three dark roast?”
Blacker than night.
The fight seemed to be in his favour for now. So long as the Frenchman didn’t rush to get a replacement, Alex wouldn’t have to worry about anymore major fights from here to Charlton. The problem was what was going to happen to Gwen. If he could say anything about the Agency, they didn’t screw around. To have so much knowledge over what she could do before even she knew she could do it, and then to use it against her like that... They’d been planting ideas in her head. That explained why she’d been so angry when they’d met up at the elevator, before the headache started. He’d have to ask how something so explosively painful could be gone already, but first thing first: what else had they said to her?
“Two cinnamon twists and three, black, dark roast coffees,” Alex said, handing over whatever credit card fell out of his wallet first. Glad to see they hadn’t forgotten to bring his bag before they left. As if they needed another issue to sort out. “Large, please.”
I can see it on his face, Xander said, sounding bitter. 'I am going to take this pathetically simple order and fuck it up to high hell’. I can’t trust someone who doesn’t know the difference between chocolate and caramel. I feel so bad for that girl. What a horrible day she’s having ‘cause of this guy.
“No one’s as perfect as you are,” Alex mumbled. Back to hiding his conversation from the upstanding citizens of Elmira. He was glad this was going to be over soon. “Gwen, how do you know that’s all the information they fed you? What you said about his body being in Charlton... That has to be a trap. Or it will be, now that...” Aw, crap. “Where the hell is Nathan?”
Who?
“The one you were beating up.” As if that narrowed it down. “The kid we had with us.”
Oh, David. Dunno.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
Forgive me for placing higher priority on not having your tiny neck crushed instead of watching the shrimp that probably ‘ported away. Wah, wah, wah, why can’t we go to Starbucks? What’s it matter? We got what we wanted out of him. There’s nothing he can say that they don’t already know and he’s already shown he knows how to escape.
“But he knew the lab –”
He knew parts of it. He had no hand in getting us inside or even finding the place. The banshee was the one who did the most for us and – again, forgive me if I decide to withhold a little trust from the chick who drinks pancake syrup like water. Besides, we’re not hitting up the same lab anyway.
Alex sighed and ran a hand through his hair, stopping to rub the gigantic bruise on the back of his skull. So Xander had a point and they didn’t need David. He didn’t think it was right not to care about where he ended up, though. Crazy or not, he was just like them: stolen by the Agency, mashed into a new way of life, and trying to escape before they caught him again and did something even worse. But it wasn’t like he could help now. If they wanted to be heroes, they’d have to keep going and look after themselves before they thought about saving the others.
“We’re going to go back once we have this under control,” he said – to Gwen, because he doubted Xander cared very much. “If we know where Nathan’s body – uh... bodies are, we might be able to put him back together.”
If he’s alive.
“Well... We’ll save whoever is.”
That’s very noble of you, Xander said, breezily. Can I have my coffee now?
Alex took the order and juggled his wallet around until he had a hand free enough to give Gwen her share. Then, before he got an earful, he promptly pushed the three cups back and told the guy, “I asked for black.”
“That’s black.”
“No, this very clearly has something in it,” he said. “I can see the lines.”
The guy looked into the cups, winced and shook his head.
“Sorry,” was the answer he had for Alex. “That other girl – the maniac – kept asking for caramel.”
Took your ass long enough to get it right.
“I’ll remake it...” But he said it in the kind of voice that meant he really, really didn’t want to.
It’s fine. Let’s go.
Alex blinked and scratched his ear. For a second, it sounded like he’d heard something crazy.
“Are you... sure?” That was a trap. That was definitely a trap. Even as Alex asked, his hand moved forward to push the coffees back across the counter. “I don’t want to spend a day hearing you –”
Dude, it’s fine. Take it and go, let’s move.
And with that clarified, he turned and gave Gwen his most obvious ‘what the hell happened’ face he had in his bag of expressions.
“Okay...” Alex shoved the cups into a tray and gave the barista a short nod of his head. “You’re completely positive?”
Just drink the damn thing! How’re we gettin’ out of here?
He thought about it, and as the three of them – ‘three’ was a number he used figuratively – headed for the door, he began to absently sip the closest cup to his face. He almost spat it out and threw the tray to the ground when the terrible taste of too-dark coffee swirled around his mouth. An aftertaste he could put up with, but holy crap. People drank this stuff on a daily basis?
“You’re not having any?” It felt like something he should’ve asked sarcastically, but he meant it. “You’re supposed to take over my mouth before I have to actually consume it.”
I’m tired.
“You’re too tired to drink coffee? You?”
Hey, unless you want my first act of power to be your fist up your ass, put the fucking coffee –
“Alright, alright! I’ll drink it. Geez.” He was very happy to have the caramel in it. Even if it barely made a difference, it was better than drinking it straight. Ugh. Awful. And, unfortunately, worse because it wasn’t the Starbucks swill he was used to. “We’re going to come up with a plan on the way to Charlton. A real one this time.” Xander. “You might be on to something about using their stupid lie against them.” It was unbelievable that they thought it would’ve worked. It hardly made sense anyway. “It’s not like I would’ve said yes to those body-snatchers, but I haven’t spent more than a minute in a room with them without someone trying to kill me. As far as cutting a deal goes, that’s not quite on the table.”
And turn in Gwen? How could she think that? He knew they’d only been wandering around together for a couple of days – the ‘living in the same building’ deal didn’t count if they’d never talked to each other – but he would’ve hoped he’d made a better impression on her. Was he really still a threat?
Xander, because he’d been returned to riding in the passenger seat, was back to picking up on his thoughts. Or feelings. Or something. That still hadn’t been cleared up. Anyway, he took that opportunity to demand more coffee and shoot out, Oh, no, you’re fine. I’m the rogue Agent. No one trusts me. Just forget all the shit I’ve done for you and everything. I’m used to it.
Even that robot-woman would’ve rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, and it’s completely unfair because you go out of your way to make sure we feel we can count on you.”
I think ‘not getting murdered’ is right up there ‘reliable’. But whatever. I’m the bad guy.
“We love you, Xander,” Alex said. “You’re our hero.”
Eat shit. Then, as an afterthought, he threw in a quick, And keep drinking. It’s like I’m stuck in here.
“... What?”
Not like you.
Oh.
“But he made a good point,” Alex said. “How are we getting out of the city? Are you going to be okay with travelling all night? I can sleep on the way if I have to so don’t worry about me.”
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Fri Sep 10, 2010 1:09 pm
There it was again. That thing he was always doing whenever she treated him this way - he was ignoring her. Well, her naughty behavior, anyway; he was still answering her questions in the dutiful way that her rank demanded of him. But the ass grope, the kiss, even all the shit she'd put his leg through on the car ride here, was going unchallenged. And they were completely alone in this moment. THAT was very significant to her. He could have railed at her and said anything he wanted - so long as he kept it in here and his words out of earshot of anyone else, she would have let him have his say...and then she would have threatened and taunted him some more. But he wasn't even taking the VERY clear opening he had to confront her!
Stephanie found herself stunned again, even as she listened to him finish a more detailed report of what had happened, she blinked at him and felt her heart racing, the beat thundering in her ears like a galloping horse. God...why did he have to be so tempting...so strong-willed and vulnerable...? Why couldn't she just let it go and focus on what was important? Even as she had that thought, her pursuit of his breaking point firmed even more solidly in her mind and she vowed not to give up until she had him begging at her feet.
He could have discounted the first bit of stroking against his leg as something else, but this had long ago gone past something either of them could just shove under the rug. That's why she saw his refusal to react as an admission that he was playing her game. Silly boy. Men much more resolute and firm of mind and spirit had bent at knee and back before her. How dare he think to challenge her. And Stephanie vowed, right then and there, that before she was ready for the body transfer, she would hear that delightful, pleading note come from his tongue.
Thinking that brought her back into focus on the case and she was once again strictly paying attention to what he was telling her - although she did take a moment to smirk at the distant and withdrawn tone he'd adopted. Nathan had given him orders? Was he kidding? At his suggestion for her to ask Eric about it she agreed, that was a good idea. What was going on here? Did it have something to do with that special secret project he'd been on about when presenting the boy to them downstairs?
Then she felt herself distracted once again as he slipped his goggles over his face, for the first time since he'd gotten them back no doubt. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched sorrow and pure grief ripple through his features and his entire body before everything tensed up and it disappeared. Oh, sweet mother of... Goodness, that was yummy. How badly she wanted to push him further right then, just to see if she could get him to actually cry - she had no doubt she could find the right buttons to push - but then there was an anger she was all too familiar with, coming off him in waves. He was playing the statue game again, but Stephanie had spent enough time studying emotions and how they were displayed to be able to see it in his steps as he turned away from her. Afterall, his mask wasn't flawless like hers was, and even as much as she wanted to play with him some more, their time was up.
So, she allowed him to break protocol and take his leave without waiting for her permission - making a note to come up with a punishment later - following behind him out into the bright glow of late afternoon. Eric and Benoit were already waiting for them in the car, Benoit sitting in the back and almost pouting from getting kicked out of his usual place in the front passenger seat, and Eric smiling easily as Jason approached the driver's side with an almost obvious eagerness in his steps. Of course, anything to get away from sitting next to her for the next two days. Luckily, the seat behind the driver's was left open for her, so she'd still have access to him. Quickly, they both settled in and Jason got the car running and was driving back down the hill down to the main road and they were heading on their way.
As the scenery passed by the car in a blur and silence dominated the air once again, Stephanie began to feel strangely stifled. It could have been the fact that the past 32 hours she'd spent more time in the car than she was used to or maybe it was the added pressure put on her shoulders from watching Eric switch bodies and having her "toy" moved out of comfortable reach. For whatever reason, her designer suit was starting to itch on her skin and she found herself suffocating and burning up. For several moments, she tried adjusting her position, first leaning a little towards Benoit and then switching to lean more towards her door, folding and then refolding her legs - but every which way just seemed more uncomfortable than the last and she was growing frustrated by the restrictions of space.
The air in the car was growing tight in her lungs and her skin slightly flushed as her fingers idly began to undo the ebony buttons on her scarlet suit jacket. Opening it up seemed to help considerably, but it still wasn't enough and there was barely a pause as she began to take it off all the way. Cleanly ironed fabric slowly slipped from creamy, bare shoulders, the natural, healthy golden cast of her skin emphasized by the setting of the orange sun, and she gently set the article of clothing on the seat between her and Benoit. What was left after it's removal was a slimming black tank top with inch thick straps and a neckline that dipped low enough to show the top mound of each breast, her ample busom accented by the form-fitting top. Her dress pants were of the same shade of black and all together, her slender body and natural curves led the eye along in smooth, uninterrupted lines from top to bottom.
Even with the heavy and restricting suit removed, Stephanie still did not seem satisfied and started to roll her window all the way down. Leaning slightly towards it, she closed her eyes for a few moments and took in slow deep breaths, trying to clear her head and cool down. Hair that was normally pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of her neck, started to release small strands of flaxen silk to whip around her face wildly in the wind from the window. The fresh breeze helped, but the rest of her body suffered in the cocoon of the car and she shifted restlessly in place.
Turning towards Benoit, she did not look at him but grabbed the top of the seat separating them and reached across him with her other hand to roll down his window as well. No contact was made between them, but she was definitely invading his personal space and didn't seem to either care or realize it. The slender and graceful slope of her neck and collar bone was right at level with his face, hovering about 6 inches from him, and from the way she was turned towards him, he would get a perfect view down the middle of her shirt - if he happened to be looking, that is.
Once his window was down, she sat back in her seat once more, "It's hot in here..." her only explanation, murmured as if she couldn't be bothered to offer more. Still, she did not feel like it was enough, as if she were stuck inside a slow moving shell with the sun beating down on them. Reaching forward quickly, she smacked Jason lightly on the back of the head and demanded, "Roll down your window." Waiting for him to comply, she sat back again and laid her head against the headrest and closed her eyes briefly, letting the air flow across her between the two windows and filling the backseat. She considered asking Eric to roll his window down as well, but since the current air flow seemed to be working to ease the heat that had been filling her, she decided to let it go.
It wasn't really clear what was wrong with her and she didn't even know or consciously realize that she was acting strangely. It seemed perfectly reasonable that after hours of being stuck in a car with men, that her body would resist being shoved into the same situation again. Now she felt much more at ease however, having freed herself from the confining garment she wore almost all the time - except when she was sleeping - and it did not occur to her that the way she'd gone about it and the way she was dressed now, was somewhat inappropriate and a bit unprofessional.
Sitting upright again with her eyes reopened, she started to smooth the loose strands of hair back into place, but they'd already gotten free from her hair band and would need to be reinserted to become apart of the whole again. Slipping the band off of pale, golden strands that dipped just below her shoulders, she was starting to pull it all back again before she realized how good it felt to have it all out for once - her hair being tied back also a constant part of her attire. So, instead, using her fingers like a comb, she ran her hand through her hair and let it spill fully over her shoulders in a straight, golden waterfall and tossed the hair band onto her red jacket, instantly forgetting about it the moment it was gone from her grasp.
With the cooler wind blowing through the car now, there came a dryness and she only realized it when she attempted to rub her lips together and they seemed to scrape and drag at each other. Reaching into the pocket of her jacket, she pulled out a small hand mirror and her lipstick and began to reapply it - Jason had taken some of the color with him when she'd attempted to eat his face - and she found herself studying her own features for the first time in what felt like forever. Stephanie knew she was an attractive woman, but every time she looked at herself and caught that blank stare looking back at her, she cringed internally. Heaven knew she'd given up a lot for this case - willingly, one might add - but she'd been unhappy with more than just her looks for a long time even before she'd known who Gwen Stewart was. But the original self-loathing was always exaggerated every time she looked herself in the mirror now, and after watching Eric take over Jean's body, she felt a new surge of excitement to remove herself from her own skin.
Snapping the mirror shut, she looked to the front passenger seat with a piercing eye and began to scoot forward in her seat so she perched between the front seats. As a result, her waist and thigh slid up against Benoit's and instead of removing herself and giving him space, she allowed the physical contact to remain, preferring to ignore it. When she spoke, her usual emotionless facade was shaken loose to hint at emotions just under the surface. "Tell me about the body transfer process. Everything that you know about it," she said to Eric in a barely deferential tone. "How was the idea originally thought up? What was it like the first time you did it? What is it like to switch bodies? What does it feel like to be Jean?"
Anyone listening to her could almost detect an almost aroused tone to her voice, but it was so mixed with her usual deadpan, it could be shrugged away as something on the wind. It did not occur to her to consider Benoit's feelings about the subject of conversation, but even so, her knee lightly swayed against his in a surreptitious stroking gesture.
"I want to know about your personal experiences with the process, mostly," she added some of the emptiness returning to her voice.
Even before Alex knew there was something wrong, Gwen detected it and her heart fell through the floor as the man behind the counter set the cups onto the counter. Oh, Dean, why couldn't he just have done it right? Why did he have to screw this order up? But as she was cringing, waiting for Xander's response to the problem after Alex expertly identified the order had been messed, she did a double take and ended up meeting Alex's eyes when he gave her a completely flabbergasted look. Hiding a smile, Gwen began to eat her cinnamon twist - it was not fresh, having been baked sometime earlier in the day - but it still wasn't too hard and crusty not to enjoy and managed to melt in her mouth with every bite.
Out on the street again, she lightly clung to Alex's thoughts, moving with his consciousness as she stayed beside him physically - her tongue eagerly licking at the pastry when her own mouth filled with that hard coffee taste - and she looked at him guiltily as he considered the other part of the plan she'd stupidly fallen for. She didn't know how to tell him how convincing Stephanie had been, or how she'd felt like a throw away nobody compared to what the Agency was purportedly offering. And of course, it hadn't been him who her suspicions had fallen on - Xander had been in control at the time and she hadn't known if she'd ever get a chance to see Alex in the flesh again before they got to Charlton.
Xander of course picked up on this easily and although she was glad she didn't have to fumble awkwardly to explain to Alex that she did trust him, she found herself getting mad at the other man's tone. The question Alex asked went ignored as she swallowed the bite of cinnamon pastry in her mouth and turned on him with an angry look.
"Are you actually going to play that card?" she asked Xander, seeing through Alex to the man underneath, hiding and pouting in fatigue at the back of his mind. "Seriously? Oh, sure, you've saved my life a bunch of times, but you haven't done anything to inspire a feeling of safety when I'm around you. If I'm not being dragged this way and that by your crazy whims that constantly put us at risk, then I'm dragging you around and trying to figure out what I should be doing not to get us all fucking killed. Even when you were conscious, I felt like I was alone! If it hadn't been for Alex, I would have left! You treat me just like you treat Alex and everybody else - we're all afterthoughts when it comes to whatever you feel like doing. And don't try to deny that the thing you liked most about me was that I'm a convenient pair of eyes to add to your little quest."
She shook her head angrily and looked away but she wasn't done. "So, go ahead and pretend you're a misunderstood victim and we're all just ungrateful bastards. 'Cause there's just absolutely noooOOOoooo frigging reason why we'd all be walking on eggshells around you, after you've bent over backwards to make us feel like you're dependable or at least half-way SANE!"
When her eyes were turned back onto him, they were a bright sapphire shining in the light of the early evening descending upon them and she said, "And how about a little gratitude yourself!? You always assume you're so frigging important and act as if we should be fawning over you! Well, if anything that David jerk had to say was even remotely true, then YOU'RE the one who has to worry about fading away! So this whole walking into a trap at Charlton thing is us doing you a fucking favor!"
Pausing for breath, she felt the heat of anger still burning at her tongue and she quickly rushed ahead with it. "If there wasn't that sliver of doubt that you'd end up taking Alex with you when you decided to die, then I wouldn't think twice about letting whatever's gonna happen to you, happen."
That wasn't true and immediately after the words left her mouth, she was sorry she'd said them. She was extremely grateful for everything he'd done for them - for HER - but most of the things she'd said about how he'd made her feel was true. She was just an object to him, a nifty toy to help him out when he fell over and lost control in public. Even so, there was more to this current plan then just the necessity to get rid of the threat he presented to her friend, it was to help him too because he had been very instrumental to keeping not only her alive, but Alex as well - for years. But she couldn't bring herself to take any of it back or let him know that wasn't really why she was doing this. Instead, she turned her head away from him with a sigh and said, "Let's just go."
Looking further down the street, back the way they'd come, she reached out to the area to make sure they weren't being followed. No doubt they were, but at least not the way they'd left the facility. Probing the surrounding area and the bus station, she found a bus that would take them at least halfway there - reading the mind of the driver was particularly pleasant and simple, especially with the detailed map he provided - and she nodded in that direction. "Let's take a bus out of the city. And I'll be fine as far as traveling goes." Taking another bite of her pastry - feeling bitter in her mouth now and grown cold during her rant - she tugged lightly on Alex's sleeve and led the way, seemingly unbothered by her flash of anger.
Approaching the line of idling vehicles, the air became thick with exhaust fumes and she almost tossed away her meal for the taste it put in her mouth. As they boarded the appropriate bus, Gwen searched the rows for a seat and noticed immediately near the back, the woman from the coffee shop. Of course, she had to be on this bus. There were still some empty seats near the back and she led the way to a row not too far from the rebellious woman. There were three seats in the row that they chose, all nicely cushioned but definitely displaying the wear and tear of public transportation, and Gwen allowed Alex to take the inner most seat next to the window. Glancing back between the rows, Osono had not even noticed them and was busy listening to some heavy metal music with barely intelligible lyrics. Turning back to Alex, she finished her meal and settled in her seat, hoping that the stops the bus had to make wouldn't put too much of a delay on the trip itself. She just wanted all of this to be over as soon as possible.
Osono was busily bobbing her head to the beat blaring through her skull when her small dark eyes trailed to look out the window and she tensed. "Shit...!" she muttered under her breath and turned off the music, tugging her headphones off and tucking them away again. Frantically, she searched the bus for something and found it a few seats away, quickly rising from her seat and plopping down in the empty spot right next to Gwen. For a moment, she sat there and continued to look around warily, her mind working a mile a minute to come up with a plan - at the moment, opportunity was being a cold bitch.
