The Other Kind of Roommate
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Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Sat Oct 30, 2010 8:10 am
Xander put his hand over the two coffees at her words, because that was what was in danger. Did he forget Osono controlled fire and had only just stopped thinking they were Agent friends of Rudy?
One minute, more or less. He could stall for that long. He hoped Osono didn’t get antsy in the meantime.
“Well... as far as babysitting went, you did a good job. My ears hurt a bit, but – uh... it wasn’t bad. And you might be onto something with it,” he said, trying to draw it out for as long as he could. The pressure was on with so many pissed off drivers stuck behind them. Some were passing and flipping them off, but he kept his head steady. He wasn’t frying anyone while they were driving, so his focus would stay on her, for now, until he found something better to look at. “If you ever decide to give up running around and want to set up a legitimate shop, there’s always kids.”
If Alex had kids, Osono’s daycare would be the last place he sent them.
Awkward silence. Not good. Hurry up, roomie.
Mm-hmm...
What was his solution going to be? To tell her? Xander couldn’t! The stage Alex had been trying to set was one that gave her as little information as possible. He’d had no choice but to offer his real name because he honestly wouldn’t be able to juggle fake ones around and the ‘Stacey’ screw up proved it, but letting her in on his powers? No. It couldn’t happen. It was for her sake as well as his and Gwen’s. If they got split up and the Agents captured Osono, he wouldn’t let her use his eyes as a way for them to identify who they were dealing with. He couldn’t take them by surprise and the time they’d have to prepare could spell his end, especially if they dragged her to one of their bases. This was assuming they took out her powers, but she’d said she’d had some limitations to what she could do. It wasn’t impossible to disable her. And anyway, his point stood: should the worst happen, the Agents couldn’t know he was coming, even if they could technically guess. Any advantage was crucial, so the truth about that off the table.
The voice in his head, though. That was trickier. Alex trusted Xander to lie his ass out of that one only because the guy never stuck his neck out farther than he could shield it. The reason Gwen knew was because Alex had told her. She wasn’t stupid and she’d obviously known something was up, but there would’ve been something he – alright, Xander – could’ve said to throw her off the trail. ‘Crazy’ wasn’t as easy an excuse to believe as people guessed. If he was ‘eccentric’ or ‘loopy’, maybe, but full on hearing voices? The plan had changed to include her and he couldn’t afford to drive her off or have her dump him at the nearest asylum and do who-the-hell-knew-what while Gwen was out there and in danger.
“Okay...” He’d said it nervously, trying to keep his voice low and lips still. “Any explanation now would be great...”
There was one car behind them that refused to go around. It stood there honking, leaning into the horn like it was choking. No mind frying, he reminded himself, and definitely not while she was waiting for him to prove her right.
“I told you before Gwen had a gift,” Xander said. “I told you she had ‘mental powers’ and that she could communicate through her mind. I wasn’t lying, but I wasn’t telling you the whole truth.”
Did he know where he was going with this?
Do I ever not?
Sometimes Alex wondered. Xander ignored him.
Things had changed. He could see his shoulders slumping as he sat lower in his chair. His head turned down and his hair cast a shadow on his face. In his hand was his latte, but instead of drinking it in victory, he turned it numbly between his palms. His entire body changed from jittery and crippled to quiet and still and mournful. When he spoke, his voice was low. Every word ended with a grey pause as if he didn’t trust himself to say what he had to. The noises around them faded while a calm flowed into the car. This was about Gwen now. A weight came over him as the name rose in his thoughts. Whatever Xander was doing, it’d set the mood of loss.
“Gwen’s... strong. The Agents have wanted her for years. She’s got a way of reaching out that’s...” He fumbled for a moment, trying to think of the proper sound. He gave up, then he shook his head. “There’s no word for it, but it kept her safe. There’re these defences around her that lash out at anything that’s not on her side. Or there were, but... she met me. It didn’t happen right away, but eventually she split her focus to make sure I was safe. She must’ve gotten so used to sharing that she couldn’t – or wouldn’t – take them back to fend Rudy off. That’s why he got her, Osono. You can guilt yourself whatever way you want, but in the end, this wasn’t your fault. She would’ve gotten away, but she’d... sacrificed herself to make sure I wasn’t hurt. You don’t have to be here if you can’t trust me. It’s not your fight. ‘You’re free’, if you want to put it that way, but... I have to do this. I can’t let her get hurt more than I already have and I can’t let her go through... everything else...”
He was scratching the side of cup’s cover. A tiny tear had opened up at its edge. He watched it, gathering his thoughts, then slowly picked his words and pressed on.
“What you saw at Starbucks was that shared defence. She couldn’t explain it to me because it’s a part of her, but I think what it does is go through the minds of everyone around her – and now me. It looks for anything hostile and... well – you saw. It’s normally never just attacked like that, but wherever she is, it’s not close enough to keep it on a leash. I think right now it’s going off of what I feel isn’t right. I kind of... wanted someone’s coffee... and whatever that woman was thinking to keep me away from it must’ve set the defence off. Yes, I took it, and I shouldn’t have and it was wrong, but... now you know what let me. And now I know I have to keep it contained.”
How?
... You do realize I’m making this up, right?
... Yes.
Sure.
“You don’t have to worry about it. I want it to do that. I mean – I don’t want anyone hurt, but at least this way I know she’s alive. That’s more than I can ask for and it’s all I have right now. When we get to Charlton, maybe we’ll find more, but until then – just... try to put up with it.” And the voice? “As for who I’m talking to... You’re right. It’s Gwen.” He breathed out sharply and cut Osono off in case she was trying to say anything. She might not have been, but it seemed to fit anyway. “It’s not Gwen Gwen. It’s not... no. I haven’t heard from her since she was taken, but a few months after we met, I got separated from her. Agents. Lots of them. She got me out, but I’d been hysterical. She made me a small copy of herself and left it in my memories. It’s not like it says anything useful but, like the mind defence, it’s keeping me relaxed. And if the worst should happen...” The cup’s cover split. “At least that one won’t leave me.”
Got a pass to use my powers, got a reason for finding the base, got me covered... Did I miss anything?
“No.” Alex turned his head away and kept it to the window. “I think you got it all.”
Greaaaat! ... You gonna drink that?
Alex sipped the stupid thing. Even if Xander was the one tasting it, it felt bitter on his tongue. Gwen was hours away from being dragged to her death and they had no way of getting to her. They needed to be at those addresses and make sure she was safe. He knew she’d be doing something to get away. He could only hope it worked. No matter what happened, he had to get into the Charlton base, but learning she’d escaped and gone to... wherever – gone to Russia – would be the one thing that’d made this less than a total disaster.
She’d be okay. It was impossible for her not to be okay. She’d called to them, hadn’t she? Then alright. She was fighting.
She’s probably kickin’ his ass as we speak. Alex couldn’t help snorting. We’ll find her when we get to Charlton. I’m not worried about it.
Yeah... Yeah, Alex wasn’t worried either.
See? It’s fine. Now – can we get the fuck back to driving?
“Yeah. Osono – can you...” He gestured to the wheel. “If you’re satisfied with that answer...”
And that’d been a decent answer.
‘Decent’? S’fucking rock star answer, man.
“Was it real? The parts that weren’t...” In case Osono had the same sharp ears as Gwen, he stayed away from finishing that sentence. He didn’t her getting the wrong answer. “Was it?”
Stop asking me that. I’m an Agent. Ex-Agent, as Xander was all too quick to remind them. Ha, ha. Adorable. Where’s my coffee?
“The GPS says the first address is five minutes away. This place looks a bit empty, though.”
We’ll see when we get there. ‘Course, it’d be nice if we started moving...
Alex was sure the other drivers would appreciate it, too. He was glad he had some reign to use his eyes again, because if that asshole came up here, he’d get nothing but a face full of seizure.
This should’ve been worse than it felt. Here he was, in a limousine with his boss, sitting up but still so close to her, and she was crying before him. He should’ve been panicking and running to get help. Agents weren’t supposed to have emotions and someone like her, someone who’d gone out of her way to purge herself of humanity, was at negative that. She’d let parts of herself slip every now and again, but there’d been such control over everything she said. On the plane, there’d been tears there, too. Jason hadn’t trusted them in the slightest. Now... it wasn’t ‘trust’ exactly. It was more like a very strong benefit of the doubt.
He had to handle this. Somehow. He also had to keep in mind that she could kill him in less time than it’d take to blink. This would be amazingly more simple if he wasn’t shaking the addict that he tried not to be.
“Don’t –” Shit. He couldn’t think. “Don’t worry about the forms. I should see this out. It’s better if I stay.”
What a flawless answer. It was almost textbook perfect. Any A-3 would’ve been proud to have heard something so crisp and dedicated. She, however, didn’t look any better.
This case had taken its toll on her, too. There’d been a factory-fresh feeling of cleanliness when she’d first arrived. Over time, she’d lost that. He should’ve noticed earlier, but it was likely a part of him staying close to his usual way of business: do not comment on anything surrounding superior Agents. He’d blinded himself and that stunt with the goggles had ruined him for a full day. The thought of his reputation went through his mind and immediately took hold of him, but the warmth of her slowly brought him back to what was happening now.
“Look – boss –” Formal. Formal. The world wasn’t completely in focus yet – if it’d ever be again – and he couldn’t afford to say something stupid on top of everything. “This is your case. This has always been your case. What’s been happening between...” Don’t say ‘us’. Do not say ‘us’. “... you and I... It’s been very, very unorthodox, but it’s something I have to accept. Just... because. I’m on this case to help you, not the other way around. I’m here to get you what you need, and if that’s our target, the girl you’ve been training to transfer into, then I’ll do that. It’s what you want – what you’ve earned. Nobody deserves it more than you.”
He could do better. He was here and he was out of any watchful eyes. He could put his hands on her face, run his fingers along her jaw, touch down to her neck and across her collarbone, and that would’ve still been within what the Agency called appropriate. ... He couldn’t get away from that. Everything always came back to what they thought and what they wanted. They were taking away his suit but he still gave in to their every rule. What about his rules?
The box was there. Inside was everything ‘someone like him’ needed. It seemed ironic that the first time he’d genuinely considering going for them was when he was about to lose the thing he would’ve actually needed them for.
“I can’t –” use them. He couldn’t use them. It went against everything he stood for, everything he’d worked for, and he’d built an entire life around the pride he’d felt at turning them away. “I can’t use these yet. Not now.” He was light-headed and his cheeks were cold. If he could’ve torn his eyes away from hers for the moment he needed to, he might’ve tried shaking his head and getting some blood back through them. “But I can’t rule them out. I’ve never failed anything like this. If I can’t handle it, I’ll have no choice.”
His hand went out to hers to accept the small carton. Instinctively, his fingers destroyed any risk of touching her. It wasn’t as though it would’ve mattered anyway, not with the gloves he was pointlessly wearing, but a thin line of pain cut through the middle of him. He was pretty hopeless, in case anyone wanted his opinion. They wouldn’t since he’d been demoted, but it was there if anyone asked. Eric might. He seemed to be on the level.
Oh, shit. Eric. Benoit. Where were they?
Ah, so there was the panic.
“If they’re upstairs we – uh – we have to go up there, too.”
He was walking whether he could or not. Placing his fists firmly on the cushion, not on her, he forced his feet off of the seats and onto the floor of the limousine. He took a break. The sickness started up. Acid burned at the bottom of his throat and his eyes seared from being open. He should pass out again. It’d been his first real vacation from this mess of a mission since it’d started and he was almost annoyed that he’d been woken out of it. He was even more annoyed by how willingly he was trying to jump back into the thick of it.