"Hey," she finally said turning to nod at first Gwen and then Alex, not recognizing either of them from their brief encounter earlier. "I don't mean to impose upon you guys, but I'm gonna adopt you for a while." She lifted herself up a little in her seat and looked around to try and see the front of the bus and quickly plopped back down as if she'd caught sight of something she'd rather not have seen. Turning to give them a chagrined look, she said, "Someone's...following me..."
Gwen's eyes popped open at that and the first thing she thought of was Agents, but quickly discarded the thought. No, that was absurd. Not everybody was involved with the Agency like they were. And she abandoned the suspicion completely as a man approached them with a relaxed smile on his face, slipping into the empty row in front of them. Leaning over the backs of the chairs, he didn't even seem to notice the people sitting next to her as he said, "Ozzie! I finally caught up with you! Who're your friends?" The slender man was particularly short, with a handsome, youthful face, and short light brown hair, but other than seemingly kind of a dork, Gwen couldn't sense anything about him. Not even a direct age. It wasn't like he was an Agent, but rather more like Xander - she could sense things about his body and occasionally snippets of information made it through to her reach, but anything conclusive was still evading her grasp.
From the way that Osono reacted however, she was surprised at the degree of hate the woman had for him. Apparently he'd been following her for a long time... At his question, she turned to Gwen with a semi-pleading look in her eyes, so much so that she felt moved enough to help her out a little. "Uh, I'm Stacy and this is my boyfriend...Ben." That didn't sound too much like it had been made up on the spot, did it?
"Ah, cool, cool," he said nodding with that ingratiating grin again, finally turning to eyeball first her and then Alex. "I'm Quin. Nice to meet you both. Ozzie, do you mind...?" He made a gesture with his neck and patted the seat next to himself as if he wished for her to leave them and join him privately instead - it almost had the hint of a relationship to it and if it hadn't been for "Ozzie's" extreme loathing flaring up when he asked, Gwen might have assumed from his behavior alone that the two were involved.
"I'm with people, Rudy. Just go choke and die, alright?" Even with her completely acerbic tone, Quin or Rudy or whatever, seemed more amused by her response than a normal person should have been.
"I would, but see I'm kinda hesitant to turn my back on you. I almost lost you in that explosion at the gas station back in South Beach - I lost my Chevy, by the way, and I'm now suffering litigation for a discarded cigarette butt that wasn't mine..." even though he wasn't looking at them anymore, mostly focusing on the woman sitting next to her, Gwen got the feeling the guy was saying all of this for their benefit. He was surreptitiously trying to make Ozzie look dangerous. It proved to be unnecessary however... "I was scared that you might have gotten hurt in all of that."
"Oh? Well, personally, I'm upset that you weren't," was her response, thrown back flippantly.
"Ha! Oh, you!" he said as if she were joking - but she wasn't. Turning to Gwen and Alex he said, "Don't you just love that about her? So feisty! Mm!" His light voice uttering drooling praise was cut short as a harsh buzzing hum started and he jerked upright slightly with a small surprised look. Even before he said anything, Gwen could feel the vibration in his pocket.
"Oop! ♫ Someone is texting me! ♪" he said in an almost flamboyant, sing-song tone of voice. Turning back to Osono, he held up a finger as he dug into his pocket with the other hand. "Just a second, now you stay put! Don't go getting lost!"
"I recommend that you do..." she murmured as he disappeared on the other side of the barrier of seats. A hand drifted to her forehead and she rubbed her temples in a soothing manner before whispering in their direction, "Do either of you have any aspirin on you? Or possibly a gun to put me out of my misery?" The implication was for her to shoot herself in the head, but from probing into the other woman's mind, she realized it was much more likely for Osono to use the weapon on the man who'd followed her onto the bus.
Glancing at Alex, Gwen gave him a small questioning look and pulsed,
What do you think?
Stephanie found herself stunned again, even as she listened to him finish a more detailed report of what had happened, she blinked at him and felt her heart racing, the beat thundering in her ears like a galloping horse. God...why did he have to be so tempting...so strong-willed and vulnerable...? Why couldn't she just let it go and focus on what was important? Even as she had that thought, her pursuit of his breaking point firmed even more solidly in her mind and she vowed not to give up until she had him begging at her feet.
He could have discounted the first bit of stroking against his leg as something else, but this had long ago gone past something either of them could just shove under the rug. That's why she saw his refusal to react as an admission that he was playing her game. Silly boy. Men much more resolute and firm of mind and spirit had bent at knee and back before her. How dare he think to challenge her. And Stephanie vowed, right then and there, that before she was ready for the body transfer, she would hear that delightful, pleading note come from his tongue.
Thinking that brought her back into focus on the case and she was once again strictly paying attention to what he was telling her - although she did take a moment to smirk at the distant and withdrawn tone he'd adopted. Nathan had given him orders? Was he kidding? At his suggestion for her to ask Eric about it she agreed, that was a good idea. What was going on here? Did it have something to do with that special secret project he'd been on about when presenting the boy to them downstairs?
Then she felt herself distracted once again as he slipped his goggles over his face, for the first time since he'd gotten them back no doubt. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched sorrow and pure grief ripple through his features and his entire body before everything tensed up and it disappeared. Oh, sweet mother of... Goodness, that was yummy. How badly she wanted to push him further right then, just to see if she could get him to actually cry - she had no doubt she could find the right buttons to push - but then there was an anger she was all too familiar with, coming off him in waves. He was playing the statue game again, but Stephanie had spent enough time studying emotions and how they were displayed to be able to see it in his steps as he turned away from her. Afterall, his mask wasn't flawless like hers was, and even as much as she wanted to play with him some more, their time was up.
So, she allowed him to break protocol and take his leave without waiting for her permission - making a note to come up with a punishment later - following behind him out into the bright glow of late afternoon. Eric and Benoit were already waiting for them in the car, Benoit sitting in the back and almost pouting from getting kicked out of his usual place in the front passenger seat, and Eric smiling easily as Jason approached the driver's side with an almost obvious eagerness in his steps. Of course, anything to get away from sitting next to her for the next two days. Luckily, the seat behind the driver's was left open for her, so she'd still have access to him. Quickly, they both settled in and Jason got the car running and was driving back down the hill down to the main road and they were heading on their way.
As the scenery passed by the car in a blur and silence dominated the air once again, Stephanie began to feel strangely stifled. It could have been the fact that the past 32 hours she'd spent more time in the car than she was used to or maybe it was the added pressure put on her shoulders from watching Eric switch bodies and having her "toy" moved out of comfortable reach. For whatever reason, her designer suit was starting to itch on her skin and she found herself suffocating and burning up. For several moments, she tried adjusting her position, first leaning a little towards Benoit and then switching to lean more towards her door, folding and then refolding her legs - but every which way just seemed more uncomfortable than the last and she was growing frustrated by the restrictions of space.
The air in the car was growing tight in her lungs and her skin slightly flushed as her fingers idly began to undo the ebony buttons on her scarlet suit jacket. Opening it up seemed to help considerably, but it still wasn't enough and there was barely a pause as she began to take it off all the way. Cleanly ironed fabric slowly slipped from creamy, bare shoulders, the natural, healthy golden cast of her skin emphasized by the setting of the orange sun, and she gently set the article of clothing on the seat between her and Benoit. What was left after it's removal was a slimming black tank top with inch thick straps and a neckline that dipped low enough to show the top mound of each breast, her ample busom accented by the form-fitting top. Her dress pants were of the same shade of black and all together, her slender body and natural curves led the eye along in smooth, uninterrupted lines from top to bottom.
Even with the heavy and restricting suit removed, Stephanie still did not seem satisfied and started to roll her window all the way down. Leaning slightly towards it, she closed her eyes for a few moments and took in slow deep breaths, trying to clear her head and cool down. Hair that was normally pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of her neck, started to release small strands of flaxen silk to whip around her face wildly in the wind from the window. The fresh breeze helped, but the rest of her body suffered in the cocoon of the car and she shifted restlessly in place.
Turning towards Benoit, she did not look at him but grabbed the top of the seat separating them and reached across him with her other hand to roll down his window as well. No contact was made between them, but she was definitely invading his personal space and didn't seem to either care or realize it. The slender and graceful slope of her neck and collar bone was right at level with his face, hovering about 6 inches from him, and from the way she was turned towards him, he would get a perfect view down the middle of her shirt - if he happened to be looking, that is.
Once his window was down, she sat back in her seat once more, "It's hot in here..." her only explanation, murmured as if she couldn't be bothered to offer more. Still, she did not feel like it was enough, as if she were stuck inside a slow moving shell with the sun beating down on them. Reaching forward quickly, she smacked Jason lightly on the back of the head and demanded, "Roll down your window." Waiting for him to comply, she sat back again and laid her head against the headrest and closed her eyes briefly, letting the air flow across her between the two windows and filling the backseat. She considered asking Eric to roll his window down as well, but since the current air flow seemed to be working to ease the heat that had been filling her, she decided to let it go.
It wasn't really clear what was wrong with her and she didn't even know or consciously realize that she was acting strangely. It seemed perfectly reasonable that after hours of being stuck in a car with men, that her body would resist being shoved into the same situation again. Now she felt much more at ease however, having freed herself from the confining garment she wore almost all the time - except when she was sleeping - and it did not occur to her that the way she'd gone about it and the way she was dressed now, was somewhat inappropriate and a bit unprofessional.
Sitting upright again with her eyes reopened, she started to smooth the loose strands of hair back into place, but they'd already gotten free from her hair band and would need to be reinserted to become apart of the whole again. Slipping the band off of pale, golden strands that dipped just below her shoulders, she was starting to pull it all back again before she realized how good it felt to have it all out for once - her hair being tied back also a constant part of her attire. So, instead, using her fingers like a comb, she ran her hand through her hair and let it spill fully over her shoulders in a straight, golden waterfall and tossed the hair band onto her red jacket, instantly forgetting about it the moment it was gone from her grasp.
With the cooler wind blowing through the car now, there came a dryness and she only realized it when she attempted to rub her lips together and they seemed to scrape and drag at each other. Reaching into the pocket of her jacket, she pulled out a small hand mirror and her lipstick and began to reapply it - Jason had taken some of the color with him when she'd attempted to eat his face - and she found herself studying her own features for the first time in what felt like forever. Stephanie knew she was an attractive woman, but every time she looked at herself and caught that blank stare looking back at her, she cringed internally. Heaven knew she'd given up a lot for this case - willingly, one might add - but she'd been unhappy with more than just her looks for a long time even before she'd known who Gwen Stewart was. But the original self-loathing was always exaggerated every time she looked herself in the mirror now, and after watching Eric take over Jean's body, she felt a new surge of excitement to remove herself from her own skin.
Snapping the mirror shut, she looked to the front passenger seat with a piercing eye and began to scoot forward in her seat so she perched between the front seats. As a result, her waist and thigh slid up against Benoit's and instead of removing herself and giving him space, she allowed the physical contact to remain, preferring to ignore it. When she spoke, her usual emotionless facade was shaken loose to hint at emotions just under the surface. "Tell me about the body transfer process. Everything that you know about it," she said to Eric in a barely deferential tone. "How was the idea originally thought up? What was it like the first time you did it? What is it like to switch bodies? What does it feel like to be Jean?"
Anyone listening to her could almost detect an almost aroused tone to her voice, but it was so mixed with her usual deadpan, it could be shrugged away as something on the wind. It did not occur to her to consider Benoit's feelings about the subject of conversation, but even so, her knee lightly swayed against his in a surreptitious stroking gesture.
"I want to know about your personal experiences with the process, mostly," she added some of the emptiness returning to her voice.
***
Only when Alex mentioned him, did Gwen really remember Nathan. She'd been so fuzzy after they'd left the facility - and the circumstances around their leaving had been so strange - she'd forgotten her earlier concerns for the people inside the kid's head. The first thing she thought of was that poor woman lost inside and then that jerk David constantly torturing her and pushing her around. So, when Alex turned to her and told her that he planned to eventually help them out, a smile of admiration spread across her lips and she found herself sighing softly, content all over again to have him back and running the show. If it had still been Xander, not only would his concern for coffee have been the overriding detail occupying all of his attention, but he probably would have never looked back or ever thought of the kid again.Even before Alex knew there was something wrong, Gwen detected it and her heart fell through the floor as the man behind the counter set the cups onto the counter. Oh, Dean, why couldn't he just have done it right? Why did he have to screw this order up? But as she was cringing, waiting for Xander's response to the problem after Alex expertly identified the order had been messed, she did a double take and ended up meeting Alex's eyes when he gave her a completely flabbergasted look. Hiding a smile, Gwen began to eat her cinnamon twist - it was not fresh, having been baked sometime earlier in the day - but it still wasn't too hard and crusty not to enjoy and managed to melt in her mouth with every bite.
Out on the street again, she lightly clung to Alex's thoughts, moving with his consciousness as she stayed beside him physically - her tongue eagerly licking at the pastry when her own mouth filled with that hard coffee taste - and she looked at him guiltily as he considered the other part of the plan she'd stupidly fallen for. She didn't know how to tell him how convincing Stephanie had been, or how she'd felt like a throw away nobody compared to what the Agency was purportedly offering. And of course, it hadn't been him who her suspicions had fallen on - Xander had been in control at the time and she hadn't known if she'd ever get a chance to see Alex in the flesh again before they got to Charlton.
Xander of course picked up on this easily and although she was glad she didn't have to fumble awkwardly to explain to Alex that she did trust him, she found herself getting mad at the other man's tone. The question Alex asked went ignored as she swallowed the bite of cinnamon pastry in her mouth and turned on him with an angry look.
"Are you actually going to play that card?" she asked Xander, seeing through Alex to the man underneath, hiding and pouting in fatigue at the back of his mind. "Seriously? Oh, sure, you've saved my life a bunch of times, but you haven't done anything to inspire a feeling of safety when I'm around you. If I'm not being dragged this way and that by your crazy whims that constantly put us at risk, then I'm dragging you around and trying to figure out what I should be doing not to get us all fucking killed. Even when you were conscious, I felt like I was alone! If it hadn't been for Alex, I would have left! You treat me just like you treat Alex and everybody else - we're all afterthoughts when it comes to whatever you feel like doing. And don't try to deny that the thing you liked most about me was that I'm a convenient pair of eyes to add to your little quest."
She shook her head angrily and looked away but she wasn't done. "So, go ahead and pretend you're a misunderstood victim and we're all just ungrateful bastards. 'Cause there's just absolutely noooOOOoooo frigging reason why we'd all be walking on eggshells around you, after you've bent over backwards to make us feel like you're dependable or at least half-way SANE!"
When her eyes were turned back onto him, they were a bright sapphire shining in the light of the early evening descending upon them and she said, "And how about a little gratitude yourself!? You always assume you're so frigging important and act as if we should be fawning over you! Well, if anything that David jerk had to say was even remotely true, then YOU'RE the one who has to worry about fading away! So this whole walking into a trap at Charlton thing is us doing you a fucking favor!"
Pausing for breath, she felt the heat of anger still burning at her tongue and she quickly rushed ahead with it. "If there wasn't that sliver of doubt that you'd end up taking Alex with you when you decided to die, then I wouldn't think twice about letting whatever's gonna happen to you, happen."
That wasn't true and immediately after the words left her mouth, she was sorry she'd said them. She was extremely grateful for everything he'd done for them - for HER - but most of the things she'd said about how he'd made her feel was true. She was just an object to him, a nifty toy to help him out when he fell over and lost control in public. Even so, there was more to this current plan then just the necessity to get rid of the threat he presented to her friend, it was to help him too because he had been very instrumental to keeping not only her alive, but Alex as well - for years. But she couldn't bring herself to take any of it back or let him know that wasn't really why she was doing this. Instead, she turned her head away from him with a sigh and said, "Let's just go."
Looking further down the street, back the way they'd come, she reached out to the area to make sure they weren't being followed. No doubt they were, but at least not the way they'd left the facility. Probing the surrounding area and the bus station, she found a bus that would take them at least halfway there - reading the mind of the driver was particularly pleasant and simple, especially with the detailed map he provided - and she nodded in that direction. "Let's take a bus out of the city. And I'll be fine as far as traveling goes." Taking another bite of her pastry - feeling bitter in her mouth now and grown cold during her rant - she tugged lightly on Alex's sleeve and led the way, seemingly unbothered by her flash of anger.
Approaching the line of idling vehicles, the air became thick with exhaust fumes and she almost tossed away her meal for the taste it put in her mouth. As they boarded the appropriate bus, Gwen searched the rows for a seat and noticed immediately near the back, the woman from the coffee shop. Of course, she had to be on this bus. There were still some empty seats near the back and she led the way to a row not too far from the rebellious woman. There were three seats in the row that they chose, all nicely cushioned but definitely displaying the wear and tear of public transportation, and Gwen allowed Alex to take the inner most seat next to the window. Glancing back between the rows, Osono had not even noticed them and was busy listening to some heavy metal music with barely intelligible lyrics. Turning back to Alex, she finished her meal and settled in her seat, hoping that the stops the bus had to make wouldn't put too much of a delay on the trip itself. She just wanted all of this to be over as soon as possible.
Osono was busily bobbing her head to the beat blaring through her skull when her small dark eyes trailed to look out the window and she tensed. "Shit...!" she muttered under her breath and turned off the music, tugging her headphones off and tucking them away again. Frantically, she searched the bus for something and found it a few seats away, quickly rising from her seat and plopping down in the empty spot right next to Gwen. For a moment, she sat there and continued to look around warily, her mind working a mile a minute to come up with a plan - at the moment, opportunity was being a cold bitch.
"Hey," she finally said turning to nod at first Gwen and then Alex, not recognizing either of them from their brief encounter earlier. "I don't mean to impose upon you guys, but I'm gonna adopt you for a while." She lifted herself up a little in her seat and looked around to try and see the front of the bus and quickly plopped back down as if she'd caught sight of something she'd rather not have seen. Turning to give them a chagrined look, she said, "Someone's...following me..."
Gwen's eyes popped open at that and the first thing she thought of was Agents, but quickly discarded the thought. No, that was absurd. Not everybody was involved with the Agency like they were. And she abandoned the suspicion completely as a man approached them with a relaxed smile on his face, slipping into the empty row in front of them. Leaning over the backs of the chairs, he didn't even seem to notice the people sitting next to her as he said, "Ozzie! I finally caught up with you! Who're your friends?" The slender man was particularly short, with a handsome, youthful face, and short light brown hair, but other than seemingly kind of a dork, Gwen couldn't sense anything about him. Not even a direct age. It wasn't like he was an Agent, but rather more like Xander - she could sense things about his body and occasionally snippets of information made it through to her reach, but anything conclusive was still evading her grasp.
From the way that Osono reacted however, she was surprised at the degree of hate the woman had for him. Apparently he'd been following her for a long time... At his question, she turned to Gwen with a semi-pleading look in her eyes, so much so that she felt moved enough to help her out a little. "Uh, I'm Stacy and this is my boyfriend...Ben." That didn't sound too much like it had been made up on the spot, did it?
"Ah, cool, cool," he said nodding with that ingratiating grin again, finally turning to eyeball first her and then Alex. "I'm Quin. Nice to meet you both. Ozzie, do you mind...?" He made a gesture with his neck and patted the seat next to himself as if he wished for her to leave them and join him privately instead - it almost had the hint of a relationship to it and if it hadn't been for "Ozzie's" extreme loathing flaring up when he asked, Gwen might have assumed from his behavior alone that the two were involved.
"I'm with people, Rudy. Just go choke and die, alright?" Even with her completely acerbic tone, Quin or Rudy or whatever, seemed more amused by her response than a normal person should have been.
"I would, but see I'm kinda hesitant to turn my back on you. I almost lost you in that explosion at the gas station back in South Beach - I lost my Chevy, by the way, and I'm now suffering litigation for a discarded cigarette butt that wasn't mine..." even though he wasn't looking at them anymore, mostly focusing on the woman sitting next to her, Gwen got the feeling the guy was saying all of this for their benefit. He was surreptitiously trying to make Ozzie look dangerous. It proved to be unnecessary however... "I was scared that you might have gotten hurt in all of that."