But... one more thing...
“I’m going to be staying until the end,” he said. “My reasons for it have changed slightly, but it doesn’t matter as long as the end result’s the same. I’m not going anywhere, boss. If you aren’t getting rid of me, then I guess I’ll just have to chase you.” His gaze had been on his feet while he’d kept the sickness down. He lifted it to meet her eyes. “You are not going to break on me. So long as I’m here, you have me, and you are not going to lose everything you’ve worked for just because things got out of control.”
He wouldn’t let her. That was a promise.
One minute, more or less. He could stall for that long. He hoped Osono didn’t get antsy in the meantime.
“Well... as far as babysitting went, you did a good job. My ears hurt a bit, but – uh... it wasn’t bad. And you might be onto something with it,” he said, trying to draw it out for as long as he could. The pressure was on with so many pissed off drivers stuck behind them. Some were passing and flipping them off, but he kept his head steady. He wasn’t frying anyone while they were driving, so his focus would stay on her, for now, until he found something better to look at. “If you ever decide to give up running around and want to set up a legitimate shop, there’s always kids.”
If Alex had kids, Osono’s daycare would be the last place he sent them.
Awkward silence. Not good. Hurry up, roomie.
Mm-hmm...
What was his solution going to be? To tell her? Xander couldn’t! The stage Alex had been trying to set was one that gave her as little information as possible. He’d had no choice but to offer his real name because he honestly wouldn’t be able to juggle fake ones around and the ‘Stacey’ screw up proved it, but letting her in on his powers? No. It couldn’t happen. It was for her sake as well as his and Gwen’s. If they got split up and the Agents captured Osono, he wouldn’t let her use his eyes as a way for them to identify who they were dealing with. He couldn’t take them by surprise and the time they’d have to prepare could spell his end, especially if they dragged her to one of their bases. This was assuming they took out her powers, but she’d said she’d had some limitations to what she could do. It wasn’t impossible to disable her. And anyway, his point stood: should the worst happen, the Agents couldn’t know he was coming, even if they could technically guess. Any advantage was crucial, so the truth about that off the table.
The voice in his head, though. That was trickier. Alex trusted Xander to lie his ass out of that one only because the guy never stuck his neck out farther than he could shield it. The reason Gwen knew was because Alex had told her. She wasn’t stupid and she’d obviously known something was up, but there would’ve been something he – alright, Xander – could’ve said to throw her off the trail. ‘Crazy’ wasn’t as easy an excuse to believe as people guessed. If he was ‘eccentric’ or ‘loopy’, maybe, but full on hearing voices? The plan had changed to include her and he couldn’t afford to drive her off or have her dump him at the nearest asylum and do who-the-hell-knew-what while Gwen was out there and in danger.
“Okay...” He’d said it nervously, trying to keep his voice low and lips still. “Any explanation now would be great...”
There was one car behind them that refused to go around. It stood there honking, leaning into the horn like it was choking. No mind frying, he reminded himself, and definitely not while she was waiting for him to prove her right.
“I told you before Gwen had a gift,” Xander said. “I told you she had ‘mental powers’ and that she could communicate through her mind. I wasn’t lying, but I wasn’t telling you the whole truth.”
Did he know where he was going with this?
Do I ever not?
Sometimes Alex wondered. Xander ignored him.
Things had changed. He could see his shoulders slumping as he sat lower in his chair. His head turned down and his hair cast a shadow on his face. In his hand was his latte, but instead of drinking it in victory, he turned it numbly between his palms. His entire body changed from jittery and crippled to quiet and still and mournful. When he spoke, his voice was low. Every word ended with a grey pause as if he didn’t trust himself to say what he had to. The noises around them faded while a calm flowed into the car. This was about Gwen now. A weight came over him as the name rose in his thoughts. Whatever Xander was doing, it’d set the mood of loss.
“Gwen’s... strong. The Agents have wanted her for years. She’s got a way of reaching out that’s...” He fumbled for a moment, trying to think of the proper sound. He gave up, then he shook his head. “There’s no word for it, but it kept her safe. There’re these defences around her that lash out at anything that’s not on her side. Or there were, but... she met me. It didn’t happen right away, but eventually she split her focus to make sure I was safe. She must’ve gotten so used to sharing that she couldn’t – or wouldn’t – take them back to fend Rudy off. That’s why he got her, Osono. You can guilt yourself whatever way you want, but in the end, this wasn’t your fault. She would’ve gotten away, but she’d... sacrificed herself to make sure I wasn’t hurt. You don’t have to be here if you can’t trust me. It’s not your fight. ‘You’re free’, if you want to put it that way, but... I have to do this. I can’t let her get hurt more than I already have and I can’t let her go through... everything else...”
He was scratching the side of cup’s cover. A tiny tear had opened up at its edge. He watched it, gathering his thoughts, then slowly picked his words and pressed on.
“What you saw at Starbucks was that shared defence. She couldn’t explain it to me because it’s a part of her, but I think what it does is go through the minds of everyone around her – and now me. It looks for anything hostile and... well – you saw. It’s normally never just attacked like that, but wherever she is, it’s not close enough to keep it on a leash. I think right now it’s going off of what I feel isn’t right. I kind of... wanted someone’s coffee... and whatever that woman was thinking to keep me away from it must’ve set the defence off. Yes, I took it, and I shouldn’t have and it was wrong, but... now you know what let me. And now I know I have to keep it contained.”
How?
... You do realize I’m making this up, right?
... Yes.
Sure.