"Oh? Well, personally, I'm upset that you weren't," was her response, thrown back flippantly.
"Ha! Oh, you!" he said as if she were joking - but she wasn't. Turning to Gwen and Alex he said, "Don't you just love that about her? So feisty! Mm!" His light voice uttering drooling praise was cut short as a harsh buzzing hum started and he jerked upright slightly with a small surprised look. Even before he said anything, Gwen could feel the vibration in his pocket.
"Oop! ♫ Someone is texting me! ♪" he said in an almost flamboyant, sing-song tone of voice. Turning back to Osono, he held up a finger as he dug into his pocket with the other hand. "Just a second, now you stay put! Don't go getting lost!"
"I recommend that you do..." she murmured as he disappeared on the other side of the barrier of seats. A hand drifted to her forehead and she rubbed her temples in a soothing manner before whispering in their direction, "Do either of you have any aspirin on you? Or possibly a gun to put me out of my misery?" The implication was for her to shoot herself in the head, but from probing into the other woman's mind, she realized it was much more likely for Osono to use the weapon on the man who'd followed her onto the bus.
Glancing at Alex, Gwen gave him a small questioning look and pulsed,
What do you think?
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Wed Sep 15, 2010 12:19 am
What did he think? ... That was a good question. Alex didn’t want to get involved in anything beyond what they were already dealing with, but when that girl – psycho-coffee fanatic number two – sat down and practically demanded they talk to her, he winced, kept his mouth shut, and hoped that’d be enough to get rid of her. No dice. She was still turned around for a chat, asking for help in a way he couldn’t decide was supposed to be sarcastic, and the only response he could give was slinking farther into his chair. It hurt doing that, by the way. Not only did his skull hurt, but the rest of his back hurt, too. He must’ve been slammed around more than Gwen said, or else slammed through something a hundred different times. He was surprised he could walk. His body felt numb and light, much more than it should’ve. Maybe it was a delayed reaction to the pain. Once more, he’d be in for some fun if the full force hit him, but it wasn’t looming over him like last time.
But anyway. Them. He didn’t have to be a mind-reader to know something wasn’t right. If Gwen was questioning these people... He tensed. The idea of anyone being Agents always made him freeze, but he settled down. It was fine. She would’ve told him if they were after them. If they were, that... emptiness she felt when she was around the Agent woman would’ve been the first thing she picked up on, and if they weren’t after her, then they wouldn’t have been prepared enough to fend her off and she could’ve easily jumped in and found out who these two were. He figured, anyway. He knew less about Gwen’s powers than she did, and she’d only had them for two days. Three soon, now that the sun was getting low. Hard to imagine they’d done so much in such a tiny amount of time. That was his life in a nutshell. The sooner this was behind him...
Okay. How did he do this? Did he think real hard or just – ah, forget it. He’d whisper. He was better at that than any mental back-and-forth. What he did with Xander barely counted at all.
“I think we’re gonna be stuck with them for a while,” he said, very low in his throat. He could barely hear what he’d murmured, let alone this stranger. That meant he was banking on Gwen picking up his words as he ran them through his mind. It was the best he could do. “Unless you want to try a different bus.”
Ha, ha! Yeah, right. There was even less a chance of that than anything else he could think of. No, they’d have to grin and bear this, or least try to politely extract themselves from the situation. He wasn’t sure it’d work. He doubted it would. If this girl had been bold enough to stomp over to them before, she’d probably follow them around no matter what they said. And that other guy, the one following her, if he could believe she was likeable enough for anyone to want to be in her space, didn’t seem to have any problem with forced socialization either. Great. How long until they were at their stop? Any chance he could get a clock to watch the seconds die around him?
“Uh... No. Sorry. All out.” Except for the near-full bottle in his bag. “And... that’s a ‘no’ for the gun thing, too.”
He let out a breath, trying to imply that that was all the words he had for her, then casually let his eyes wander around the rest of the bus. There wasn’t a lot to see – the bus was pretty typically ‘bus-like’ – so it didn’t take long to examine his surroundings. When he was done and noticed upsettingly that the girl was still here and that her guy friend hadn’t stopped chatting on the phone, he gave a lifeless and tight-lipped smile before settling deeper – impossibly, he’d found more room to slink into – into his seat. He hunched his shoulders and hung his head. If she was going to talk, he could at least bore her to death with how useless he was at conversation. Hell – Alex wouldn’t talk to Alex right now. He looked and felt like he was going to fall over. Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. It might’ve seemed like an awkward position, but this was kind of comfy. They’d be left alone if they were asleep, right? So... perfect!
“I’ll just – uh... take a nap,” he muttered. “Had a long day. Good luck with him and everything.”
And good riddance.
... Crap. Comfy or not, that damn coffee –
Alright. He’d close his eyes. It amounted to the same thing, didn’t it? In the meantime, until the too-strong taste wore out of his mouth, he’d do the thing Xander was incapable of and come up with a strategy for what they were facing.
The big guy was dead but the invisible one had his goggles back. Alex had seen very little of what they could do, but there’d been so much stuff running across the screen that their ability seemed almost limitless. Then again, there’d been that ‘reset’ thing. That should take the bite out of that guy, but really, they’d never been the problem. It was the invisible-but-not-exactly-invisible trick up the Agent’s sleeve. Twice, he’d been caught off-guard by it, and Gwen had had her turn, too. She’d said he’d shut himself off to her? So what was the defence against it? Whatever magic Xander kept casting whenever they met, he wasn’t sharing. ... And he’d been quiet for a while, Alex realized.
“Xander?”
....
“... Xander?”
... Uh...
“Are you okay in there?”
... Aaaaand more silence. He didn’t have the patience to find the secret behind it now. Xander was probably sulking and there were bigger things to worry about.
Okay. The invisible Agent was a problem. Creepy ‘can’t read my thoughts’ lady was a big one, too. She didn’t have to wait for Gwen to peek inside to attack. He remembered what had happened in the hotel and it wasn’t so hard to put the picture together or even guess that the woman could do things that would’ve had the Agency trailing her if she hadn’t been a part of them. But hey, maybe that was exactly what had happened. Nathan seemed to be caught in some messed up orgy of people picked and stolen. That maze of stairs Gwen had told him about? That could’ve been a million different people, dead or alive, struggling for control over the last thing they could call real. .... Or the woman was just really, really fucked in the head. One of those. Maybe both?
And then the Frenchman. That was an issue that refused to be resolved. How many times had he corned him and Xander? How long had he had them on the run? Through all the years and all the faceless goons, that one determined Agent had stood against them. It wasn’t like he ran off at first glance. Half the time, whoever hadn’t been killed had to the drag the Frenchman away, because he wanted to see what else Alex’s powers could do and Xander was more than happy to oblige. So... big guy dead? It helped a little. Aside from the hope that grieving – which was a hope in and of itself – would throw him a little off his game, nothing had changed. Alex wouldn’t be surprised if the man popped up with a new army in his pocket to tear the bus apart.
This was hopeless. Their best chance was flying on the wings of pure luck: if they got in, if they found Xander’s body, if they found the transfer machine, if they figured out how to use it, if they could fend off all the security that’d been roaming around – and it’d be Gwen by herself because Nathan was long gone – then they’d be okay, barring some horrible accident that cut off the transfer halfway and screwed over everyone. But it was the chance he had to take. Whatever was in the Agency building at Charlton, it was the only thing he could say would fix his life. Gwen, though... He didn’t want to say it – much less think it, but too late because it was in his head now and she probably could hear him – but she’d be safer off on the outside. He refused to put it into spoken words, though. As selfish as he thought it’d be to keep dragging her down the path of no return, could he honestly say she’d feel better if he suddenly left her out now? ... Well... maybe... but that was her decision. From what he could see, she wanted to help him. Back at Roasters – so long ago and hardly relevant anymore – she’d been perfectly capable of walking away. He trusted her to back out if this became too much for her.
He would’ve liked to have been able to say ‘no’, except for a certain someone axing that option like a lumberjack on meth.
“Xander?”
...
This was going to be a long bus ride.
He felt more grounded than he’d ever been since this mess had started. Jason had left the goggles around his neck, aware that they were useless, but still feeling a warmth at the tips of his fingers that let him know he was going to be okay. Relatively speaking, of course. There were six other things he had to worry about and they’d destroyed his chance at focusing on them by making him drive. He knew he was supposed to. It wasn’t as if one of the leads or the A-1 would do it, but he had more on his plate than anyone else. Whatever was going on in Eric’s head was his personal secret, but Jason was well aware that aside from ‘obtain target, kill target, take target’s body’, there wasn’t a lot on everyone else’s agendas, no matter what they tried to tell him.
His hands gripped the steering wheel as if trying to wake up. There was strength in them again. That was a good sign, and he was glad the world had stopped spinning in time for him to do this. He couldn’t imagine having to ask if someone else could get them there because he was dizzy, let alone what they’d do if he crashed. He’d successfully avoiding swerving the car into a tree when his lead asked him to open his window – which he did, but now the evening’s icy air was hitting him in the face – and he was making fairly good time. Depending on how long they decided to stop for, and he was praying they at least slept like normal human beings, they’d make it to Charlton well within the two day travel.
“Miss Agent, you will remove your leg from my personal space before I snap it off.”
Eyes forward, eyes forward, Jason kept his focus on the road –
“Is there a party back there?” Eric sounded like he’d been about to answer Jason’s lead but had changed his mind at Benoit’s out-of-nowhere statement. “Why am I never invited to these things?”
“Because you kill everyone. Nobody likes you.”
“Fair enough. Clearly one of us is more popular,” Eric said, grinning at the rear-view mirror. “Should I leave you two alone or...?” Quick pause, followed by the feeling of a murderous glare that the man must’ve learned from Alexander. Eric giggled at that as well. “Fine, fine. Let’s stay professional, kids. Stephanie can’t be distracted if she’s gonna hear the answer to this. It’s a lot to take in, you know.”
“I swear to God...”
“By which I mean ‘to understand and absorb’,” Eric cut in. “Geez, Benny. I only say half the things I do because you point them out. I’m not always trying to imply something.” And then there was another pause, as if he was about to imply something immediately after that. “I’m serious! I’m a good guy!”
“Whatever you want to say, say it,” Frenchie spat. “Having you here is bad enough without suffering your endless voice.”
The A-1 had a great laugh over that. In between his mighty breaths, which shook the car that had only just managed to hold the Flunky when he’d been sitting still, he got out a delighted, “You know I love this guy, ‘cause he’s breathing. Anyone else and I would’ve had a new body to float into. Not exactly a trade-up, but I think I’d make my point after I throw you into a series of increasingly embarrassing situations to shatter the reputation you’ve spent some years building and render a funeral or even a record of your name useless because no one would ultimately care to associate you with any part of their memory except for the ‘what a dickweed’ part. No joke, I have done that before. Jason!”
Eyes on the road. Keep focused but polite.
“Yes, sir?”
“Ever hear of ‘Ian Kenneth’? Small administrations guy, worked some backwoods office in Alaska.”
“... No.” Wait. Wait a minute. Yes, he did! “Or – was he the one who –”
“Ran around the corner because he was ‘late for a meeting’ and got my searingly hot chocolate all over my arm and was later found puking on his regional director’s dog?”
... Uh... Yeah. That guy.
“That was charming,” Benoit muttered disapprovingly.
Jason took his eyes away from the straight, empty line he was driving in to gape at the A-1 beside him. Both impressed and thoroughly grossed out, he loudly asked, “That was you?”
Eric lifted his fists in the air and knocked them against the roof of the car in triumph.
“I am a magnificent god of wrath! All shall hear my name and tremble!” And as an aside, “But really, I don’t take kindly to people ruining whatever corpse I find for the week. Holding off decomposition is one thing. Healing wounds? Like a paper cut? Out of my league, unfortunately, so you can imagine what the boiling point of chocolate decided to do to my skin.” He rolled his eyes at what must’ve been Benoit’s expression. “Ah, it’s fine. The guy had cancer. I gave him about a month before he was snuffed out anyway, so at least he goes down in history as ‘that guy who puked on that dog’ instead of Mr. Nameless Number Zillion and Four. Cool, huh?”
That was some serious dedication to ruin someone, to put it lightly, and that poor dog had only been the first in a string of twenty total bursts of insanity.
“I gotta say...” Jason couldn’t finish that with anything better than a slow shake of his head and a stunned look of amusement. It was refreshing to find an Agent who wasn’t ashamed of being crazy, but it was the tiniest bit unnerving to be trapped in a moving metal box with him.
“Yeah? Yeah? I know – it’s hilarious, and it worked out for everybody,” Eric said. “His family got a good windfall out of the insurance, the Agency had a fun time watching it, that church got a brand-new alter, and that baby at the baptism – well! He’s gonna have some lovely pictures to look back on one of these days. Who says religion can’t be entertaining?” Another eye roll. “Alright, well, obviously Benny does. Fine – back to the boring transfer stuff, if that’s what you’re gagging for.”
Whatever enthusiasm Eric was pretending not to have leaped up the minute he began talking about it. His eyes brightened behind his glasses and his entire body beamed with exhilaration.
“The transfer process, in two words, is fucking miraculous. Pardon my French and all that.” Benoit grunted. “I was terrified – not gonna lie to you – that I was going to end up like every other victim who stumbled into the unfinished technology. I walked in expecting a death sentence. What I got was... a death sentence. Technically. The whole ‘can only live in dead bodies’ thing, it’s a bit of a pain. I’ll get to that in a minute, but – first. Stephanie. You can’t believe your good luck. Going for a mark knowing full well that the only risk you’ll be taking is ‘Gwen might get away’ or ‘her powers might be too much for me to control’? I would’ve been nuts to have that! There’s not a reason in the world for you to panic. Every single bug’s been worked out, every process tested and retested, and the whole system guarded against the slightest hint of sabotage... You’re living in a golden age, my dear. You should be beyond pleased with what you have to work with.
“As for the transfer itself, I’ll say the basics won’t have changed. You’re gonna feel numb, then you’re gonna feel dizzy, then you’re gonna feel like your mind’s getting ripped out of its skull and sucked through a tube. That part’s not fun and not a lot of Agents can handle it. I was out for half a year before I woke up. Lucky me, because it didn’t take long to go stir-crazy in there.” He shrugged. “Not everyone makes it. The good news is, if you don’t take to your target and get lost in there forever, we can always pull you back out and put someone else inside. We put on a new cap of four months for you to get your bearings and take over, largely because there’s a half-dozen others ready to take your place. No more of this two year, three year, or – one time – four year wait.”
Jason immensely relieved that he wasn’t going through any of that. He’d stick to his withdrawal in terms of ‘worst thing to ever happen’.
“The idea to do this wasn’t extremely novel. Some people had powers, other people had money, and there’re only so many things that’ll happen when you get that kind of mix. The Agency wants me to ramble on about how this is to protect the general public, first by removing untrained civilians from sources of so much destruction and, second, by developing an army of super-soldiers to police the world and blah-blah-blah. I’m not one for ideals or morals or whatever you want to call it. I took this job because it looked fantastic on my CV, and I accepted this opportunity because I love being stronger than everyone. People like Benoit frown upon that school of thought, and anyone who’s getting giddy over killing their way to superhero-dom has a few ‘me’ issues to work out, but as I always say, if you can’t fix it, embrace it, and I embrace the hell out of everything. That project of mine, precious Nathan, is the door to a new era. Leave it to me to come up with the next best way to stomp the competition to dust.”
He almost expected Benoit to say something about that. When the man didn’t, Jason finally glanced at them in the mirror. Benoit had a fairly accepting expression on. While he might’ve hated Eric’s motivation – and Eric himself – it didn’t stop him from praising the work underway. The silence was more of an agreement than anything, but that dropped off Frenchie’s face when he realized the A-1 hadn’t finished. It was back to something that seemed like a headache, which the man tried to cure by immediately going back to smoking.
“I’ve only needed to use the Agency’s transfer method once. My target, my first and only ‘official’ case, had quite the trick. I think it’s obvious what that was, but in case you can’t puzzle it out, it’s the power to jump from corpse to corpse. How’d he find out he had it? Who knows? What kind of kid walks around shooting their mind at dead guys? It’s sick, I say. Never liked him, Edwin. But that’s the old way of doing things. Up until maybe... the seventeenth? Sure – up until the seventeenth success, those to be transferred didn’t obsess about whoever they were taking over. We couldn’t care less. I doubt I’d recognize a picture of my target, and that goes for anyone else who made it. Our focus was on the powers. It was all we wanted. If we started putting faces to what we were killing...”
“That’s not how it works,” Jason said. He immediately chomped on his tongue, only to venture out an apologetic, “I mean, that’s not what I’ve witnessed. My lead seems... You can ask her.”
“Don’t have to. I know what’s going on. We’ve had about twenty years since my time in the chair,” Eric told them. “After the ten thousandth Agent died and got stuffed into a jar beside their old body, the Agency encouraged more... I wouldn’t say worship, but that’s exactly what it is. Now they want you to breathe the air your target breathes, drink the water your target drinks, feel the world in whatever way your target feels so it lessens the shock of being inside someone else. Works like a charm. Suddenly that panic of ‘I’m no longer the person I was born’ fades away because you’re happy to be where you are in a way the powers alone couldn’t entice you. Shortened the average to a few weeks, though the odd one’ll still take those capped months. How many are there now? A hundred? Two hundred? All active Agents fully in tune with their new form.”
“Your project is listed as number 35,” Jason said.
“So? It’s not like he’s the most recent capture. We’ve had him for a while. In fact, I picked him because he’d been around for so long. It’s the rest of the hardy crew that’s minty fresh.”
“What hardy crew?”
Eric smiled.
“A-1 only, Jay-jay. The perks of the promoted.” He leaned back in his seat. “Now Stephanie, I think I’ve answered all your questions, besides the last one because I have no strong feelings one way or another – it’s all about the powers and he’s got none – so I hope you’d be willing to return the favour and answer one of mine: that target of yours, the fair lady Gwen, run off with Benny’s two-minded Lancelot... I know you said she was psychically gifted but – uh... how strong a force are we talking about? The strength behind her, is it ‘burn a country with her brain’ or more of a ‘cheat on exams’ sort of thing? I have to know what I’m up against.”
“She poses no significant threat, other than hearing our plans prematurely,” Frenchie said, annoyed that Eric would think differently. “She is as easy to influence as a child. Alexander should be our concern.”
“Awwwwww! It’s like watching a mommy bear maul a hunter too close to her cub,” Eric cooed. “I like to know every side of my environment, Benoit, and you’re a little biased on the ‘who’s more dangerous’ front. Besides, I know how to handle him. Try to remember I’m the guy who won over Xander in seconds. Let’s the trust the professionals, shall we?” The man’s attention switched back to Jason’s lead so distinctly, Jason almost heard a click come off of it. “If you don’t mind sharing, what was it that brought you to this girl? Random assignment or personal preference? Almost everyone has a different answer, and it’s sort of my hobby to keep track of them.”
But anyway. Them. He didn’t have to be a mind-reader to know something wasn’t right. If Gwen was questioning these people... He tensed. The idea of anyone being Agents always made him freeze, but he settled down. It was fine. She would’ve told him if they were after them. If they were, that... emptiness she felt when she was around the Agent woman would’ve been the first thing she picked up on, and if they weren’t after her, then they wouldn’t have been prepared enough to fend her off and she could’ve easily jumped in and found out who these two were. He figured, anyway. He knew less about Gwen’s powers than she did, and she’d only had them for two days. Three soon, now that the sun was getting low. Hard to imagine they’d done so much in such a tiny amount of time. That was his life in a nutshell. The sooner this was behind him...
Okay. How did he do this? Did he think real hard or just – ah, forget it. He’d whisper. He was better at that than any mental back-and-forth. What he did with Xander barely counted at all.
“I think we’re gonna be stuck with them for a while,” he said, very low in his throat. He could barely hear what he’d murmured, let alone this stranger. That meant he was banking on Gwen picking up his words as he ran them through his mind. It was the best he could do. “Unless you want to try a different bus.”
Ha, ha! Yeah, right. There was even less a chance of that than anything else he could think of. No, they’d have to grin and bear this, or least try to politely extract themselves from the situation. He wasn’t sure it’d work. He doubted it would. If this girl had been bold enough to stomp over to them before, she’d probably follow them around no matter what they said. And that other guy, the one following her, if he could believe she was likeable enough for anyone to want to be in her space, didn’t seem to have any problem with forced socialization either. Great. How long until they were at their stop? Any chance he could get a clock to watch the seconds die around him?
“Uh... No. Sorry. All out.” Except for the near-full bottle in his bag. “And... that’s a ‘no’ for the gun thing, too.”
He let out a breath, trying to imply that that was all the words he had for her, then casually let his eyes wander around the rest of the bus. There wasn’t a lot to see – the bus was pretty typically ‘bus-like’ – so it didn’t take long to examine his surroundings. When he was done and noticed upsettingly that the girl was still here and that her guy friend hadn’t stopped chatting on the phone, he gave a lifeless and tight-lipped smile before settling deeper – impossibly, he’d found more room to slink into – into his seat. He hunched his shoulders and hung his head. If she was going to talk, he could at least bore her to death with how useless he was at conversation. Hell – Alex wouldn’t talk to Alex right now. He looked and felt like he was going to fall over. Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. It might’ve seemed like an awkward position, but this was kind of comfy. They’d be left alone if they were asleep, right? So... perfect!
“I’ll just – uh... take a nap,” he muttered. “Had a long day. Good luck with him and everything.”
And good riddance.
... Crap. Comfy or not, that damn coffee –
Alright. He’d close his eyes. It amounted to the same thing, didn’t it? In the meantime, until the too-strong taste wore out of his mouth, he’d do the thing Xander was incapable of and come up with a strategy for what they were facing.
The big guy was dead but the invisible one had his goggles back. Alex had seen very little of what they could do, but there’d been so much stuff running across the screen that their ability seemed almost limitless. Then again, there’d been that ‘reset’ thing. That should take the bite out of that guy, but really, they’d never been the problem. It was the invisible-but-not-exactly-invisible trick up the Agent’s sleeve. Twice, he’d been caught off-guard by it, and Gwen had had her turn, too. She’d said he’d shut himself off to her? So what was the defence against it? Whatever magic Xander kept casting whenever they met, he wasn’t sharing. ... And he’d been quiet for a while, Alex realized.
“Xander?”
....
“... Xander?”
... Uh...
“Are you okay in there?”
... Aaaaand more silence. He didn’t have the patience to find the secret behind it now. Xander was probably sulking and there were bigger things to worry about.
Okay. The invisible Agent was a problem. Creepy ‘can’t read my thoughts’ lady was a big one, too. She didn’t have to wait for Gwen to peek inside to attack. He remembered what had happened in the hotel and it wasn’t so hard to put the picture together or even guess that the woman could do things that would’ve had the Agency trailing her if she hadn’t been a part of them. But hey, maybe that was exactly what had happened. Nathan seemed to be caught in some messed up orgy of people picked and stolen. That maze of stairs Gwen had told him about? That could’ve been a million different people, dead or alive, struggling for control over the last thing they could call real. .... Or the woman was just really, really fucked in the head. One of those. Maybe both?
And then the Frenchman. That was an issue that refused to be resolved. How many times had he corned him and Xander? How long had he had them on the run? Through all the years and all the faceless goons, that one determined Agent had stood against them. It wasn’t like he ran off at first glance. Half the time, whoever hadn’t been killed had to the drag the Frenchman away, because he wanted to see what else Alex’s powers could do and Xander was more than happy to oblige. So... big guy dead? It helped a little. Aside from the hope that grieving – which was a hope in and of itself – would throw him a little off his game, nothing had changed. Alex wouldn’t be surprised if the man popped up with a new army in his pocket to tear the bus apart.
This was hopeless. Their best chance was flying on the wings of pure luck: if they got in, if they found Xander’s body, if they found the transfer machine, if they figured out how to use it, if they could fend off all the security that’d been roaming around – and it’d be Gwen by herself because Nathan was long gone – then they’d be okay, barring some horrible accident that cut off the transfer halfway and screwed over everyone. But it was the chance he had to take. Whatever was in the Agency building at Charlton, it was the only thing he could say would fix his life. Gwen, though... He didn’t want to say it – much less think it, but too late because it was in his head now and she probably could hear him – but she’d be safer off on the outside. He refused to put it into spoken words, though. As selfish as he thought it’d be to keep dragging her down the path of no return, could he honestly say she’d feel better if he suddenly left her out now? ... Well... maybe... but that was her decision. From what he could see, she wanted to help him. Back at Roasters – so long ago and hardly relevant anymore – she’d been perfectly capable of walking away. He trusted her to back out if this became too much for her.
He would’ve liked to have been able to say ‘no’, except for a certain someone axing that option like a lumberjack on meth.
“Xander?”
...
This was going to be a long bus ride.
* * *
He felt more grounded than he’d ever been since this mess had started. Jason had left the goggles around his neck, aware that they were useless, but still feeling a warmth at the tips of his fingers that let him know he was going to be okay. Relatively speaking, of course. There were six other things he had to worry about and they’d destroyed his chance at focusing on them by making him drive. He knew he was supposed to. It wasn’t as if one of the leads or the A-1 would do it, but he had more on his plate than anyone else. Whatever was going on in Eric’s head was his personal secret, but Jason was well aware that aside from ‘obtain target, kill target, take target’s body’, there wasn’t a lot on everyone else’s agendas, no matter what they tried to tell him.
His hands gripped the steering wheel as if trying to wake up. There was strength in them again. That was a good sign, and he was glad the world had stopped spinning in time for him to do this. He couldn’t imagine having to ask if someone else could get them there because he was dizzy, let alone what they’d do if he crashed. He’d successfully avoiding swerving the car into a tree when his lead asked him to open his window – which he did, but now the evening’s icy air was hitting him in the face – and he was making fairly good time. Depending on how long they decided to stop for, and he was praying they at least slept like normal human beings, they’d make it to Charlton well within the two day travel.
“Miss Agent, you will remove your leg from my personal space before I snap it off.”
Eyes forward, eyes forward, Jason kept his focus on the road –
“Is there a party back there?” Eric sounded like he’d been about to answer Jason’s lead but had changed his mind at Benoit’s out-of-nowhere statement. “Why am I never invited to these things?”
“Because you kill everyone. Nobody likes you.”
“Fair enough. Clearly one of us is more popular,” Eric said, grinning at the rear-view mirror. “Should I leave you two alone or...?” Quick pause, followed by the feeling of a murderous glare that the man must’ve learned from Alexander. Eric giggled at that as well. “Fine, fine. Let’s stay professional, kids. Stephanie can’t be distracted if she’s gonna hear the answer to this. It’s a lot to take in, you know.”
“I swear to God...”
“By which I mean ‘to understand and absorb’,” Eric cut in. “Geez, Benny. I only say half the things I do because you point them out. I’m not always trying to imply something.” And then there was another pause, as if he was about to imply something immediately after that. “I’m serious! I’m a good guy!”
“Whatever you want to say, say it,” Frenchie spat. “Having you here is bad enough without suffering your endless voice.”
The A-1 had a great laugh over that. In between his mighty breaths, which shook the car that had only just managed to hold the Flunky when he’d been sitting still, he got out a delighted, “You know I love this guy, ‘cause he’s breathing. Anyone else and I would’ve had a new body to float into. Not exactly a trade-up, but I think I’d make my point after I throw you into a series of increasingly embarrassing situations to shatter the reputation you’ve spent some years building and render a funeral or even a record of your name useless because no one would ultimately care to associate you with any part of their memory except for the ‘what a dickweed’ part. No joke, I have done that before. Jason!”
Eyes on the road. Keep focused but polite.
“Yes, sir?”
“Ever hear of ‘Ian Kenneth’? Small administrations guy, worked some backwoods office in Alaska.”
“... No.” Wait. Wait a minute. Yes, he did! “Or – was he the one who –”
“Ran around the corner because he was ‘late for a meeting’ and got my searingly hot chocolate all over my arm and was later found puking on his regional director’s dog?”
... Uh... Yeah. That guy.
“That was charming,” Benoit muttered disapprovingly.
Jason took his eyes away from the straight, empty line he was driving in to gape at the A-1 beside him. Both impressed and thoroughly grossed out, he loudly asked, “That was you?”
Eric lifted his fists in the air and knocked them against the roof of the car in triumph.
“I am a magnificent god of wrath! All shall hear my name and tremble!” And as an aside, “But really, I don’t take kindly to people ruining whatever corpse I find for the week. Holding off decomposition is one thing. Healing wounds? Like a paper cut? Out of my league, unfortunately, so you can imagine what the boiling point of chocolate decided to do to my skin.” He rolled his eyes at what must’ve been Benoit’s expression. “Ah, it’s fine. The guy had cancer. I gave him about a month before he was snuffed out anyway, so at least he goes down in history as ‘that guy who puked on that dog’ instead of Mr. Nameless Number Zillion and Four. Cool, huh?”
That was some serious dedication to ruin someone, to put it lightly, and that poor dog had only been the first in a string of twenty total bursts of insanity.
“I gotta say...” Jason couldn’t finish that with anything better than a slow shake of his head and a stunned look of amusement. It was refreshing to find an Agent who wasn’t ashamed of being crazy, but it was the tiniest bit unnerving to be trapped in a moving metal box with him.
“Yeah? Yeah? I know – it’s hilarious, and it worked out for everybody,” Eric said. “His family got a good windfall out of the insurance, the Agency had a fun time watching it, that church got a brand-new alter, and that baby at the baptism – well! He’s gonna have some lovely pictures to look back on one of these days. Who says religion can’t be entertaining?” Another eye roll. “Alright, well, obviously Benny does. Fine – back to the boring transfer stuff, if that’s what you’re gagging for.”
Whatever enthusiasm Eric was pretending not to have leaped up the minute he began talking about it. His eyes brightened behind his glasses and his entire body beamed with exhilaration.
“The transfer process, in two words, is fucking miraculous. Pardon my French and all that.” Benoit grunted. “I was terrified – not gonna lie to you – that I was going to end up like every other victim who stumbled into the unfinished technology. I walked in expecting a death sentence. What I got was... a death sentence. Technically. The whole ‘can only live in dead bodies’ thing, it’s a bit of a pain. I’ll get to that in a minute, but – first. Stephanie. You can’t believe your good luck. Going for a mark knowing full well that the only risk you’ll be taking is ‘Gwen might get away’ or ‘her powers might be too much for me to control’? I would’ve been nuts to have that! There’s not a reason in the world for you to panic. Every single bug’s been worked out, every process tested and retested, and the whole system guarded against the slightest hint of sabotage... You’re living in a golden age, my dear. You should be beyond pleased with what you have to work with.
“As for the transfer itself, I’ll say the basics won’t have changed. You’re gonna feel numb, then you’re gonna feel dizzy, then you’re gonna feel like your mind’s getting ripped out of its skull and sucked through a tube. That part’s not fun and not a lot of Agents can handle it. I was out for half a year before I woke up. Lucky me, because it didn’t take long to go stir-crazy in there.” He shrugged. “Not everyone makes it. The good news is, if you don’t take to your target and get lost in there forever, we can always pull you back out and put someone else inside. We put on a new cap of four months for you to get your bearings and take over, largely because there’s a half-dozen others ready to take your place. No more of this two year, three year, or – one time – four year wait.”
Jason immensely relieved that he wasn’t going through any of that. He’d stick to his withdrawal in terms of ‘worst thing to ever happen’.
“The idea to do this wasn’t extremely novel. Some people had powers, other people had money, and there’re only so many things that’ll happen when you get that kind of mix. The Agency wants me to ramble on about how this is to protect the general public, first by removing untrained civilians from sources of so much destruction and, second, by developing an army of super-soldiers to police the world and blah-blah-blah. I’m not one for ideals or morals or whatever you want to call it. I took this job because it looked fantastic on my CV, and I accepted this opportunity because I love being stronger than everyone. People like Benoit frown upon that school of thought, and anyone who’s getting giddy over killing their way to superhero-dom has a few ‘me’ issues to work out, but as I always say, if you can’t fix it, embrace it, and I embrace the hell out of everything. That project of mine, precious Nathan, is the door to a new era. Leave it to me to come up with the next best way to stomp the competition to dust.”
He almost expected Benoit to say something about that. When the man didn’t, Jason finally glanced at them in the mirror. Benoit had a fairly accepting expression on. While he might’ve hated Eric’s motivation – and Eric himself – it didn’t stop him from praising the work underway. The silence was more of an agreement than anything, but that dropped off Frenchie’s face when he realized the A-1 hadn’t finished. It was back to something that seemed like a headache, which the man tried to cure by immediately going back to smoking.
“I’ve only needed to use the Agency’s transfer method once. My target, my first and only ‘official’ case, had quite the trick. I think it’s obvious what that was, but in case you can’t puzzle it out, it’s the power to jump from corpse to corpse. How’d he find out he had it? Who knows? What kind of kid walks around shooting their mind at dead guys? It’s sick, I say. Never liked him, Edwin. But that’s the old way of doing things. Up until maybe... the seventeenth? Sure – up until the seventeenth success, those to be transferred didn’t obsess about whoever they were taking over. We couldn’t care less. I doubt I’d recognize a picture of my target, and that goes for anyone else who made it. Our focus was on the powers. It was all we wanted. If we started putting faces to what we were killing...”
“That’s not how it works,” Jason said. He immediately chomped on his tongue, only to venture out an apologetic, “I mean, that’s not what I’ve witnessed. My lead seems... You can ask her.”
“Don’t have to. I know what’s going on. We’ve had about twenty years since my time in the chair,” Eric told them. “After the ten thousandth Agent died and got stuffed into a jar beside their old body, the Agency encouraged more... I wouldn’t say worship, but that’s exactly what it is. Now they want you to breathe the air your target breathes, drink the water your target drinks, feel the world in whatever way your target feels so it lessens the shock of being inside someone else. Works like a charm. Suddenly that panic of ‘I’m no longer the person I was born’ fades away because you’re happy to be where you are in a way the powers alone couldn’t entice you. Shortened the average to a few weeks, though the odd one’ll still take those capped months. How many are there now? A hundred? Two hundred? All active Agents fully in tune with their new form.”
“Your project is listed as number 35,” Jason said.
“So? It’s not like he’s the most recent capture. We’ve had him for a while. In fact, I picked him because he’d been around for so long. It’s the rest of the hardy crew that’s minty fresh.”
“What hardy crew?”
Eric smiled.
“A-1 only, Jay-jay. The perks of the promoted.” He leaned back in his seat. “Now Stephanie, I think I’ve answered all your questions, besides the last one because I have no strong feelings one way or another – it’s all about the powers and he’s got none – so I hope you’d be willing to return the favour and answer one of mine: that target of yours, the fair lady Gwen, run off with Benny’s two-minded Lancelot... I know you said she was psychically gifted but – uh... how strong a force are we talking about? The strength behind her, is it ‘burn a country with her brain’ or more of a ‘cheat on exams’ sort of thing? I have to know what I’m up against.”
“She poses no significant threat, other than hearing our plans prematurely,” Frenchie said, annoyed that Eric would think differently. “She is as easy to influence as a child. Alexander should be our concern.”
“Awwwwww! It’s like watching a mommy bear maul a hunter too close to her cub,” Eric cooed. “I like to know every side of my environment, Benoit, and you’re a little biased on the ‘who’s more dangerous’ front. Besides, I know how to handle him. Try to remember I’m the guy who won over Xander in seconds. Let’s the trust the professionals, shall we?” The man’s attention switched back to Jason’s lead so distinctly, Jason almost heard a click come off of it. “If you don’t mind sharing, what was it that brought you to this girl? Random assignment or personal preference? Almost everyone has a different answer, and it’s sort of my hobby to keep track of them.”
Last edited by Tartra on Sat Jun 18, 2011 2:04 pm; edited 2 times in total
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Wed Sep 15, 2010 1:26 pm
Stephanie felt herself instantly tense when Benoit addressed her, not only because of his tone but also with what he said. What the--? What the fuck was that jerk-off talking about? She wasn't anywhere near the big crybaby and his bubble of personal... Looking down at her leg, she blinked blankly for a moment or two, staring at the nonexistent space between them as they sat knee-to-knee. Not only that but before she'd cast her eyes downward, she could have sworn she'd also been moving her leg...against his...
There was an almost perceptible frown on her face as she kept her eyes from meeting his and gently yet quickly moved her leg away from him. She hadn't even realized she'd been touching him at all - not really, although thinking back she did recall the movement that had placed her leg there and the very conscious decision to leave it touching him, and even the idle stroking that had gone on - but mostly, it had completely slipped her notice. How very strange... How long--? But then she blushed internally as Eric cracked a few jokes about it - how embarrassing! She didn't know whether to be angry at Benoit for making her faux pas so blatantly obvious to everyone in the car or to be mortified that she'd done that to him in the first place, let alone the fact that the A-1 Agent now knew about it.
But more than anything she found it troubling that she hadn't even been aware she'd been doing it. Under normal circumstances she would have bitten anyone's limbs off if they'd even considered entering her personal space, let alone touching her, period. Ever since she'd started playing with Jason it seemed she couldn't keep her hands - or body parts - to herself and it was a most unnerving development. Something she'd have to work harder to keep an eye on. No, not just an eye, she needed to get a grip on herself! Otherwise, she'd make herself look incompetent in front of not only another Lead but her superior as well. If she still wanted to be considered when it came time for the body transfer, she had to make sure they knew she could handle it. She was still a professional.
Instead of acting embarrassed, once her gaze had left Benoit's leg and returned to the face of the man in the front passenger seat, she held firmly to a blank expression and did not look away from him. She was not going to even allude to the fact that the contact Benoit spoke of meant anything to her. It was a simple mistake and she'd gotten too close. It was over now. So, she waited patiently for Eric to eventually start answering her questions, her focus keeping her firmly in her own place perched between the two front seats, and hanging on his every word.
During his speech, she learned several things that had slipped by her before, one of which was the history behind the power he now possessed and another was the fact that Eric had motivations that did not fit in with the textbook goals the Agency put forth as the main focus behind body transfer. It made her glance at Benoit for a moment, knowing that he felt the opposite way, and in truth, she'd thought she was a minority in the way she felt about Gwen. The powers were a nice plus and she liked to tell herself that she was doing all of this to fulfill the Agency's agenda, but really, she hadn't felt that way ever since she was first made a Lead on Gwen's case.
The rest of what Eric said was like listening to a really juicy, dirty erotic tale and she found herself feeling that mixed burst of excitement and jealousy pulse through her internal layers as he spoke about his personal experiences - not only with the body transfer process itself, but the use of his original target's power which was essentially a very similar exchange, in her mind. It was all deliciously morbid as well and she found herself looking over Jean's form as he mentioned something about delayed decomposition. How very interesting. Even the description of the supposed pain of her mind being sucked out of her body had her restraining a heavy panting gasp in her throat.
Then she was left blinking blankly as he turned to her and addressed her with his own series of questions. The first couple were fairly simple and Benoit got it mostly right in responding to him, but she felt she had a bit more to add, especially with the new situation revolving around Jean's death. Sitting back smoothly in her seat, she leaned a hand on the window and felt the icy chill of the night air cover her skin and fill her bones.
"Well, Benoit is correct to a degree," she said in a deadpan voice, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder and out of her face as the wind danced with it. "The most we'll have to worry about from Gwen is the power of suggestion she will eventually develop. It will be the last degree of intensity that her powers will reach, being able to see every thought, emotion and memory and every nerve in the bodies and minds of those around her and manipulating them with a coaxing word, or implanting a thought in their heads. There is no A-3 level Agent that will fall to it - and anyone higher doesn't even enter into the equation of possibility.