“You don’t have to worry about it. I want it to do that. I mean – I don’t want anyone hurt, but at least this way I know she’s alive. That’s more than I can ask for and it’s all I have right now. When we get to Charlton, maybe we’ll find more, but until then – just... try to put up with it.” And the voice? “As for who I’m talking to... You’re right. It’s Gwen.” He breathed out sharply and cut Osono off in case she was trying to say anything. She might not have been, but it seemed to fit anyway. “It’s not Gwen Gwen. It’s not... no. I haven’t heard from her since she was taken, but a few months after we met, I got separated from her. Agents. Lots of them. She got me out, but I’d been hysterical. She made me a small copy of herself and left it in my memories. It’s not like it says anything useful but, like the mind defence, it’s keeping me relaxed. And if the worst should happen...” The cup’s cover split. “At least that one won’t leave me.”
Got a pass to use my powers, got a reason for finding the base, got me covered... Did I miss anything?
“No.” Alex turned his head away and kept it to the window. “I think you got it all.”
Greaaaat! ... You gonna drink that?
Alex sipped the stupid thing. Even if Xander was the one tasting it, it felt bitter on his tongue. Gwen was hours away from being dragged to her death and they had no way of getting to her. They needed to be at those addresses and make sure she was safe. He knew she’d be doing something to get away. He could only hope it worked. No matter what happened, he had to get into the Charlton base, but learning she’d escaped and gone to... wherever – gone to Russia – would be the one thing that’d made this less than a total disaster.
She’d be okay. It was impossible for her not to be okay. She’d called to them, hadn’t she? Then alright. She was fighting.
She’s probably kickin’ his ass as we speak. Alex couldn’t help snorting. We’ll find her when we get to Charlton. I’m not worried about it.
Yeah... Yeah, Alex wasn’t worried either.
See? It’s fine. Now – can we get the fuck back to driving?
“Yeah. Osono – can you...” He gestured to the wheel. “If you’re satisfied with that answer...”
And that’d been a decent answer.
‘Decent’? S’fucking rock star answer, man.
“Was it real? The parts that weren’t...” In case Osono had the same sharp ears as Gwen, he stayed away from finishing that sentence. He didn’t her getting the wrong answer. “Was it?”
Stop asking me that. I’m an Agent. Ex-Agent, as Xander was all too quick to remind them. Ha, ha. Adorable. Where’s my coffee?
“The GPS says the first address is five minutes away. This place looks a bit empty, though.”
We’ll see when we get there. ‘Course, it’d be nice if we started moving...
Alex was sure the other drivers would appreciate it, too. He was glad he had some reign to use his eyes again, because if that asshole came up here, he’d get nothing but a face full of seizure.
* * *
This should’ve been worse than it felt. Here he was, in a limousine with his boss, sitting up but still so close to her, and she was crying before him. He should’ve been panicking and running to get help. Agents weren’t supposed to have emotions and someone like her, someone who’d gone out of her way to purge herself of humanity, was at negative that. She’d let parts of herself slip every now and again, but there’d been such control over everything she said. On the plane, there’d been tears there, too. Jason hadn’t trusted them in the slightest. Now... it wasn’t ‘trust’ exactly. It was more like a very strong benefit of the doubt.
He had to handle this. Somehow. He also had to keep in mind that she could kill him in less time than it’d take to blink. This would be amazingly more simple if he wasn’t shaking the addict that he tried not to be.
“Don’t –” Shit. He couldn’t think. “Don’t worry about the forms. I should see this out. It’s better if I stay.”
What a flawless answer. It was almost textbook perfect. Any A-3 would’ve been proud to have heard something so crisp and dedicated. She, however, didn’t look any better.
This case had taken its toll on her, too. There’d been a factory-fresh feeling of cleanliness when she’d first arrived. Over time, she’d lost that. He should’ve noticed earlier, but it was likely a part of him staying close to his usual way of business: do not comment on anything surrounding superior Agents. He’d blinded himself and that stunt with the goggles had ruined him for a full day. The thought of his reputation went through his mind and immediately took hold of him, but the warmth of her slowly brought him back to what was happening now.
“Look – boss –” Formal. Formal. The world wasn’t completely in focus yet – if it’d ever be again – and he couldn’t afford to say something stupid on top of everything. “This is your case. This has always been your case. What’s been happening between...” Don’t say ‘us’. Do not say ‘us’. “... you and I... It’s been very, very unorthodox, but it’s something I have to accept. Just... because. I’m on this case to help you, not the other way around. I’m here to get you what you need, and if that’s our target, the girl you’ve been training to transfer into, then I’ll do that. It’s what you want – what you’ve earned. Nobody deserves it more than you.”
He could do better. He was here and he was out of any watchful eyes. He could put his hands on her face, run his fingers along her jaw, touch down to her neck and across her collarbone, and that would’ve still been within what the Agency called appropriate. ... He couldn’t get away from that. Everything always came back to what they thought and what they wanted. They were taking away his suit but he still gave in to their every rule. What about his rules?
The box was there. Inside was everything ‘someone like him’ needed. It seemed ironic that the first time he’d genuinely considering going for them was when he was about to lose the thing he would’ve actually needed them for.
“I can’t –” use them. He couldn’t use them. It went against everything he stood for, everything he’d worked for, and he’d built an entire life around the pride he’d felt at turning them away. “I can’t use these yet. Not now.” He was light-headed and his cheeks were cold. If he could’ve torn his eyes away from hers for the moment he needed to, he might’ve tried shaking his head and getting some blood back through them. “But I can’t rule them out. I’ve never failed anything like this. If I can’t handle it, I’ll have no choice.”
His hand went out to hers to accept the small carton. Instinctively, his fingers destroyed any risk of touching her. It wasn’t as though it would’ve mattered anyway, not with the gloves he was pointlessly wearing, but a thin line of pain cut through the middle of him. He was pretty hopeless, in case anyone wanted his opinion. They wouldn’t since he’d been demoted, but it was there if anyone asked. Eric might. He seemed to be on the level.
Oh, shit. Eric. Benoit. Where were they?
Ah, so there was the panic.
“If they’re upstairs we – uh – we have to go up there, too.”