"However, if she is able to focus all of her mental and psychical energy upon the task, she could turn any one of us into a puppet for however long the suggestion lasts for. The downside - for her - is that it will require an extreme amount of focus and effort. Even if she's practiced using the ability and has a firm handle on it, if she is not completely focused on the task, there is a mental recoil that could stun or even injure her. Not only that but it will drain her energy completely to "take over" someone of an A-3 rank and will leave her completely helpless and useless for a while afterward."
She sighed in a bored fashion and let her hand trail out the window idly, feeling the freezing wind prick her fingers and palm in a satisfyingly painful manner. "But as Benoit mentioned, she is not a real threat. Gwen is used to order and routine, of having a clearly defined space that is hers. She is weak in this chaos of constantly being hunted and easily malleable as a result. To top it all off, she is emotionally fragile at the moment and I severely doubt she would have any time to practice her abilities let alone the power and focus it would require to achieve any of the things I've mentioned in such a short time. It's simply not possible."
She fell silent for a few moments as she considered his last questions, her mind wandering through memory, briefly reliving the moment when she'd been handed the case file. "Richard Graninger, my training manager," she started, looking out her window, lost in thought. "My superior officer, Lotte Schwartz, received a call from him suggesting the particular case for me to work on. I was stuck working on Nathan's case at the time and since it was mostly in the lab at that point, Graninger thought I would be better utilized working in the field." It made her internally smile to think of how even though they'd been separated for two years, Graninger had still been keeping tabs on her and influencing her career from afar. She'd easily put a stop to that as soon as she'd signed onto the Stewart case, however.
"The case file landed on my desk but they left it up to me to take it or decline. She's an author, so I took the time to pick up what she'd written - two books published at the time - as well as digging up all I could on her current history. It was a lot and I was surprised since they hadn't had a file on her for very long - her newly established fame with her romance series made surveillance and information gathering pretty easy in the beginning. One thing I remember focusing on was her dating history, especially when I really got into her books. She wrote a romance story in a fantasy setting with a very upbeat yet realistic look at life and love. At times it seemed her writing could get a little dark, but there was this overabundance of optimism that bordered on naivete.
"In the past four years since she'd graduated high-school, she'd gone through 37 "steady" relationships of varying degrees of seriousness. 37. How could someone go through that many failed romances and still write like that? I remember asking myself," she looked around the car, realizing that she'd been talking for a while and stopped for a moment. They probably didn't understand the magic that Gwen possessed, the depth and soul that was clear in her writing, the longing for passionate connection and the blissful hope that out there somewhere there was someone for everyone. For the first time in a long time, Stephanie felt like a woman rather than just an Agent. Disgusted, she crushed the feeling and buried it and looked back out the window.
"Anyway, I was interested in what made her tick as a person and found a desire to get inside her head. At the time I had been working on a technique to shield myself from distractions and broaden my sphere of focus - the Emotion Desensitization Program - and it just happened to fit perfectly with what little they knew about her powers. So, I decided to take the case. As I developed and honed the technique I'd created for myself, it instantly got me a promotion once my superiors saw how it could be utilized against Stewart. When they found the flexibility with which I could maintain the EDP and how hard it was for other Agents on the team to develop it for themselves, I beat them all in the audition for body transfer as well."
Letting out a breath she looked out the front window and watched the road move by in the beams of the headlights. A sudden urge, from unknown origins, came over her then and she leaned forward to perch between the front seats again. Except this time, her attention was on Jason instead of the A-1 Agent. The fingers of her right hand slipped forward soundlessly and latched upon his earlobe, stroking the soft flesh in an enticing gesture.
"Pull over. I want to drive," she practically purred in what was clearly a sultry tone of voice. Of course, her being a Lead, he could not question her demand and as he slowed down and made his way to an idled stop on the shoulder of the road, her forefinger and middle fingers gently caressed his neck and played with the short curls around his ear. Even as seductive and light as the caress was, there was an ever present threat in how close her manicured fingernails were to the sensitive flesh of his throat.
As soon as the car came to a stop, she instantly moved from her seat and opened her door, stepping out into the cold night air. There was nothing but countryside bordering the highway and the buzzing sound of crickets could be heard in the sea of black that had descended around them. The headlights still shining upon the graveled edge of the pavement looked alien and menacing with the silhouette of black trees against the dark blue horizon. Swiftly, she switched places with Jason, fitting snugly into the front seat and moving her buttocks back and forth slightly, enjoying the warmth he'd left behind, if only for the fact that it was a small piece of him. It reminded her vaguely of what she imagined sitting in his lap would be like.
Adjusting the rearview mirror slightly she said in a monotone voice, "I must be honest with you, gentlemen - it's probably been about 4-5 years since I've driven a car." With both hands firmly on the wheel, she turned to look Eric straight in the eyes with only the light of the glowing dashboard to illuminate her stony face and said, "And I have to say, I'm a little excited." She couldn't sound less excited if she tried, despite the turbulent emotions running through her now. Without waiting for a response, the wheels screeched slightly as they began spinning upon the asphalt and she barreled back onto the main road, almost running into other cars as she seamlessly blended back into traffic.
Stephanie did not just play with the speed limit - she frigging abused the gas pedal as if pressing on it harder and harder was something she had no control over. But as always, the smooth expressionless tone of her features did not change and she swerved perilously between other cars on the highway, going much faster than anyone else and waiting until the last moment before avoiding a collision with any of them.
"So, Eric, I have to ask you," she said still in her unwavering deadpan, the wind tossing her golden locks about her bare shoulders. "And I mean no disrespect, sir or to imply anything. You must know that I idolize you and have the utmost respect for you and your genius - if I had the ability to do so, I would be drooling over myself just from sharing the same car with you." The car jerked haphazardly to the right as she quickly changed lanes and changed back around someone going the actual speed limit. There wasn't even a blip on her radar and she barely twitched her leg to relieve the pressure on the gas pedal for the movement.
"There's something that's been bugging me about the targets escaping from the facility and it regards the account my partner gave me when I questioned him more in depth about it. I understand that there are certain things about your position that give you leverage over the rest of us here. But I'm not fond of secrets. My partner informed me that he was ordered to let the targets escape by none other than Nathan - the pet project you're so excited about." She swerved again cutting off someone trying to change lanes ahead of her. With the windows down the blaring of the horns from two other cars she flew past could be heard very clearly but she didn't seem to notice.
"Now, my partner is not a stupid man and he doesn't bend to authority very easily - has a habit of talking back, if you hadn't noticed. And I'm wondering what exactly happened to move him to obey someone that is clearly not an Agent let alone a superior one. I'm not asking you to part with sensitive information, and in fact letting the targets escape was indeed part of the larger plan anyway. But it's bothering me, sir, and I was wondering if you might shed some light on the situation that might set my mind at ease." The car sped past a large semi-truck, the breath of it's large frame gusting into the windows for the few seconds before they passed it completely and still Stephanie continued to zig-zag through traffic oblivious of nearly hitting everyone she passed.
"It's not a big deal," she said blandly, with a small shifting of her shoulders that could have been a less defined shrug. "I'm just curious is all."
Not to mention it was frustrating as hell that people still wanted to talk while all of this was going on. With Alex, it was alright, half of it was him articulating thoughts directly to her. But when Ozzie started speaking, it divided Gwen's already split attention and she found herself wishing for the woman to just shut up and think to herself quietly for a while.
"Yeah, great," Ozzie said with a roll of her eyes as Alex settled back in his chair and began closing his eyes. Looking to the seats just in front of them where Rudy had disappeared, she said, "I didn't mean to saddle you guys with this, but I really can't be alone with this guy. He's a fucking nutjob. I appreciate you guys for putting up with us." There was no offer to leave if they wanted her to - probing her memories, Gwen realized this was a bit of a habit for Ozzie to use other people as a distraction to get away from the man.
"Why don't you just tell the police?" Gwen asked as if it were an obvious solution, casting a sneering glare towards the backs of the seats in front of them. She knew what it was like to have to deal with someone's unwanted attention and she didn't like the kind of person who would try to own someone's life like that. "Sometimes, their involvement is all it takes to deter a stalker."
For a moment her attention was diverted back to Alex as he started to question and search for a response from Xander. She waited for a few seconds, focusing on him and waiting for a response but when he got none, she felt a pang of guilt run through her. He was probably still mad at her about her exploding on him earlier. She still didn't know how she was going to apologize or explain to him that she was grateful for all that he'd done, and Gwen began to worry that he'd be giving them the silent treatment for the rest of the trip and possibly not lend a hand to help them when they broke into the facility at Charlton. Even as Alex began to think through some sort of plan, Gwen knew as he did that they probably wouldn't make it in, let alone back out again, without Xander's help. Crap, why did she have to get mad at him now? Hopefully he'd get over it by the time they got there.
A slight tugging on her consciousness brought her to "peeping" over Rudy's shoulder as he typed busily at the tiny keyboard of his phone, with the speed of one who barely thought about the act of moving his finger over the keys. She wasn't able to directly read Rudy's mind, but she could see clearly what he was typing and the responses from the person he was messaging.
come on baby you know i luv ya . don't be like that .
I'm serious, Quin! Quit fooling around!
relx got it all under control . im not messing up this time .
"I can't. The cops already don't like me," Ozzie said, responding to her suggestion, pulling Gwen's attention from Rudy's conversation. "And I doubt that even if I was a perfect angel, they'd lend a hand. You just don't know this guy..." She trailed off as she got lost in thought and Gwen followed her along a trail of memories that told a very clear story.
Osono met Rudy 7 years ago when he'd first moved into her apartment building - the first in a long line of apartments that Ozzie had rented over the years - and he's introduced himself as a dorky kid possibly with a crush on her and trying to make friends. Despite his obvious failings of connecting with Osono on a social level - the two had very different interests in taste - he had an unassuming way about him that eventually had her tolerating him to the point where they were hanging out constantly. That's when the trouble started.
Inexplicably, people began to follow her, men in unmarked vehicles would appear out of nowhere and attempt to grab her and drag her off somewhere, men with mirrored sunglasses would corner her in alleys and any police she encountered seemed to want more than just what they appeared to want - a cop had pulled her over once for speeding and even though she'd been on her best behavior, he'd insisted on taking her down to the station as if she were suddenly a murder suspect. And it all happened whenever Rudy was around and despite the man's continued reactions of astonishment and incredulity in face of these situations, Ozzie had begun suspecting him right away.
Especially when she tried to run and he'd insisted on going with her to "help" her out. After being with him so much, it had been an afterthought and even though he didn't take the whole thing as literally as she did - he seemed to think he was in some geeky TV show about conspiracy theories or something - she was a little remiss to be alone. Now, she couldn't get rid of him except for short periods of time and only ever experienced trouble with these nameless people when Rudy showed up again.
Gwen's eyes opened wide a few inches to discover that and instantly latched back onto Rudy and his conversation, hoping to glean more from him and her heart jumped into her throat to read what was being typed.
target will be acquired this time . stuck on bus . sending schedule to you now .
Good. A squad will be waiting to pick her up at each, just in case she decides to disembark. Try not to alert her of anything this time.
wat? me? no way! have the bed sheets cleaned and redy 4 use . tomorrow will be coming in i guarentee it .
Alright, Casanova.
Instantly, her hand slipped into Alex's, their fingers molding together and she gave him a tense squeeze.
Trouble! she pulsed to him frantically. I didn't realize until now because he was just a little spotty and I couldn't get a firm handle on him - I didn't think anything of it at the time - but from what's in her memories and from his text conversation... I think he's an Agent and he's after her. It could cause problems if he figures out who we are, though.
"Ahhh, sorry about that," Rudy said with a sigh as he popped his head back over the seats, leaning over the backs to talk to them and tucking his phone into his pocket. "Friend of mine was wondering where I am - supposed to meet her for some hot sex later. Did I hear somebody say 'Xander' over here?" The abrupt switch in conversation itself was a bit disturbing, but the question itself got Gwen to tense up again and she squeezed Alex's hand once more. It didn't help that Rudy waited a few minutes before continuing on, seemingly not noticing or caring that Alex had his eyes closed.
"From Buffy, right? The Vampire Slayer? Great character and loved the show. Joss Whedon is a genius. Never really got into Angel though - seemed a bit too emo for my tastes what with the whole 'tortured soul' thing--"
Gwen had been distantly aware of Ozzie's anger when he switched onto the subject but it was still a bit of a surprise when the woman suddenly kicked the main seat that Rudy was leaning on. The hinge of its back was rather loose so it flopped forward easily and jolted him a bit. When he'd righted himself he looked at her levelly and with a mockingly serious tone of voice shook his finger at her and said, "That wasn't very nice. Now I know you're excited about the topic, but I was talking. You need to wait your turn. I'm sure we'd all love to hear your input on why Firefly shouldn't have been canceled."
"No, quit geeking up the bus or I'm gonna set your shorts on fire," Osono said in an irritated tone of voice. Gwen blinked when she got a flash of memories of Ozzie setting other things on fire and she realized that the woman didn't need matches to do so. She gave Alex another squeeze.
Rudy looked down at himself for a moment as if he were inspecting the current state of his undergarments and looked back up asking, "You mean they aren't already?" There was the slightest pause and then he smirked and licked a fingertip, placing it on his backside with a hiss.
While Ozzie was busy groaning at that, Gwen was pulsing to Alex,
He's contacted someone and they're going to have people waiting at all the stops - at least until she gets off. Do you think we should just wait or--
"So where are we headed?" Rudy asked Ozzie, seemingly having forgotten Gwen and Alex for the moment. "What stop are you getting off at?"
"What stop are you getting off at?"
"Hm, I asked you first."
"Yes, but my response is dependent on getting off at the stop after yours, hopefully with several miles separating us," was the terse response.
Rudy looked up at the ceiling and thought to himself for a few minutes before finally saying, "Yeah, I think we should get off at Hammondsport, then." It was the last stop on the bus's schedule. "We gotta stick together, Oz." Gwen promptly informed Alex about the bus schedule before thinking,
I think she will follow us until we get rid of him. Considering who he's working for, I think it'd be a good idea to do that as soon as possible anyway. Maybe we can get the bus to stop early...?
"How about I sing us a song?" Rudy said, taking out his phone again. "I've got They Might Be Giants and Weird Al in my music files--" he was jolted again as Ozzie gave another forceful kick to his seat, but he was more prepared for it this time and it barely unhinged him at all. "I know you're excited to hear my lovely voice, but your exuberance is making me feel bashful."
"Does that mean you'll shut up?"
There was a long pause as he continued to scroll through the music on his phone. "No," he said with an absent-minded smile.
There was an almost perceptible frown on her face as she kept her eyes from meeting his and gently yet quickly moved her leg away from him. She hadn't even realized she'd been touching him at all - not really, although thinking back she did recall the movement that had placed her leg there and the very conscious decision to leave it touching him, and even the idle stroking that had gone on - but mostly, it had completely slipped her notice. How very strange... How long--? But then she blushed internally as Eric cracked a few jokes about it - how embarrassing! She didn't know whether to be angry at Benoit for making her faux pas so blatantly obvious to everyone in the car or to be mortified that she'd done that to him in the first place, let alone the fact that the A-1 Agent now knew about it.
But more than anything she found it troubling that she hadn't even been aware she'd been doing it. Under normal circumstances she would have bitten anyone's limbs off if they'd even considered entering her personal space, let alone touching her, period. Ever since she'd started playing with Jason it seemed she couldn't keep her hands - or body parts - to herself and it was a most unnerving development. Something she'd have to work harder to keep an eye on. No, not just an eye, she needed to get a grip on herself! Otherwise, she'd make herself look incompetent in front of not only another Lead but her superior as well. If she still wanted to be considered when it came time for the body transfer, she had to make sure they knew she could handle it. She was still a professional.
Instead of acting embarrassed, once her gaze had left Benoit's leg and returned to the face of the man in the front passenger seat, she held firmly to a blank expression and did not look away from him. She was not going to even allude to the fact that the contact Benoit spoke of meant anything to her. It was a simple mistake and she'd gotten too close. It was over now. So, she waited patiently for Eric to eventually start answering her questions, her focus keeping her firmly in her own place perched between the two front seats, and hanging on his every word.
During his speech, she learned several things that had slipped by her before, one of which was the history behind the power he now possessed and another was the fact that Eric had motivations that did not fit in with the textbook goals the Agency put forth as the main focus behind body transfer. It made her glance at Benoit for a moment, knowing that he felt the opposite way, and in truth, she'd thought she was a minority in the way she felt about Gwen. The powers were a nice plus and she liked to tell herself that she was doing all of this to fulfill the Agency's agenda, but really, she hadn't felt that way ever since she was first made a Lead on Gwen's case.
The rest of what Eric said was like listening to a really juicy, dirty erotic tale and she found herself feeling that mixed burst of excitement and jealousy pulse through her internal layers as he spoke about his personal experiences - not only with the body transfer process itself, but the use of his original target's power which was essentially a very similar exchange, in her mind. It was all deliciously morbid as well and she found herself looking over Jean's form as he mentioned something about delayed decomposition. How very interesting. Even the description of the supposed pain of her mind being sucked out of her body had her restraining a heavy panting gasp in her throat.
Then she was left blinking blankly as he turned to her and addressed her with his own series of questions. The first couple were fairly simple and Benoit got it mostly right in responding to him, but she felt she had a bit more to add, especially with the new situation revolving around Jean's death. Sitting back smoothly in her seat, she leaned a hand on the window and felt the icy chill of the night air cover her skin and fill her bones.
"Well, Benoit is correct to a degree," she said in a deadpan voice, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder and out of her face as the wind danced with it. "The most we'll have to worry about from Gwen is the power of suggestion she will eventually develop. It will be the last degree of intensity that her powers will reach, being able to see every thought, emotion and memory and every nerve in the bodies and minds of those around her and manipulating them with a coaxing word, or implanting a thought in their heads. There is no A-3 level Agent that will fall to it - and anyone higher doesn't even enter into the equation of possibility.
"However, if she is able to focus all of her mental and psychical energy upon the task, she could turn any one of us into a puppet for however long the suggestion lasts for. The downside - for her - is that it will require an extreme amount of focus and effort. Even if she's practiced using the ability and has a firm handle on it, if she is not completely focused on the task, there is a mental recoil that could stun or even injure her. Not only that but it will drain her energy completely to "take over" someone of an A-3 rank and will leave her completely helpless and useless for a while afterward."
She sighed in a bored fashion and let her hand trail out the window idly, feeling the freezing wind prick her fingers and palm in a satisfyingly painful manner. "But as Benoit mentioned, she is not a real threat. Gwen is used to order and routine, of having a clearly defined space that is hers. She is weak in this chaos of constantly being hunted and easily malleable as a result. To top it all off, she is emotionally fragile at the moment and I severely doubt she would have any time to practice her abilities let alone the power and focus it would require to achieve any of the things I've mentioned in such a short time. It's simply not possible."
She fell silent for a few moments as she considered his last questions, her mind wandering through memory, briefly reliving the moment when she'd been handed the case file. "Richard Graninger, my training manager," she started, looking out her window, lost in thought. "My superior officer, Lotte Schwartz, received a call from him suggesting the particular case for me to work on. I was stuck working on Nathan's case at the time and since it was mostly in the lab at that point, Graninger thought I would be better utilized working in the field." It made her internally smile to think of how even though they'd been separated for two years, Graninger had still been keeping tabs on her and influencing her career from afar. She'd easily put a stop to that as soon as she'd signed onto the Stewart case, however.
"The case file landed on my desk but they left it up to me to take it or decline. She's an author, so I took the time to pick up what she'd written - two books published at the time - as well as digging up all I could on her current history. It was a lot and I was surprised since they hadn't had a file on her for very long - her newly established fame with her romance series made surveillance and information gathering pretty easy in the beginning. One thing I remember focusing on was her dating history, especially when I really got into her books. She wrote a romance story in a fantasy setting with a very upbeat yet realistic look at life and love. At times it seemed her writing could get a little dark, but there was this overabundance of optimism that bordered on naivete.