He was walking whether he could or not. Placing his fists firmly on the cushion, not on her, he forced his feet off of the seats and onto the floor of the limousine. He took a break. The sickness started up. Acid burned at the bottom of his throat and his eyes seared from being open. He should pass out again. It’d been his first real vacation from this mess of a mission since it’d started and he was almost annoyed that he’d been woken out of it. He was even more annoyed by how willingly he was trying to jump back into the thick of it.
But... one more thing...
“I’m going to be staying until the end,” he said. “My reasons for it have changed slightly, but it doesn’t matter as long as the end result’s the same. I’m not going anywhere, boss. If you aren’t getting rid of me, then I guess I’ll just have to chase you.” His gaze had been on his feet while he’d kept the sickness down. He lifted it to meet her eyes. “You are not going to break on me. So long as I’m here, you have me, and you are not going to lose everything you’ve worked for just because things got out of control.”
He wouldn’t let her. That was a promise.
Last edited by Tartra on Sun May 01, 2011 2:18 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 Sat Oct 30, 2010 4:11 pm
What was wrong with today? Why did everything seem like it was going from bad to worse the closer he got to his destination? Even with as troublesome and violent as Osono had been, he'd never gone through this much Hell while pursuing her. Then again, there was that little crush she had on him that kept her from hurting him too much, and there had always been a wide buffer of bodies between him and her that allowed her to take out her violent tendencies without coming close to touching him. And of course, Ozzie still didn't know he was an Agent.
Maybe that was it. He was operating out in the open now not hiding who he was and it suddenly made him a target for every bad thing that could ever happen to a person. Thinking back, there really hadn't been a moment for him to switch gears and suddenly become "Not-Agent" and it was certainly too late to play that card now. But fuck, if he just wanted some peace... There was no sense crying about it now, especially with a gun in his face. Alright, the best way to deal with this was like everything else: make the guy think he was a harmless idiot and then stab him when his back was turned. Well, shoot him, anyways.
"You know...this vaguely reminds me of that one Stephen King movie," Rudy started, glancing from Gwen and back to the cop, but not making a move to leave the car. "You know, the one miniseries where the cop is pulling over people on that highway and takes them to that town to kill them. And you kind of look a little like Ron Perlman--"
"Sir, do not make me ask again. Get out of your car now."
Gwen looked from the cop to Rudy and back again, and having an internal look inside the officer's head, she realized that whatever game Rudy was playing was not going to work on this guy. Again, she tried to nudge the thought that he should let them go, but it was past that point now. Even if Rudy wasn't the guy the report was about, there was enough probable cause for the officer to be suspicious that something was going on and he'd already seen Gwen in restraints.
"Look, I know it may seem weird, but we're into a little sadomasochism and bondage," Rudy said, trying again, holding up his hand a little to try and calm the cop down. "See, she just got done givin' it to me good and now we've switched places and it's her turn--"
"Get out of the car now," Officer Frewer was no longer waiting for Rudy to listen to him, but reaching forward and opening Rudy's door, the gun still fixed on the Agent.
"Alright...alright..." Rudy said in defeat, slowly stepping from the open door with his hands raised. Outwardly, he was fearful and seemed eager to please the man with the gun trained on him, but inwardly, he was cool and collected as ever, waiting for the right opportunity. Forced to his knees and then face-down on the pavement, Rudy did as he was told and laid there as the police officer stepped forward to address Gwen.
"Miss, are you alright? Are you injured?" Officer Frewer asked her through the still open driver's side door, giving her a quick glance but keeping his eyes and gun fixated on Rudy. When she didn't answer him, he looked at her and realized she'd been shaking her head "no" that she wasn't hurt. Probably in too much shock to answer him verbally.
And truthfully, Gwen was in shock. Was this it? Was it over? Had Rudy finally been defeated? Was she free? It was hard to tell because she couldn't feel anything from Rudy except his physical senses - which was mainly a lot of bruising and sharp pain in his face - so he was still probably willing to fight...but she didn't see how this could go wrong. She knew Rudy had put the gun he carried back into his pocket before they'd left the diner, but with him splayed out on the ground, if he made one move for it, the cop would not stop to ask what he was doing before shooting him. It was okay, although she was a little worried that the officer wasn't searching Rudy or cuffing him, she reasoned that he probably didn't want to get too close while he was still alone. And she knew he'd already called for backup.
"It's alright, miss. Everything's going to be okay now. Help is on the way. Can you get out of the car?" It was somewhat a relief to be around someone from the real-world again, a cop asking her normal questions and seeking after her well-being. It felt a bit odd that someone who had no clue about the Agents or people with abilities was trying to calm her down. It was even stranger that the worst was practically stopped in it's tracks by this untrained nobody.
But a little too late she started to get nervous about him continuing to look at her. He was just doing his job and she supposed she should have answered him, instead of gaping like a fish, because now he was trying to make eye contact to reassure her and make her feel safe. She could feel Rudy reaching into his pocket in the seconds while Frewer was addressing her and her eyes went wide sending him a sharp signal inside his head.
He has a GUN!
Officer Frewer did not wait for the thought to set in, his heart already jumping back up to rapid speeds as he turned to look back at Rudy. Quin was just rolling over onto his side, a technological mass of metal bits and pieces enveloping his hand and pointing up at the officer before Frewer pulled the trigger, automatically aiming for the chest area. Because of the angle that Rudy was lying on the ground, the bullet went straight through his right shoulder causing him to grunt harshly at the impact. Then in the seconds waiting for the impact to tremble through his shoulder and arm, Rudy pulled his own trigger.
Gwen cried out in surprise as Officer Frewer flew back against the car door violently in a flash of light that was becoming all too familiar to her, his body slamming into the metal like a limp rag doll. Then he slumped against it, eyes blank and arm with pistol still attached to his wrist hanging at an odd angle inside the car, the smell of gunpowder hanging crisp in the air.