"In the past four years since she'd graduated high-school, she'd gone through 37 "steady" relationships of varying degrees of seriousness. 37. How could someone go through that many failed romances and still write like that? I remember asking myself," she looked around the car, realizing that she'd been talking for a while and stopped for a moment. They probably didn't understand the magic that Gwen possessed, the depth and soul that was clear in her writing, the longing for passionate connection and the blissful hope that out there somewhere there was someone for everyone. For the first time in a long time, Stephanie felt like a woman rather than just an Agent. Disgusted, she crushed the feeling and buried it and looked back out the window.
"Anyway, I was interested in what made her tick as a person and found a desire to get inside her head. At the time I had been working on a technique to shield myself from distractions and broaden my sphere of focus - the Emotion Desensitization Program - and it just happened to fit perfectly with what little they knew about her powers. So, I decided to take the case. As I developed and honed the technique I'd created for myself, it instantly got me a promotion once my superiors saw how it could be utilized against Stewart. When they found the flexibility with which I could maintain the EDP and how hard it was for other Agents on the team to develop it for themselves, I beat them all in the audition for body transfer as well."
Letting out a breath she looked out the front window and watched the road move by in the beams of the headlights. A sudden urge, from unknown origins, came over her then and she leaned forward to perch between the front seats again. Except this time, her attention was on Jason instead of the A-1 Agent. The fingers of her right hand slipped forward soundlessly and latched upon his earlobe, stroking the soft flesh in an enticing gesture.
"Pull over. I want to drive," she practically purred in what was clearly a sultry tone of voice. Of course, her being a Lead, he could not question her demand and as he slowed down and made his way to an idled stop on the shoulder of the road, her forefinger and middle fingers gently caressed his neck and played with the short curls around his ear. Even as seductive and light as the caress was, there was an ever present threat in how close her manicured fingernails were to the sensitive flesh of his throat.
As soon as the car came to a stop, she instantly moved from her seat and opened her door, stepping out into the cold night air. There was nothing but countryside bordering the highway and the buzzing sound of crickets could be heard in the sea of black that had descended around them. The headlights still shining upon the graveled edge of the pavement looked alien and menacing with the silhouette of black trees against the dark blue horizon. Swiftly, she switched places with Jason, fitting snugly into the front seat and moving her buttocks back and forth slightly, enjoying the warmth he'd left behind, if only for the fact that it was a small piece of him. It reminded her vaguely of what she imagined sitting in his lap would be like.
Adjusting the rearview mirror slightly she said in a monotone voice, "I must be honest with you, gentlemen - it's probably been about 4-5 years since I've driven a car." With both hands firmly on the wheel, she turned to look Eric straight in the eyes with only the light of the glowing dashboard to illuminate her stony face and said, "And I have to say, I'm a little excited." She couldn't sound less excited if she tried, despite the turbulent emotions running through her now. Without waiting for a response, the wheels screeched slightly as they began spinning upon the asphalt and she barreled back onto the main road, almost running into other cars as she seamlessly blended back into traffic.
Stephanie did not just play with the speed limit - she frigging abused the gas pedal as if pressing on it harder and harder was something she had no control over. But as always, the smooth expressionless tone of her features did not change and she swerved perilously between other cars on the highway, going much faster than anyone else and waiting until the last moment before avoiding a collision with any of them.
"So, Eric, I have to ask you," she said still in her unwavering deadpan, the wind tossing her golden locks about her bare shoulders. "And I mean no disrespect, sir or to imply anything. You must know that I idolize you and have the utmost respect for you and your genius - if I had the ability to do so, I would be drooling over myself just from sharing the same car with you." The car jerked haphazardly to the right as she quickly changed lanes and changed back around someone going the actual speed limit. There wasn't even a blip on her radar and she barely twitched her leg to relieve the pressure on the gas pedal for the movement.
"There's something that's been bugging me about the targets escaping from the facility and it regards the account my partner gave me when I questioned him more in depth about it. I understand that there are certain things about your position that give you leverage over the rest of us here. But I'm not fond of secrets. My partner informed me that he was ordered to let the targets escape by none other than Nathan - the pet project you're so excited about." She swerved again cutting off someone trying to change lanes ahead of her. With the windows down the blaring of the horns from two other cars she flew past could be heard very clearly but she didn't seem to notice.
"Now, my partner is not a stupid man and he doesn't bend to authority very easily - has a habit of talking back, if you hadn't noticed. And I'm wondering what exactly happened to move him to obey someone that is clearly not an Agent let alone a superior one. I'm not asking you to part with sensitive information, and in fact letting the targets escape was indeed part of the larger plan anyway. But it's bothering me, sir, and I was wondering if you might shed some light on the situation that might set my mind at ease." The car sped past a large semi-truck, the breath of it's large frame gusting into the windows for the few seconds before they passed it completely and still Stephanie continued to zig-zag through traffic oblivious of nearly hitting everyone she passed.
"It's not a big deal," she said blandly, with a small shifting of her shoulders that could have been a less defined shrug. "I'm just curious is all."
***
Gwen was having headache problems of her own. Three people around her - one which she was trying to communicate with telepathically and trying to keep track of his thoughts on the current situation, another appeared to have memories of a long relationship with a "friendly stalker" and the last kept her busy trying to catch any thoughts that happened to flutter out of his walled up psyche. It was hard enough when she couldn't control the flow of what came into her head, but splitting her focus three ways seemed impossible. It seemed like every time she stopped to examine Ozzie's memories, Alex or Rudy would have a thought drawing her attention once more - with Rudy, if she wasn't there focusing on him when it happened, the thought or memory was like a shark fin appearing and then disappearing above the surface of deep, murky water.Not to mention it was frustrating as hell that people still wanted to talk while all of this was going on. With Alex, it was alright, half of it was him articulating thoughts directly to her. But when Ozzie started speaking, it divided Gwen's already split attention and she found herself wishing for the woman to just shut up and think to herself quietly for a while.
"Yeah, great," Ozzie said with a roll of her eyes as Alex settled back in his chair and began closing his eyes. Looking to the seats just in front of them where Rudy had disappeared, she said, "I didn't mean to saddle you guys with this, but I really can't be alone with this guy. He's a fucking nutjob. I appreciate you guys for putting up with us." There was no offer to leave if they wanted her to - probing her memories, Gwen realized this was a bit of a habit for Ozzie to use other people as a distraction to get away from the man.
"Why don't you just tell the police?" Gwen asked as if it were an obvious solution, casting a sneering glare towards the backs of the seats in front of them. She knew what it was like to have to deal with someone's unwanted attention and she didn't like the kind of person who would try to own someone's life like that. "Sometimes, their involvement is all it takes to deter a stalker."
For a moment her attention was diverted back to Alex as he started to question and search for a response from Xander. She waited for a few seconds, focusing on him and waiting for a response but when he got none, she felt a pang of guilt run through her. He was probably still mad at her about her exploding on him earlier. She still didn't know how she was going to apologize or explain to him that she was grateful for all that he'd done, and Gwen began to worry that he'd be giving them the silent treatment for the rest of the trip and possibly not lend a hand to help them when they broke into the facility at Charlton. Even as Alex began to think through some sort of plan, Gwen knew as he did that they probably wouldn't make it in, let alone back out again, without Xander's help. Crap, why did she have to get mad at him now? Hopefully he'd get over it by the time they got there.
A slight tugging on her consciousness brought her to "peeping" over Rudy's shoulder as he typed busily at the tiny keyboard of his phone, with the speed of one who barely thought about the act of moving his finger over the keys. She wasn't able to directly read Rudy's mind, but she could see clearly what he was typing and the responses from the person he was messaging.
come on baby you know i luv ya . don't be like that .
I'm serious, Quin! Quit fooling around!
relx got it all under control . im not messing up this time .
"I can't. The cops already don't like me," Ozzie said, responding to her suggestion, pulling Gwen's attention from Rudy's conversation. "And I doubt that even if I was a perfect angel, they'd lend a hand. You just don't know this guy..." She trailed off as she got lost in thought and Gwen followed her along a trail of memories that told a very clear story.
Osono met Rudy 7 years ago when he'd first moved into her apartment building - the first in a long line of apartments that Ozzie had rented over the years - and he's introduced himself as a dorky kid possibly with a crush on her and trying to make friends. Despite his obvious failings of connecting with Osono on a social level - the two had very different interests in taste - he had an unassuming way about him that eventually had her tolerating him to the point where they were hanging out constantly. That's when the trouble started.
Inexplicably, people began to follow her, men in unmarked vehicles would appear out of nowhere and attempt to grab her and drag her off somewhere, men with mirrored sunglasses would corner her in alleys and any police she encountered seemed to want more than just what they appeared to want - a cop had pulled her over once for speeding and even though she'd been on her best behavior, he'd insisted on taking her down to the station as if she were suddenly a murder suspect. And it all happened whenever Rudy was around and despite the man's continued reactions of astonishment and incredulity in face of these situations, Ozzie had begun suspecting him right away.
Especially when she tried to run and he'd insisted on going with her to "help" her out. After being with him so much, it had been an afterthought and even though he didn't take the whole thing as literally as she did - he seemed to think he was in some geeky TV show about conspiracy theories or something - she was a little remiss to be alone. Now, she couldn't get rid of him except for short periods of time and only ever experienced trouble with these nameless people when Rudy showed up again.
Gwen's eyes opened wide a few inches to discover that and instantly latched back onto Rudy and his conversation, hoping to glean more from him and her heart jumped into her throat to read what was being typed.
target will be acquired this time . stuck on bus . sending schedule to you now .
Good. A squad will be waiting to pick her up at each, just in case she decides to disembark. Try not to alert her of anything this time.
wat? me? no way! have the bed sheets cleaned and redy 4 use . tomorrow will be coming in i guarentee it .
Alright, Casanova.
Instantly, her hand slipped into Alex's, their fingers molding together and she gave him a tense squeeze.
Trouble! she pulsed to him frantically. I didn't realize until now because he was just a little spotty and I couldn't get a firm handle on him - I didn't think anything of it at the time - but from what's in her memories and from his text conversation... I think he's an Agent and he's after her. It could cause problems if he figures out who we are, though.
"Ahhh, sorry about that," Rudy said with a sigh as he popped his head back over the seats, leaning over the backs to talk to them and tucking his phone into his pocket. "Friend of mine was wondering where I am - supposed to meet her for some hot sex later. Did I hear somebody say 'Xander' over here?" The abrupt switch in conversation itself was a bit disturbing, but the question itself got Gwen to tense up again and she squeezed Alex's hand once more. It didn't help that Rudy waited a few minutes before continuing on, seemingly not noticing or caring that Alex had his eyes closed.
"From Buffy, right? The Vampire Slayer? Great character and loved the show. Joss Whedon is a genius. Never really got into Angel though - seemed a bit too emo for my tastes what with the whole 'tortured soul' thing--"
Gwen had been distantly aware of Ozzie's anger when he switched onto the subject but it was still a bit of a surprise when the woman suddenly kicked the main seat that Rudy was leaning on. The hinge of its back was rather loose so it flopped forward easily and jolted him a bit. When he'd righted himself he looked at her levelly and with a mockingly serious tone of voice shook his finger at her and said, "That wasn't very nice. Now I know you're excited about the topic, but I was talking. You need to wait your turn. I'm sure we'd all love to hear your input on why Firefly shouldn't have been canceled."
"No, quit geeking up the bus or I'm gonna set your shorts on fire," Osono said in an irritated tone of voice. Gwen blinked when she got a flash of memories of Ozzie setting other things on fire and she realized that the woman didn't need matches to do so. She gave Alex another squeeze.
Rudy looked down at himself for a moment as if he were inspecting the current state of his undergarments and looked back up asking, "You mean they aren't already?" There was the slightest pause and then he smirked and licked a fingertip, placing it on his backside with a hiss.
While Ozzie was busy groaning at that, Gwen was pulsing to Alex,
He's contacted someone and they're going to have people waiting at all the stops - at least until she gets off. Do you think we should just wait or--
"So where are we headed?" Rudy asked Ozzie, seemingly having forgotten Gwen and Alex for the moment. "What stop are you getting off at?"
"What stop are you getting off at?"
"Hm, I asked you first."
"Yes, but my response is dependent on getting off at the stop after yours, hopefully with several miles separating us," was the terse response.
Rudy looked up at the ceiling and thought to himself for a few minutes before finally saying, "Yeah, I think we should get off at Hammondsport, then." It was the last stop on the bus's schedule. "We gotta stick together, Oz." Gwen promptly informed Alex about the bus schedule before thinking,
I think she will follow us until we get rid of him. Considering who he's working for, I think it'd be a good idea to do that as soon as possible anyway. Maybe we can get the bus to stop early...?
"How about I sing us a song?" Rudy said, taking out his phone again. "I've got They Might Be Giants and Weird Al in my music files--" he was jolted again as Ozzie gave another forceful kick to his seat, but he was more prepared for it this time and it barely unhinged him at all. "I know you're excited to hear my lovely voice, but your exuberance is making me feel bashful."
"Does that mean you'll shut up?"
There was a long pause as he continued to scroll through the music on his phone. "No," he said with an absent-minded smile.
Last edited by TimeOfTheEye on Thu Nov 18, 2010 10:41 am; edited 1 time in total
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Sat Sep 18, 2010 6:38 pm
Did anybody mind if Jason freaked the fuck out about the way she was driving? Yes? No? Some kind of an answer? Anyone?
Benoit didn’t seem to care. He barely moved as the car skidded left and only just missed tearing off a front bumper. It probably had less to do with her dormant skill and more with the wrath of God saying he wasn’t getting out of this that easily, but it could’ve also been the mystical air the A-1 had around him. He seemed to naturally make things better by simply being around. Jason wouldn’t have been surprised if he went outside and found the car wrapped in a cocoon of joy and good feelings, like he almost expected it to be already. He certainly wasn’t complaining about the new and psychotic driver. He wasn’t moving either, but it was because he was flowing with the motion – the man was a master of his form if he’d already figured out how to do that in a cramped seat – rather than killing it with hate like Frenchie.
Eric was taking his time answering. He leaned his head back against the rest, idly fixing his glasses to return them to their proper place, and traded his outrageously gleeful attitude for one more thoughtfully content.
“‘Just curious’,” he murmured, talking over the car’s engine and the screaming drivers outside. “Sure, I guess you’ve got a right to wonder about it.” He turned his head towards the rear-view and gave Jason a knowing smile - as friendly as before, he noted, but decidedly more focused. Jason snapped to attention as best he could. “Do you mind...?”
Elaborating. Eric wanted Jason to explain what had happened. Again. For the third time. Orders were orders, but it wasn’t as though he was hiding some crucial detail from his lead that he’d sown only to reveal after a certain number of requests. He took a breath, dug his hands deeper into the sides of the car, and then dryly recited, “Moments after Jean was killed by Alexander, I was approached by the boy you said was your project. He told me to let them go, not ask questions, then gave them both directions to the exit. I’m not sure when he left. By the time the leads arrived, he’d vanished.”
“He didn’t teleport, that’s for sure,” Eric said. “If he got that working, he wouldn’t’ve hung around the halls. So he walked off, and you didn’t see him.”
“Uh...” He wasn’t being accused. Still, it felt that way. “Yes.”
“Huh. Little bastard’s slippery. That’s why I’ve gotta keep him in chains,” he said. “Everything on him’s there to cancel out something.” Eric thought it over for another minute. “Well, Stephanie – there’s not a whole lot I can say. As far as I’m aware or otherwise obligated to inform my favoured underlings, there are two personalities inside Nathan’s consciousness still considered active cases and flight-risks. But it couldn’t be Maggie – she’s too crazy from her post-transfer coma to string more than three words together, and it couldn’t be David ‘cause he’s more of the ‘run the hell out of there, don’t waste my time going back’ kind of guy. So I don’t know. You’ve given me something to think about. I’d hate to think I’d have to put up with this a second time.”
Benoit gave an annoyed grunt. He’d picked up on the subtle invitation to ask Eric to explain, too.
“What do you mean by ‘a second time’?”
“Oh, you know,” the man said, as if he couldn’t bear reliving the frustration. “There was this problem with one confidential part of Nathan that wouldn’t go away. Don’t worry, it’s under control. It’s not like anything would happen, even if he made it out of his shackles. He learned his lesson after he tried and failed to sabotage a few of the Agency’s toys. By the way, Jason, you’re an A-6 now.”
... What?
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah – sorry, it’s protocol,” Eric chirped. “I’m sure he was convincing, but I can’t let a guy who allows some random kid tell two identified targets to book it down the nearest escape hatch go unpunished. Sets a bad precedent.”
Wait – wait – wait – wait –
“Did you demote me?”
“Yup.”
... Wait – wait – wait – wait –
“You can’t do that!”
“Sure I can. If I want, I can make you an A-20.”
“There isn’t –”
“That’s the beauty of it, Jay-jay! I can create another level purely to have something else to drag you through.” From nowhere, he’d produced another stack of forms and started leafing through them. “Don’t take it personally. And don’t be so glum, chum! If you want, you can keep the A-5 and I’ll break your neck instead. I’m dandy with either option, I just need something to put on paper. Sign here, please.” And he magicked up a pen to go along with it. “Nice and bright.”
This wasn’t happening. This was... a nightmarish... thing. He was having another suit-induced hallucination out of grief or out of stress, but it... it felt real enough. His hand was limp and weightless as it reached for the document – already filled out, so when the hell did that happen? – and that nearly convinced him he was dreaming, but his fingers hit a very solid sheet, one whose skin as pale as the warehouse and whose ink, dead-faced and blunt, was laughing as Jason’s eyes went over it.
Demoted. A demotion slip. He had to sign to acknowledge that he’d received and accepted what had happened, and although he should’ve been delighted he’d reached a high enough level to actually be informed of situation instead of having it stuck on his file for him to stumble across days later, a bitter tang took over his mouth and choked him.
“I really...” Head swimming? Throat closing? Hands shaking? He was grateful that his lead had forced the windows open, otherwise he would’ve passed out. “I really have to sign this?”
“Afraid so, Jason. But you can keep the pen,” Eric said. “It’s got a little happy face on it. Makes me smile when I’m down. And there’s a little spring, so you can flick it when you’re bored! The Agency thinks of everything. Stephanie, can you spare a sec to sign, too? As his lead, you’re required to blah-blah-blah, the Agency hates rainforests.” He held out his hand for the one he’d given to Jason, clearly intending to give it to her. “Benny, you wanna sign? I feel bad leaving you –”
“You have enough from me.”
“That’s a ‘no’, then. Jason, let’s get a move on. It doesn’t even have to be your name – draw a star, make a circle, write a big ‘fuck you’ if it floats your boat.”
Jason was taking so long because he couldn’t keep the pen steady. He dropped it and lost the stupid thing behind his lead’s seat. As he reached down to scramble for it, he knocked his head against her chair, and that, paired off with the insanity behind the steering wheel, did not make this the most comfortable position to be in. He could hear the A-1 laughing at his antics and kicked himself – literally, as if it wasn’t already horrible – for being dumb enough to get into this mess at all. He took back what he’d said before about this case being a curse. It was, most definitely, but he didn’t have the right to say it then. Now he meant it.
“Here,” he said hoarsely, illegibly scrawling across the line that’d been pointed out. He handed it back as if his soul was attached to it, and when Eric proudly took the form away and held it ready for his lead whenever she decided to stop running over small animals, he felt a rush of energy leave his body and he slumped back into his seat. That was when a different form was pushed towards him. “What’s that one?”
“That one’s for the suit.”
... A-6’s didn’t get suits. They weren't trusted.
“You’re taking my suit away.” His breathing was picking up. “You’re... Are you serious?”
“It’s not like I’m gonna make you strip this second,” Eric said. “Buuuut it goes without saying it’ll add to your record if you’re caught wearing that once these get processed.” Not once had he ever made a mistake like this. Perfect. He’d been perfect. “If it’ll make you feel better, I can’t hand them in until we get to Charlton. Unless, of course, you’re in a rush and want to head back to Elmira.”