For the longest time, Gwen sat frozen watching the opening between the car door and Officer Frewer's corpse, unable to move and unable to look away. Even though he was only a few feet from her, Rudy had gone off of her radar again and she couldn't tell if it was because he was dead or if he was just hiding like he'd done before. It was several minutes later when she heard the distant sound of sirens, that she was able to finally shake herself out of it and started to try and move in her seat.
A second later a sharp scream left her lips as Rudy's bloodied hand and body appeared in the doorway, dragging himself up to a kneeling position beside Officer Frewer's body. Pulling at the corpse until it fell over, Rudy shoved it away in irritation before pulling himself back up into his seat, cringing and hissing in pain as his right arm moved to help his ascent weakly. Probing his body, she could feel that the gun wound went all the way through his shoulder, but it didn't seem like it had hit anything major. Still, it was bleeding a lot and she wondered if it would be safe for him to drive like that. But he seemed to ignore the wound in favor of looking out the back window to see how close the cop's "backup" was before turning to close his door and start the engine back up.
As they peeled away from the shoulder of the road, still no sign of the cop's friends but hearing their distant wails, Rudy kept an eye on the rearview and let out a labored sigh. "Well, that went a lot better than I hoped," he said somewhat pleasantly. When Gwen gave him an incredulous look, he glanced at her and said defensively, "No, I mean, in that movie, that cop killed a lot of people before the main guys could get away. We got off pretty easy with what I was worried about. Which reminds me; you don't feel 'possessed' do you?" When she gave him an annoyed look, he grinned before looking into the rearview again. "Just checking."
When he opened his mouth she found herself caught off guard briefly when he went off on a brief tangent about how she'd been with the kids. It made her blush a little to remember how it'd felt to be in charge of those brats - kids she didn't even know, but it felt the same as it always had. And what he said about having a daycare center reminded her even more of a conversation she'd had with someone long ago about that very thing. So, for a few moments instead of jumping on his case about changing the subject again, she sat trying to collect herself enough to still be angry about it. By the time she was ready to explode on his stupid ass again, he was talking and the words coming out of his mouth were exactly what she wanted to hear.
One thing she immediately zeroed in on was the whole change in Alex's demeanor, becoming almost melancholy and somber as he spoke, thoughtful and stepping over his words carefully. It no longer felt like he was trying to hide something from her though, but as if he were grappling with information that was painful to part with. That grabbed her attention immediately, more than the actual words themselves and she found her own anger dissolving on a cloud as he continued.
Osono quickly found her mental image of Gwen shifting and evolving as Alex spoke. Remembering that sweet young woman who'd almost been timid in response to Ozzie's teasing, but at the same time strong and passionate when talking with Alex. After Gwen had been taken, Ozzie had started to see her as a victim, as a sort of damsel in distress and had included herself as one of the metaphorical 'knights' on a quest to rescue her. But now...with what Alex was saying about Gwen's powers, although Gwen still seemed vulnerable, she'd raised herself up to an almost 'Jesus' and 'warrior' status herself.
Sacrificing herself, even when she knew she was in danger just so that Alex wouldn't get hurt. And apparently, she was still sacrificing her power to help keep him safe. The romance between these two would almost be vomit worthy if..it wasn't so real and passionate. Here he was, uninvolved in the big picture except with his association with his girlfriend. Nobody after him, nobody threatening him and he was risking everything to help get her free. And then there was Gwen, who probably knew, even now where ever she was, that he wouldn't give up and would keep putting himself in danger and she weakened herself deliberately to protect him, when she probably could use that power for herself more than he could. The situation was all sorts of fucked up but a beautiful romance, even she had to admit. And she normally hated this mushy bullshit.
And then he further explained about Gwen making a copy of herself and putting it in his head and Ozzie relaxed even more, even though that bit of it confused her just a little. It was extremely complicated but it seemed too out there to not be true. And she did make a mental note of him practically destroying his coffee cup all while talking about this and she took it along with his words to mean he was going through some sort of emotional turmoil discussing these things. And Ozzie had to admit, these were the first other people who knew about the Agency that she'd met, so she really didn't know what the rules were as far as who had powers and how they worked. But Alex's explanation of things seemed to work and she couldn't ignore that emotion. It was his version of Gwen's googly eyes and you just couldn't fake that.
When he ushered her to start driving again, she did so without a fuss, waiting for another car to make it's pass around her before being able to move forward. As she pulled out and continued down the street, with a small shake of her head she murmured, "You two are so freaking Metal, I swear."
Other than that, she didn't really know what to say. He was dealing with whatever in his own way and she didn't feel comfortable putting her hand on his shoulder and telling him 'everything's gonna be a'ight.' But she wasn't feeling like her normal self enough to just slap him and tell him 'suck it up, pussy!' So, she left it at 'Metal' and that's all she wanted to say about that. She'd gotten what she wanted and she was happy not to hate him so much anymore. Right now, at least.
Driving along, she tried to keep silent but really she couldn't help returning to the things he'd said. Especially when he'd basically told her she could leave if she wanted to, but that saving Gwen was something he had to do. "You love her a lot, huh?" she asked with a wry twist of her lips. "If it's NOT love with everything you've got to lose, not being involved or anything, it doesn't make sense for you to keep risking it all just to save her when you know they'll be crawling up your ass the day after it's done. You said so yourself, they won't stop throwing guys at you until something breaks.
"And thanks for your permission and all, and don't get me wrong, I'm sure your Gwen power-up is as awesome as it sounds - and if the woman at Starbucks is any indication of how badass it is. But I have my doubts about how far you'll get without me, Sir Limpsalot. No offense or nothing." She cast him a grin and looked down at his leg but said nothing about it as she continued driving.