“No. Charlton’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine.
“You had a fellow Agent killed and you let two targets go,” Benoit said, growling beneath a stream of smoke that pushed against the window he’d rolled back up. “Thank God we planned for one of those, otherwise I would have broken your neck myself. Consider this something ‘light’.”
“Right. Plus – you could always earn it back,” Eric went on. “It might take longer than what you’re hoping for, but you seem to be good at your job. From what I hear, not from what I’ve seen.”
His first chance to work with an A-1 and it had to be precisely when Jason was at his lowest. It made sense. If everything he worked for wasn’t being shredded, would there have been any need for Eric to come with them?
“So I have my suit until Charlton.”
“Right.”
“And then...?”
“You go back to doing what you do,” Eric said. “You’re not being fired! You’re just losing a gadget or two.”
“Nothing new.”
What? So – Benoit hated Eric, but was perfectly fine about ganging up with him? Thanks a lot, Frenchie. Good to know whose side he was on.
“That’s true,” Eric agreed. “Didn’t you get those back a few hours ago? Aren’t they wiped?”
“That’s why I asked for you to bring Gary to Charlton,” Jason explained. “I was trying to restore them!”
“Then that’s a ‘yes, they were stolen by my target and then they were wiped’.” Eric shook his head. “That’s a shame, Jason. I expected more than this. A guy doesn’t get to be an A-5 without proving himself and I’m just not seeing what whoever promoted you saw.” He gave a look to his lead, his smile growing the tiniest bit impatient. “What happened to the rest of your team? Is he all you brought?”
“The others are dead,” Benoit muttered. And at the sharp look he got from Jason, the man curled his lip and harshly fired, “Is there a problem?”
A-3. Higher rank. He shut his mouth and went back to staring out the window.
He’d said he’d had six things to worry about before. That had jumped to nine. An A-1 thought he was pathetic and that’d wreak havoc on any other assignments he’d be considered for, he was losing his suit and ultimately the entire point of being involved with this assignment, and now, apparently, in lieu of anyone better to blame – since his precious Alexander was too fucking wonderful to do anything wrong – Benoit had fallen one measly step behind outright pinning the Flunky’s death on Jason. That was a dangerous axe grind, and there was no way to prove that he’d done everything he thought he should’ve. That kid had been so in charge and so knowing... If anyone else had been there, they wouldn’t have questioned it. But they weren’t, and the only other witnesses were probably halfway to Charlton. As if they screamed ‘credible and compliant’ anyway.
This time, he didn’t bother mourning his loss. He’d save it for whatever else was coming. And something else was coming, purely because there he could think of two other ways this week could go terribly, terribly wrong. That was Murphy’s Law, wasn’t it?
Well.
Damn.
“So! Now that’s more or less settled,” Eric said, “how much longer ‘til we get out of this car? I could go for some corporate jet right now. Anyone else?”
Why the hell did everyone around him have to be a part of the Agency? Somehow, some way, everything came back to those people. Peter? Agent in disguise. Xander? Agent in disgrace. Gwen? Agency’s newest target. And now these two? No. No more of this. He’d had way the hell enough and there was too much for him to deal with as it was.
Stop the bus early? That sounded helpful. He felt bad for whatever that guy wanted to do that girl – not like it was a hard guess – but he couldn’t save everybody at once. Alex straightened up and let the news flood him with desperate strength. And the bus schedule. Gwen was right – it wasn’t going to take them very far, but even where they were now, where they were going to, they should’ve been able to find a direct route. The next stop was... Terreston? A small in-between town, he figured. Never heard of it. He hadn’t heard of a lot of these places. Oh, the joys of constantly being on the run. If he got paid to find new places, he’d be rich by now.
“We’re getting off,” he mumbled. “It’s fine if she follows us – we’ll lose her later – but we can’t be stuck in here with them.”
That went double if he was going to sing.
Agents at all stops... or whoever else the guy had called. It should’ve been enough to justify an extra large helping of brain-fry, but if this girl knew who the Agency was or what they wanted with her, any display of what he could do would have her attached to their hip until they could stick her in a cage. Alex admit, he would’ve liked more help with what they were going to do. As far as storming the gates was supposed to go, they were pretty weak on an army. But that meant they had to go with stealth, and they couldn’t stealth with three people nearly as they could with two. It was for the best. And if they managed to find a way to help her and everyone else once they’d gotten Xander out of his head, that’d be even better, but until then...
“Come on. The next stop is two minutes away.” After that, according to what Gwen had shown him, they’d have to wait a half an hour to get the next one, and then two hours as they headed into the next major city. By then, the careful hope that whoever had been called wouldn’t be there yet would been picked up, broken, torn into pieces, melted into a plate, then chucked off a mountain. “Hurry. We can’t miss this.”
And what did Xander think of the idea? Anything yet?
...
Whatever. Off the bus, where they could deal with Mr. Sour-Pants, too.
Alex could see a small station through the darkening windows. The sun was gone now, but he could make out a crowd all the same. A crowd of normal people, he meant, not hyper-bloodthirsty super-assassins waiting to tackle them to the ground and suck out his brain. He stood up and pulled his bag onto his shoulder, pleased to know it wasn’t shrieking in pain but still getting a solid grimace on his face from the weight.
“Okay. We’re going now. This is our stop.”
Dude.
What?
Ah, crap. That made it sound like he was inviting them. He shouldn’t’ve said anything!
“Good luck with your – uh... whatever it is.”
There. Better. Now they knew he was ditching them rather than trying to ‘save’ anyone. If it got the message across, fantastic. If not... well – they’d be somewhere more open. If he needed to fry-and-flee, that’d be an option again. With that in mind, he gave a look to Gwen to try and get her on her feet.
“We’ll get something to eat while we’re here,” he told her. “I don’t think that pastry’s going to last me through the night.”
Benoit didn’t seem to care. He barely moved as the car skidded left and only just missed tearing off a front bumper. It probably had less to do with her dormant skill and more with the wrath of God saying he wasn’t getting out of this that easily, but it could’ve also been the mystical air the A-1 had around him. He seemed to naturally make things better by simply being around. Jason wouldn’t have been surprised if he went outside and found the car wrapped in a cocoon of joy and good feelings, like he almost expected it to be already. He certainly wasn’t complaining about the new and psychotic driver. He wasn’t moving either, but it was because he was flowing with the motion – the man was a master of his form if he’d already figured out how to do that in a cramped seat – rather than killing it with hate like Frenchie.
Eric was taking his time answering. He leaned his head back against the rest, idly fixing his glasses to return them to their proper place, and traded his outrageously gleeful attitude for one more thoughtfully content.
“‘Just curious’,” he murmured, talking over the car’s engine and the screaming drivers outside. “Sure, I guess you’ve got a right to wonder about it.” He turned his head towards the rear-view and gave Jason a knowing smile - as friendly as before, he noted, but decidedly more focused. Jason snapped to attention as best he could. “Do you mind...?”
Elaborating. Eric wanted Jason to explain what had happened. Again. For the third time. Orders were orders, but it wasn’t as though he was hiding some crucial detail from his lead that he’d sown only to reveal after a certain number of requests. He took a breath, dug his hands deeper into the sides of the car, and then dryly recited, “Moments after Jean was killed by Alexander, I was approached by the boy you said was your project. He told me to let them go, not ask questions, then gave them both directions to the exit. I’m not sure when he left. By the time the leads arrived, he’d vanished.”
“He didn’t teleport, that’s for sure,” Eric said. “If he got that working, he wouldn’t’ve hung around the halls. So he walked off, and you didn’t see him.”
“Uh...” He wasn’t being accused. Still, it felt that way. “Yes.”
“Huh. Little bastard’s slippery. That’s why I’ve gotta keep him in chains,” he said. “Everything on him’s there to cancel out something.” Eric thought it over for another minute. “Well, Stephanie – there’s not a whole lot I can say. As far as I’m aware or otherwise obligated to inform my favoured underlings, there are two personalities inside Nathan’s consciousness still considered active cases and flight-risks. But it couldn’t be Maggie – she’s too crazy from her post-transfer coma to string more than three words together, and it couldn’t be David ‘cause he’s more of the ‘run the hell out of there, don’t waste my time going back’ kind of guy. So I don’t know. You’ve given me something to think about. I’d hate to think I’d have to put up with this a second time.”
Benoit gave an annoyed grunt. He’d picked up on the subtle invitation to ask Eric to explain, too.
“What do you mean by ‘a second time’?”
“Oh, you know,” the man said, as if he couldn’t bear reliving the frustration. “There was this problem with one confidential part of Nathan that wouldn’t go away. Don’t worry, it’s under control. It’s not like anything would happen, even if he made it out of his shackles. He learned his lesson after he tried and failed to sabotage a few of the Agency’s toys. By the way, Jason, you’re an A-6 now.”
... What?
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah – sorry, it’s protocol,” Eric chirped. “I’m sure he was convincing, but I can’t let a guy who allows some random kid tell two identified targets to book it down the nearest escape hatch go unpunished. Sets a bad precedent.”
Wait – wait – wait – wait –
“Did you demote me?”
“Yup.”
... Wait – wait – wait – wait –
“You can’t do that!”
“Sure I can. If I want, I can make you an A-20.”
“There isn’t –”
“That’s the beauty of it, Jay-jay! I can create another level purely to have something else to drag you through.” From nowhere, he’d produced another stack of forms and started leafing through them. “Don’t take it personally. And don’t be so glum, chum! If you want, you can keep the A-5 and I’ll break your neck instead. I’m dandy with either option, I just need something to put on paper. Sign here, please.” And he magicked up a pen to go along with it. “Nice and bright.”
This wasn’t happening. This was... a nightmarish... thing. He was having another suit-induced hallucination out of grief or out of stress, but it... it felt real enough. His hand was limp and weightless as it reached for the document – already filled out, so when the hell did that happen? – and that nearly convinced him he was dreaming, but his fingers hit a very solid sheet, one whose skin as pale as the warehouse and whose ink, dead-faced and blunt, was laughing as Jason’s eyes went over it.
Demoted. A demotion slip. He had to sign to acknowledge that he’d received and accepted what had happened, and although he should’ve been delighted he’d reached a high enough level to actually be informed of situation instead of having it stuck on his file for him to stumble across days later, a bitter tang took over his mouth and choked him.
“I really...” Head swimming? Throat closing? Hands shaking? He was grateful that his lead had forced the windows open, otherwise he would’ve passed out. “I really have to sign this?”
“Afraid so, Jason. But you can keep the pen,” Eric said. “It’s got a little happy face on it. Makes me smile when I’m down. And there’s a little spring, so you can flick it when you’re bored! The Agency thinks of everything. Stephanie, can you spare a sec to sign, too? As his lead, you’re required to blah-blah-blah, the Agency hates rainforests.” He held out his hand for the one he’d given to Jason, clearly intending to give it to her. “Benny, you wanna sign? I feel bad leaving you –”
“You have enough from me.”
“That’s a ‘no’, then. Jason, let’s get a move on. It doesn’t even have to be your name – draw a star, make a circle, write a big ‘fuck you’ if it floats your boat.”
Jason was taking so long because he couldn’t keep the pen steady. He dropped it and lost the stupid thing behind his lead’s seat. As he reached down to scramble for it, he knocked his head against her chair, and that, paired off with the insanity behind the steering wheel, did not make this the most comfortable position to be in. He could hear the A-1 laughing at his antics and kicked himself – literally, as if it wasn’t already horrible – for being dumb enough to get into this mess at all. He took back what he’d said before about this case being a curse. It was, most definitely, but he didn’t have the right to say it then. Now he meant it.
“Here,” he said hoarsely, illegibly scrawling across the line that’d been pointed out. He handed it back as if his soul was attached to it, and when Eric proudly took the form away and held it ready for his lead whenever she decided to stop running over small animals, he felt a rush of energy leave his body and he slumped back into his seat. That was when a different form was pushed towards him. “What’s that one?”
“That one’s for the suit.”
... A-6’s didn’t get suits. They weren't trusted.
“You’re taking my suit away.” His breathing was picking up. “You’re... Are you serious?”
“It’s not like I’m gonna make you strip this second,” Eric said. “Buuuut it goes without saying it’ll add to your record if you’re caught wearing that once these get processed.” Not once had he ever made a mistake like this. Perfect. He’d been perfect. “If it’ll make you feel better, I can’t hand them in until we get to Charlton. Unless, of course, you’re in a rush and want to head back to Elmira.”
“No. Charlton’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine.
“You had a fellow Agent killed and you let two targets go,” Benoit said, growling beneath a stream of smoke that pushed against the window he’d rolled back up. “Thank God we planned for one of those, otherwise I would have broken your neck myself. Consider this something ‘light’.”
“Right. Plus – you could always earn it back,” Eric went on. “It might take longer than what you’re hoping for, but you seem to be good at your job. From what I hear, not from what I’ve seen.”
His first chance to work with an A-1 and it had to be precisely when Jason was at his lowest. It made sense. If everything he worked for wasn’t being shredded, would there have been any need for Eric to come with them?
“So I have my suit until Charlton.”
“Right.”
“And then...?”
“You go back to doing what you do,” Eric said. “You’re not being fired! You’re just losing a gadget or two.”
“Nothing new.”
What? So – Benoit hated Eric, but was perfectly fine about ganging up with him? Thanks a lot, Frenchie. Good to know whose side he was on.
“That’s true,” Eric agreed. “Didn’t you get those back a few hours ago? Aren’t they wiped?”
“That’s why I asked for you to bring Gary to Charlton,” Jason explained. “I was trying to restore them!”
“Then that’s a ‘yes, they were stolen by my target and then they were wiped’.” Eric shook his head. “That’s a shame, Jason. I expected more than this. A guy doesn’t get to be an A-5 without proving himself and I’m just not seeing what whoever promoted you saw.” He gave a look to his lead, his smile growing the tiniest bit impatient. “What happened to the rest of your team? Is he all you brought?”
“The others are dead,” Benoit muttered. And at the sharp look he got from Jason, the man curled his lip and harshly fired, “Is there a problem?”
A-3. Higher rank. He shut his mouth and went back to staring out the window.
He’d said he’d had six things to worry about before. That had jumped to nine. An A-1 thought he was pathetic and that’d wreak havoc on any other assignments he’d be considered for, he was losing his suit and ultimately the entire point of being involved with this assignment, and now, apparently, in lieu of anyone better to blame – since his precious Alexander was too fucking wonderful to do anything wrong – Benoit had fallen one measly step behind outright pinning the Flunky’s death on Jason. That was a dangerous axe grind, and there was no way to prove that he’d done everything he thought he should’ve. That kid had been so in charge and so knowing... If anyone else had been there, they wouldn’t have questioned it. But they weren’t, and the only other witnesses were probably halfway to Charlton. As if they screamed ‘credible and compliant’ anyway.
This time, he didn’t bother mourning his loss. He’d save it for whatever else was coming. And something else was coming, purely because there he could think of two other ways this week could go terribly, terribly wrong. That was Murphy’s Law, wasn’t it?
Well.
Damn.
“So! Now that’s more or less settled,” Eric said, “how much longer ‘til we get out of this car? I could go for some corporate jet right now. Anyone else?”
* * *
Why the hell did everyone around him have to be a part of the Agency? Somehow, some way, everything came back to those people. Peter? Agent in disguise. Xander? Agent in disgrace. Gwen? Agency’s newest target. And now these two? No. No more of this. He’d had way the hell enough and there was too much for him to deal with as it was.
Stop the bus early? That sounded helpful. He felt bad for whatever that guy wanted to do that girl – not like it was a hard guess – but he couldn’t save everybody at once. Alex straightened up and let the news flood him with desperate strength. And the bus schedule. Gwen was right – it wasn’t going to take them very far, but even where they were now, where they were going to, they should’ve been able to find a direct route. The next stop was... Terreston? A small in-between town, he figured. Never heard of it. He hadn’t heard of a lot of these places. Oh, the joys of constantly being on the run. If he got paid to find new places, he’d be rich by now.
“We’re getting off,” he mumbled. “It’s fine if she follows us – we’ll lose her later – but we can’t be stuck in here with them.”
That went double if he was going to sing.
Agents at all stops... or whoever else the guy had called. It should’ve been enough to justify an extra large helping of brain-fry, but if this girl knew who the Agency was or what they wanted with her, any display of what he could do would have her attached to their hip until they could stick her in a cage. Alex admit, he would’ve liked more help with what they were going to do. As far as storming the gates was supposed to go, they were pretty weak on an army. But that meant they had to go with stealth, and they couldn’t stealth with three people nearly as they could with two. It was for the best. And if they managed to find a way to help her and everyone else once they’d gotten Xander out of his head, that’d be even better, but until then...
“Come on. The next stop is two minutes away.” After that, according to what Gwen had shown him, they’d have to wait a half an hour to get the next one, and then two hours as they headed into the next major city. By then, the careful hope that whoever had been called wouldn’t be there yet would been picked up, broken, torn into pieces, melted into a plate, then chucked off a mountain. “Hurry. We can’t miss this.”
And what did Xander think of the idea? Anything yet?
...
Whatever. Off the bus, where they could deal with Mr. Sour-Pants, too.
Alex could see a small station through the darkening windows. The sun was gone now, but he could make out a crowd all the same. A crowd of normal people, he meant, not hyper-bloodthirsty super-assassins waiting to tackle them to the ground and suck out his brain. He stood up and pulled his bag onto his shoulder, pleased to know it wasn’t shrieking in pain but still getting a solid grimace on his face from the weight.
“Okay. We’re going now. This is our stop.”
Dude.
What?
Ah, crap. That made it sound like he was inviting them. He shouldn’t’ve said anything!
“Good luck with your – uh... whatever it is.”
There. Better. Now they knew he was ditching them rather than trying to ‘save’ anyone. If it got the message across, fantastic. If not... well – they’d be somewhere more open. If he needed to fry-and-flee, that’d be an option again. With that in mind, he gave a look to Gwen to try and get her on her feet.
“We’ll get something to eat while we’re here,” he told her. “I don’t think that pastry’s going to last me through the night.”
Last edited by Tartra on Sun Jan 30, 2011 3:29 pm; edited 1 time in total
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Sun Sep 19, 2010 12:58 am
As Jason retold the report she'd been given, she listened closely to Eric's voice as he gave his answer, searching for any subtleties that weren't explicitly expressed in the words themselves. If there were, he was hiding it well, seemingly genuinely shocked about the circumstances of the targets escape. It was a bit of a let-down, but Stephanie still kept in reserve a bit of doubt. It seemed a constant now this feeling that someone was always keeping something from her or trying to deceive her in some way. Nobody could be trusted.
Her suspicious sniffing was brought to a halt however when Eric made the announcement about Jason's sudden demotion. Instantly, Stephanie's eyes skittered to the rear view mirror and she watched, while keeping a general eye on the road, as Jason's expression went from one of confusion, disbelief and then horror. Her heart began pounding wildly in her chest even as the car slowed to a more reasonable speed, and she was completely oblivious as all the people she'd almost crashed into before began passing her, throwing offensive gestures at her on their way by. She was completely wrapped up inside the car and operated the vehicle purely on auto-pilot.
When the stack of forms was passed into the backseat, she almost burst into a smile at the completely lost look on her partner's face, the expression instantly cut off at the A-1's offer to kill Jason instead. For a few seconds Stephanie's heart fluttered with excitement at the thought and possibility of Eric then transferring again - and into JASON no less! - but she grew sober at the idea of losing her toy. For the most part she returned to basking in Jason's misery as the first levels of what was happening to him were finally hitting home, each moment drenched in muscle twitches upon his face. She bit the inside of her lip to keep in a moan when she watched him realize he'd be losing his suit as well, the leather of the steering wheel creaking as her grip tightened to keep the emotions in as she beheld that barely hidden look of sorrow.