"And I'm not just feeling guilty - I don't know if you noticed or anything but I don't form attachments to people very good. I hurt everybody Alex, and I burn everything I touch. Not only that but I like doing it. I'm not a very good person and most everybody I come into contact with can either sense it or they feel sick from Rudy when he comes trudging up with his 'lost puppy' thing. Gwen didn't. Or maybe she did but she saw something in me I don't normally show.
"But... this is gonna sound stupid, because I only just met her yesterday and we were only together for a little while and I know it sounds crazy... but she's my friend. I don't know... maybe she's affected me too, but I don't want to give up on her now. The one person who didn't immediately flinch when I put my arm around her and who in the midst of everything that was going wrong said my name like she wanted to save my life or something. That guy in the restaurant shot at us and as soon as he was dead, she thought of me. I don't have that with anybody else...and I haven't in a really...really long time. I'm gonna see this to the end and I'm not stopping until she's safe and back in your arms. I'll burn every-fucking-body if I have to."
Despite the serious tone of her conversation, Ozzie tried to brush it off and put on the tough-girl act. She figured, if he could take a moment to be all sentimental then she could do it too but she wasn't going to get mopey or emo about it. They were nearing the destination and she took out her pack of cigarette's before realizing it was empty, then crushing and tossing it out the window, letting out a harsh breath through her lips.
"So, this place, it's just an office building right? And you don't know if there's going to be Agents or anything? Do you...want me to drive around the block first or should I just pull right up front?" Her hands tapped lightly on the steering wheel and the car filled with a crisping heat as she got ready for battle. It was nowhere near as intense as it had been in the hotel room and she had more than enough control right now that it was not possible for any fire to be around without her expressed permission. But her excitement to start something could clearly be felt pulsing heavily in the air, even as her body tensed energetically.
Stephanie felt like such a mess as she became more and more aware of the situation she'd placed herself in. He wasn't going to die and he wasn't going to leave her - she'd already made that decision for him on the plane - so really her crying about whether he should take the drugs or not seemed all of a sudden really pathetic. But she could not deny the way it had felt just then... the weight on her heart to hold him in her lap and wondering blindly what she was expected to do. The thought of continuing this mission without him - whether because he was going to leave or fall dead on her - scared her. And that had been mostly what she'd been crying about. If she forced the drugs on him, he might hate her for ruining everything he'd created in himself, but if she didn't...she didn't know what the suit would do to him in it's sudden absence.
She was done crying about it now though, since she knew that wasn't what he needed to help him. She needed to stay strong and levelheaded if not for him then at least for her case - which, she'd almost completely forgotten about yet again, with her focus completely turned onto him. From now on, she'd just make sure to make herself available to him, something she hadn't been before, in place of playing and pulling at him like a toy.
And she understood and respected him about his decision regarding the drugs. But she would decide when she felt he'd had enough. From the way he was looking now, and the toll withdrawal took on a body, she was not going to wait for him to lie writhing on the floor in a mess before she stepped in to help him. She couldn't and it would be a failing in her duty as his superior. Other Lead Agents were willing to throw away the men and women on their team as mere numbers when it came to their cases. Jason was all she had left and she couldn't just break herself off emotionally like that. Not from him.
The last things he said to her as he sat on the seat trying to gather himself really hit everything home for her and when their eyes met hers shined with a vibrant inner light. So forceful... there was a hint of that passion deep inside and she could see it there. He may have hesitated to make any physical contact with her but she needed to touch him then. She needed to feel that strength pulsing within him and to let herself know he was going to be alright.
Siddling close to him on the seat, her arm reached around his back to tuck into his waist, pulling him flush against her with their sides touching and laid her head on his shoulder, golden locks falling over his upper arm. "Unorthodox is a good way to describe it and I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm glad I chose you and I know no matter what happens, I will not regret the decision I made in signing you on."
She tossed her hair out of the way to look up at him, nuzzling close to his still bared neck. "I only hope that I can be something you won't regret..." her voice took on the hint of a sultry tone as she brushed her lips against all the skin she could touch.
Finally, having had her fill, Stephanie drew back to look him over, and her hand drifted up to touch the marks on his neck, a smile of pride forming on her lips. "Those look really good on you," she said fondly. Feeling the sudden urge to do so, she leaned forward and licked up his neck to just under his chin, delighting in the small shiver it produced in him.
Then she was pulling away and standing, half-bent over to open the side door of the limo. "Benoit is probably having a fit right now, being alone with the Master for this long. Are you alright to go or do you want to sit for a little longer?" The obvious suggestion in her flirtatious glance over her shoulder was that she'd "keep him company" while he did.
Maybe that was it. He was operating out in the open now not hiding who he was and it suddenly made him a target for every bad thing that could ever happen to a person. Thinking back, there really hadn't been a moment for him to switch gears and suddenly become "Not-Agent" and it was certainly too late to play that card now. But fuck, if he just wanted some peace... There was no sense crying about it now, especially with a gun in his face. Alright, the best way to deal with this was like everything else: make the guy think he was a harmless idiot and then stab him when his back was turned. Well, shoot him, anyways.
"You know...this vaguely reminds me of that one Stephen King movie," Rudy started, glancing from Gwen and back to the cop, but not making a move to leave the car. "You know, the one miniseries where the cop is pulling over people on that highway and takes them to that town to kill them. And you kind of look a little like Ron Perlman--"
"Sir, do not make me ask again. Get out of your car now."
Gwen looked from the cop to Rudy and back again, and having an internal look inside the officer's head, she realized that whatever game Rudy was playing was not going to work on this guy. Again, she tried to nudge the thought that he should let them go, but it was past that point now. Even if Rudy wasn't the guy the report was about, there was enough probable cause for the officer to be suspicious that something was going on and he'd already seen Gwen in restraints.