God, he was so fucking gorgeous right now. Empathy or pity was completely nonexistent inside her inner layers; there was nothing but pure unadulterated lust and desire. If only he were within reach! With a few well timed pinches and stabs with her fingernails, and a expertly aimed smack to the face, she could have gotten the tears to flow most definitely! The image of Jason blubbering helplessly or even screaming with rage excited her beyond belief and she had a bit of trouble focusing on the road as her vision began to swim. Good Lord! What was this man doing to her!?
There was a moment when her head cleared enough for her to feel a flash of protective anger when Eric bad-mouthed her partner, but upon rational consideration, she had to agree. She felt the same way. Jason had not turned out to be all that his rap sheet had played him up as and she realized she'd gotten to the point of not only expecting it but tolerating it. Which was why she hadn't thought to really punish him when he'd told her the reason he'd let the targets get away. She'd been...preoccupied anyway.
As the stack of papers was set beside her on the divider between the two seats, Stephanie's eyes couldn't help but leave the road, looking down at the still wet and sloppy signature. Even in the dim green lights she could see the shaky hand the letters were scrawled in, the absolute despair it articulated. It was a permanent scar upon his record and a statement of his submission to the authority of the higher ranked Agent. As forced as it had been, Jason had willingly put his name down on paper - like cutting off both of his arms and offering them up to the A-1 in a grand sacrifice to his will and dominance. It was a thing of beauty and something she wanted from Jason more than anything else he might be good for.
Even in the dashboard lights she could see the slight shine of moisture, her heart thundering in her ears and making everything else sound like it was coming to her through water. The hand on the inside of the car drifted from the steering wheel to lightly dab her slender middle finger upon the tail end of the last letter, coming away with a pinprick of dark liquid. Lifting it up, she looked at it and rubbed her thumb against it, smudging the wetness until it left a black stain upon her finger tip. Then she moved it to dip between her lips, her tongue touching upon the bitter stain to taste his glorious shame and humility.
"Mhn," she murmured in a soft, aroused grunt, before snapping to attention, her hand flying back to join the other on the wheel and righting it. Instantly, she stopped drifting into the left lane and was once again in her own, and she adjusted herself in her seat surreptitiously, realizing that she'd almost crashed them into somebody driving beside them. Clearing her throat, her voice wobbled just the tiniest bit before returning to her usual flat tone.
"J-jet? Well, we've just passed Mansfield a few minutes ago," realizing that she was going 10 under the speed limit, she started to reapply pressure on the gas pedal. "I hadn't planned on stopping until Hammondsport - it's 1/3 of the way there and seemed like good ground covered for the night. But I suppose we could fly if you want, sir..."
She trailed off into silence as she once again berated herself internally and desperately tried to reestablish the control she'd lost. What the fuck was going on inside her mind? It was becoming increasingly clear to her that whatever control she'd once had over every aspect of her personality, emotions and appearances was crumbling rapidly. But the worst part of this realization was that she was losing herself so deeply, she worried she wouldn't even be aware of it when she eventually lost her hold completely. Charlton. She just needed to hold out until Charlton. All of this wouldn't matter once she got inside Gwen's body. Then she would be free...
Hearing Alex mumble to her that they were getting off, she nodded slightly and felt a burst of comfort that he was handling things now. And even though Gwen was almost positive that Osono had Agents after her, Alex's thoughts about not letting her know that they were in the same boat seemed like a smart move. Although it did seem like a good idea to keep Ozzie with them - it always helped to have an extra set of powers under their belt especially if they were able to keep it a secret from the Agency. Just one more card up their sleeve. If Xander was planning on sitting this Charlton ride out, then they could use all the help they could get. No offense to Alex, but Xander really was like a superhero in berserker clothes.
And just like that, it was decided and none too soon either. Music started to play with heavy bass thumping through the speakers on Rudy's phone and his voice came out in a halphazard parody of singing.
"♫ They see me mowin' my front lawn, I know they're all thinking I'm so white n' nerday. Think I'm just too white n' nerday. Think I'm just too white n' nerday. Can't you see I'm white n' nerday. Look at me I'm white n' nerday! ♪ " Quin stopped and blinked as Alex rose from his seat and offered words of farewell, clicking at his phone to halt the music.
"Dude, you guys're leaving? Seriously, I can sing this just as fast as Al can! You're gonna miss a great performance by yours truly!"
When he saw that neither Gwen nor Alex was convinced to stay and they made their way into the aisle, he shrugged and said, "Hey, your loss. Have fun. Say goodbye, Oz." He was busily typing at his phone as Gwen, Alex and then Ozzie passed him heading to the front of the bus. "Oz? Oh? We're getting off now?" Stumbling out of his seat, he eagerly made to follow her.
"I am," she said in a dismissive tone and Gwen sensed that her following them without asking to tag along had something to do with her forcibly "adopting" them earlier. She'd done this countless times, never making any friends from it but riding on people's natural decency and generosity and sense of obligation to her once they'd met Rudy. It was either that or she set one of her new "friends" on fire and slipped away from Rudy during the chaos, which Gwen still didn't understand how she did that.
"Well, then I am too!" Rudy said tagging along behind her down the aisle. "I gotta watch your back! ...Usually because you're walking away from me. But we gotta stick together! I'm like the Goa'uld from Stargate SG-1--"
Quin flinched as Osono turned abruptly and made like she was going to punch him, but stayed her hand as she realized they were surrounded by people. "Quit it," she said simply and with a final glare at him, she turned and continued to follow Gwen and Alex off of the bus.
"So, did I hear you say something about food, Ben? I put my vote in for Mexican!" like a dork, as soon as they stepped off of the bus, Rudy raised his hand and waved it as if he were a kid in school, looking eagerly between the three of them. Upon closer inspection however, Gwen got the hint that he was doing it to draw attention to himself for anybody who could be waiting. Searching the crowd, she probed all the minds of those present and none of them had a hint of recognition to the young man. Still as they proceeded down the sidewalk in the dark, passing beneath the occasional streetlamp, the tension did not leave Gwen. It was especially not comforting when she noticed that Osono had looked through the crowd for the exact same thing and only when she'd satisfied herself did she start looking for something big and explosive to set on fire.
Although it was her usual method of escaping both her "borrowed" company and Rudy, Gwen was not eager to be in the middle of such destructive elements. Ozzie didn't usually leave behind anything good, literally a trail of blood and tears. "Er, Mexican sounds good! How about you...Ozzie? Where do you want to eat?"
"Don't care," was the response, and Ozzie did not look away from her perusal of the area to address Gwen, much to her dismay. Luckily, she was distracted a moment later as she noticed Rudy texting on his phone again and she began to get angry again.
"♫ First in my class here at M.I.T.- Got skills, I'm a Champion of DND- MC Escher that's my favorite MC...♪" he murmured to himself in song. "So, we're getting enchiladas? My treat, by the way. If they got 'em, does anybody else wanna try those habaneros with me? I totally dare you guys."
Gwen could feel his fingers moving to type their location and asking where his "team" was and she grew frantic wanting to stop him but not knowing how. Suddenly she sensed that Osono wanted to just knock the damn thing out of his hands - apparently she knew that he wasn't talking to some clandestine girlfriend on the gadget.
You should. Gwen pulsed inside the woman's head without thinking about it first, a sort of fuzzy feeling coming over her. Realizing what she'd done, she almost felt worried that she'd be discovered but then keeping the connection with the other woman, she blinked in surprise as Ozzie took the thought as if it were her own and proceeded to act on it.
Stepping toward Rudy forcefully, she slapped his hand and said, "Enough sexting! You're not fooling anyone into thinking you actually have friends!"
Her hand slammed into his and his loosely held phone sprung into the air from between his fingers, spun once before plummeting to the pavement. At the same time as Osono stepped forward however, she nudged into Gwen roughly and caused her to trip. By the time the phone clattered to the sidewalk a foot from Rudy's shoes, gravity was tugging Gwen down, her knee smashing into the screen and keypad with all her weight resting on it. There was a soft plastic crinkling as she gained a semblance of balance and started to move off of it.
A feeling of pathological hatred came from Rudy, but by the time Gwen looked up at him, it was gone and he was just left staring down at her in mortification. "I'm sorry, Rudy," she said pathetically, playing up the sorrowful tone in her voice. She looked down at the crushed and cracked phone beneath her and shook her head weakly. "I'm so so sorry..."
You don't know what sorry is, heifer...but you will.
Gwen instantly looked back up at him at that thought that passed through his consciousness, but as she did, a tight-lipped smile came to his lips. "It's fine, Stacy. Don't worry about it. Shit happens." Allowing him to help her to her feet, she could feel Osono smirking to herself pleased with how that had turned out - she'd been planning to stomp on the thing anyways - and Gwen dusted herself off. As she approached Alex's side again, she watched as Rudy bent to pick the phone up gingerly and looked at it as if he'd actually lost someone inside it. After a few moments, his expression cleared and he was following them again, but he was no longer as chipper as he was before.
Turning to Alex, Gwen pulsed,
Heh, I think I made a friend. Nobodies here looking for her yet, and he's currently really sad that nobody knows where he is right now - I got it before he sent his message - so that should buy us a bit more time.
"You know, it's been a long day for us, so I think I just want to get something quick, like take-out. Sound good to everyone? I'm not in a sit-down kind of mood." Rudy remained quiet with his hands in his pockets and Osono smiled at that, feeling a lot more at ease with being around them.
"I'm game for any kind of meaty something. Burgers?" Ozzie put in and looked first at Gwen then to Alex for approval.
Despite the pressure still being on with three people around, Gwen was feeling a lot better as they made their way further and further from the bus station.
Her suspicious sniffing was brought to a halt however when Eric made the announcement about Jason's sudden demotion. Instantly, Stephanie's eyes skittered to the rear view mirror and she watched, while keeping a general eye on the road, as Jason's expression went from one of confusion, disbelief and then horror. Her heart began pounding wildly in her chest even as the car slowed to a more reasonable speed, and she was completely oblivious as all the people she'd almost crashed into before began passing her, throwing offensive gestures at her on their way by. She was completely wrapped up inside the car and operated the vehicle purely on auto-pilot.
When the stack of forms was passed into the backseat, she almost burst into a smile at the completely lost look on her partner's face, the expression instantly cut off at the A-1's offer to kill Jason instead. For a few seconds Stephanie's heart fluttered with excitement at the thought and possibility of Eric then transferring again - and into JASON no less! - but she grew sober at the idea of losing her toy. For the most part she returned to basking in Jason's misery as the first levels of what was happening to him were finally hitting home, each moment drenched in muscle twitches upon his face. She bit the inside of her lip to keep in a moan when she watched him realize he'd be losing his suit as well, the leather of the steering wheel creaking as her grip tightened to keep the emotions in as she beheld that barely hidden look of sorrow.
God, he was so fucking gorgeous right now. Empathy or pity was completely nonexistent inside her inner layers; there was nothing but pure unadulterated lust and desire. If only he were within reach! With a few well timed pinches and stabs with her fingernails, and a expertly aimed smack to the face, she could have gotten the tears to flow most definitely! The image of Jason blubbering helplessly or even screaming with rage excited her beyond belief and she had a bit of trouble focusing on the road as her vision began to swim. Good Lord! What was this man doing to her!?
There was a moment when her head cleared enough for her to feel a flash of protective anger when Eric bad-mouthed her partner, but upon rational consideration, she had to agree. She felt the same way. Jason had not turned out to be all that his rap sheet had played him up as and she realized she'd gotten to the point of not only expecting it but tolerating it. Which was why she hadn't thought to really punish him when he'd told her the reason he'd let the targets get away. She'd been...preoccupied anyway.
As the stack of papers was set beside her on the divider between the two seats, Stephanie's eyes couldn't help but leave the road, looking down at the still wet and sloppy signature. Even in the dim green lights she could see the shaky hand the letters were scrawled in, the absolute despair it articulated. It was a permanent scar upon his record and a statement of his submission to the authority of the higher ranked Agent. As forced as it had been, Jason had willingly put his name down on paper - like cutting off both of his arms and offering them up to the A-1 in a grand sacrifice to his will and dominance. It was a thing of beauty and something she wanted from Jason more than anything else he might be good for.
Even in the dashboard lights she could see the slight shine of moisture, her heart thundering in her ears and making everything else sound like it was coming to her through water. The hand on the inside of the car drifted from the steering wheel to lightly dab her slender middle finger upon the tail end of the last letter, coming away with a pinprick of dark liquid. Lifting it up, she looked at it and rubbed her thumb against it, smudging the wetness until it left a black stain upon her finger tip. Then she moved it to dip between her lips, her tongue touching upon the bitter stain to taste his glorious shame and humility.
"Mhn," she murmured in a soft, aroused grunt, before snapping to attention, her hand flying back to join the other on the wheel and righting it. Instantly, she stopped drifting into the left lane and was once again in her own, and she adjusted herself in her seat surreptitiously, realizing that she'd almost crashed them into somebody driving beside them. Clearing her throat, her voice wobbled just the tiniest bit before returning to her usual flat tone.
"J-jet? Well, we've just passed Mansfield a few minutes ago," realizing that she was going 10 under the speed limit, she started to reapply pressure on the gas pedal. "I hadn't planned on stopping until Hammondsport - it's 1/3 of the way there and seemed like good ground covered for the night. But I suppose we could fly if you want, sir..."
She trailed off into silence as she once again berated herself internally and desperately tried to reestablish the control she'd lost. What the fuck was going on inside her mind? It was becoming increasingly clear to her that whatever control she'd once had over every aspect of her personality, emotions and appearances was crumbling rapidly. But the worst part of this realization was that she was losing herself so deeply, she worried she wouldn't even be aware of it when she eventually lost her hold completely. Charlton. She just needed to hold out until Charlton. All of this wouldn't matter once she got inside Gwen's body. Then she would be free...
***
Hearing Alex mumble to her that they were getting off, she nodded slightly and felt a burst of comfort that he was handling things now. And even though Gwen was almost positive that Osono had Agents after her, Alex's thoughts about not letting her know that they were in the same boat seemed like a smart move. Although it did seem like a good idea to keep Ozzie with them - it always helped to have an extra set of powers under their belt especially if they were able to keep it a secret from the Agency. Just one more card up their sleeve. If Xander was planning on sitting this Charlton ride out, then they could use all the help they could get. No offense to Alex, but Xander really was like a superhero in berserker clothes.
And just like that, it was decided and none too soon either. Music started to play with heavy bass thumping through the speakers on Rudy's phone and his voice came out in a halphazard parody of singing.
"♫ They see me mowin' my front lawn, I know they're all thinking I'm so white n' nerday. Think I'm just too white n' nerday. Think I'm just too white n' nerday. Can't you see I'm white n' nerday. Look at me I'm white n' nerday! ♪ " Quin stopped and blinked as Alex rose from his seat and offered words of farewell, clicking at his phone to halt the music.
"Dude, you guys're leaving? Seriously, I can sing this just as fast as Al can! You're gonna miss a great performance by yours truly!"
When he saw that neither Gwen nor Alex was convinced to stay and they made their way into the aisle, he shrugged and said, "Hey, your loss. Have fun. Say goodbye, Oz." He was busily typing at his phone as Gwen, Alex and then Ozzie passed him heading to the front of the bus. "Oz? Oh? We're getting off now?" Stumbling out of his seat, he eagerly made to follow her.
"I am," she said in a dismissive tone and Gwen sensed that her following them without asking to tag along had something to do with her forcibly "adopting" them earlier. She'd done this countless times, never making any friends from it but riding on people's natural decency and generosity and sense of obligation to her once they'd met Rudy. It was either that or she set one of her new "friends" on fire and slipped away from Rudy during the chaos, which Gwen still didn't understand how she did that.
"Well, then I am too!" Rudy said tagging along behind her down the aisle. "I gotta watch your back! ...Usually because you're walking away from me. But we gotta stick together! I'm like the Goa'uld from Stargate SG-1--"
Quin flinched as Osono turned abruptly and made like she was going to punch him, but stayed her hand as she realized they were surrounded by people. "Quit it," she said simply and with a final glare at him, she turned and continued to follow Gwen and Alex off of the bus.
"So, did I hear you say something about food, Ben? I put my vote in for Mexican!" like a dork, as soon as they stepped off of the bus, Rudy raised his hand and waved it as if he were a kid in school, looking eagerly between the three of them. Upon closer inspection however, Gwen got the hint that he was doing it to draw attention to himself for anybody who could be waiting. Searching the crowd, she probed all the minds of those present and none of them had a hint of recognition to the young man. Still as they proceeded down the sidewalk in the dark, passing beneath the occasional streetlamp, the tension did not leave Gwen. It was especially not comforting when she noticed that Osono had looked through the crowd for the exact same thing and only when she'd satisfied herself did she start looking for something big and explosive to set on fire.
Although it was her usual method of escaping both her "borrowed" company and Rudy, Gwen was not eager to be in the middle of such destructive elements. Ozzie didn't usually leave behind anything good, literally a trail of blood and tears. "Er, Mexican sounds good! How about you...Ozzie? Where do you want to eat?"
"Don't care," was the response, and Ozzie did not look away from her perusal of the area to address Gwen, much to her dismay. Luckily, she was distracted a moment later as she noticed Rudy texting on his phone again and she began to get angry again.
"♫ First in my class here at M.I.T.- Got skills, I'm a Champion of DND- MC Escher that's my favorite MC...♪" he murmured to himself in song. "So, we're getting enchiladas? My treat, by the way. If they got 'em, does anybody else wanna try those habaneros with me? I totally dare you guys."
Gwen could feel his fingers moving to type their location and asking where his "team" was and she grew frantic wanting to stop him but not knowing how. Suddenly she sensed that Osono wanted to just knock the damn thing out of his hands - apparently she knew that he wasn't talking to some clandestine girlfriend on the gadget.
You should. Gwen pulsed inside the woman's head without thinking about it first, a sort of fuzzy feeling coming over her. Realizing what she'd done, she almost felt worried that she'd be discovered but then keeping the connection with the other woman, she blinked in surprise as Ozzie took the thought as if it were her own and proceeded to act on it.
Stepping toward Rudy forcefully, she slapped his hand and said, "Enough sexting! You're not fooling anyone into thinking you actually have friends!"
Her hand slammed into his and his loosely held phone sprung into the air from between his fingers, spun once before plummeting to the pavement. At the same time as Osono stepped forward however, she nudged into Gwen roughly and caused her to trip. By the time the phone clattered to the sidewalk a foot from Rudy's shoes, gravity was tugging Gwen down, her knee smashing into the screen and keypad with all her weight resting on it. There was a soft plastic crinkling as she gained a semblance of balance and started to move off of it.
A feeling of pathological hatred came from Rudy, but by the time Gwen looked up at him, it was gone and he was just left staring down at her in mortification. "I'm sorry, Rudy," she said pathetically, playing up the sorrowful tone in her voice. She looked down at the crushed and cracked phone beneath her and shook her head weakly. "I'm so so sorry..."
You don't know what sorry is, heifer...but you will.
Gwen instantly looked back up at him at that thought that passed through his consciousness, but as she did, a tight-lipped smile came to his lips. "It's fine, Stacy. Don't worry about it. Shit happens." Allowing him to help her to her feet, she could feel Osono smirking to herself pleased with how that had turned out - she'd been planning to stomp on the thing anyways - and Gwen dusted herself off. As she approached Alex's side again, she watched as Rudy bent to pick the phone up gingerly and looked at it as if he'd actually lost someone inside it. After a few moments, his expression cleared and he was following them again, but he was no longer as chipper as he was before.
Turning to Alex, Gwen pulsed,
Heh, I think I made a friend. Nobodies here looking for her yet, and he's currently really sad that nobody knows where he is right now - I got it before he sent his message - so that should buy us a bit more time.
"You know, it's been a long day for us, so I think I just want to get something quick, like take-out. Sound good to everyone? I'm not in a sit-down kind of mood." Rudy remained quiet with his hands in his pockets and Osono smiled at that, feeling a lot more at ease with being around them.
"I'm game for any kind of meaty something. Burgers?" Ozzie put in and looked first at Gwen then to Alex for approval.
Despite the pressure still being on with three people around, Gwen was feeling a lot better as they made their way further and further from the bus station.
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