"Look, I know it may seem weird, but we're into a little sadomasochism and bondage," Rudy said, trying again, holding up his hand a little to try and calm the cop down. "See, she just got done givin' it to me good and now we've switched places and it's her turn--"
"Get out of the car now," Officer Frewer was no longer waiting for Rudy to listen to him, but reaching forward and opening Rudy's door, the gun still fixed on the Agent.
"Alright...alright..." Rudy said in defeat, slowly stepping from the open door with his hands raised. Outwardly, he was fearful and seemed eager to please the man with the gun trained on him, but inwardly, he was cool and collected as ever, waiting for the right opportunity. Forced to his knees and then face-down on the pavement, Rudy did as he was told and laid there as the police officer stepped forward to address Gwen.
"Miss, are you alright? Are you injured?" Officer Frewer asked her through the still open driver's side door, giving her a quick glance but keeping his eyes and gun fixated on Rudy. When she didn't answer him, he looked at her and realized she'd been shaking her head "no" that she wasn't hurt. Probably in too much shock to answer him verbally.
And truthfully, Gwen was in shock. Was this it? Was it over? Had Rudy finally been defeated? Was she free? It was hard to tell because she couldn't feel anything from Rudy except his physical senses - which was mainly a lot of bruising and sharp pain in his face - so he was still probably willing to fight...but she didn't see how this could go wrong. She knew Rudy had put the gun he carried back into his pocket before they'd left the diner, but with him splayed out on the ground, if he made one move for it, the cop would not stop to ask what he was doing before shooting him. It was okay, although she was a little worried that the officer wasn't searching Rudy or cuffing him, she reasoned that he probably didn't want to get too close while he was still alone. And she knew he'd already called for backup.
"It's alright, miss. Everything's going to be okay now. Help is on the way. Can you get out of the car?" It was somewhat a relief to be around someone from the real-world again, a cop asking her normal questions and seeking after her well-being. It felt a bit odd that someone who had no clue about the Agents or people with abilities was trying to calm her down. It was even stranger that the worst was practically stopped in it's tracks by this untrained nobody.
But a little too late she started to get nervous about him continuing to look at her. He was just doing his job and she supposed she should have answered him, instead of gaping like a fish, because now he was trying to make eye contact to reassure her and make her feel safe. She could feel Rudy reaching into his pocket in the seconds while Frewer was addressing her and her eyes went wide sending him a sharp signal inside his head.
He has a GUN!
Officer Frewer did not wait for the thought to set in, his heart already jumping back up to rapid speeds as he turned to look back at Rudy. Quin was just rolling over onto his side, a technological mass of metal bits and pieces enveloping his hand and pointing up at the officer before Frewer pulled the trigger, automatically aiming for the chest area. Because of the angle that Rudy was lying on the ground, the bullet went straight through his right shoulder causing him to grunt harshly at the impact. Then in the seconds waiting for the impact to tremble through his shoulder and arm, Rudy pulled his own trigger.
Gwen cried out in surprise as Officer Frewer flew back against the car door violently in a flash of light that was becoming all too familiar to her, his body slamming into the metal like a limp rag doll. Then he slumped against it, eyes blank and arm with pistol still attached to his wrist hanging at an odd angle inside the car, the smell of gunpowder hanging crisp in the air.
For the longest time, Gwen sat frozen watching the opening between the car door and Officer Frewer's corpse, unable to move and unable to look away. Even though he was only a few feet from her, Rudy had gone off of her radar again and she couldn't tell if it was because he was dead or if he was just hiding like he'd done before. It was several minutes later when she heard the distant sound of sirens, that she was able to finally shake herself out of it and started to try and move in her seat.
A second later a sharp scream left her lips as Rudy's bloodied hand and body appeared in the doorway, dragging himself up to a kneeling position beside Officer Frewer's body. Pulling at the corpse until it fell over, Rudy shoved it away in irritation before pulling himself back up into his seat, cringing and hissing in pain as his right arm moved to help his ascent weakly. Probing his body, she could feel that the gun wound went all the way through his shoulder, but it didn't seem like it had hit anything major. Still, it was bleeding a lot and she wondered if it would be safe for him to drive like that. But he seemed to ignore the wound in favor of looking out the back window to see how close the cop's "backup" was before turning to close his door and start the engine back up.
As they peeled away from the shoulder of the road, still no sign of the cop's friends but hearing their distant wails, Rudy kept an eye on the rearview and let out a labored sigh. "Well, that went a lot better than I hoped," he said somewhat pleasantly. When Gwen gave him an incredulous look, he glanced at her and said defensively, "No, I mean, in that movie, that cop killed a lot of people before the main guys could get away. We got off pretty easy with what I was worried about. Which reminds me; you don't feel 'possessed' do you?" When she gave him an annoyed look, he grinned before looking into the rearview again. "Just checking."
***
Ozzie was sitting tensely waiting for a response from him, still ignoring the chaos she was creating in the street around her. She wasn't going to move a foot further until he'd given her some sort of explanation. Rudy liked to play that stupid "change the subject" game and although she'd dealt with it differently then, now that she knew what was going on with Quin, she really wasn't in the mood to let anybody else jerk her around like that. Least of all Alex whom she still didn't like very much.When he opened his mouth she found herself caught off guard briefly when he went off on a brief tangent about how she'd been with the kids. It made her blush a little to remember how it'd felt to be in charge of those brats - kids she didn't even know, but it felt the same as it always had. And what he said about having a daycare center reminded her even more of a conversation she'd had with someone long ago about that very thing. So, for a few moments instead of jumping on his case about changing the subject again, she sat trying to collect herself enough to still be angry about it. By the time she was ready to explode on his stupid ass again, he was talking and the words coming out of his mouth were exactly what she wanted to hear.
One thing she immediately zeroed in on was the whole change in Alex's demeanor, becoming almost melancholy and somber as he spoke, thoughtful and stepping over his words carefully. It no longer felt like he was trying to hide something from her though, but as if he were grappling with information that was painful to part with. That grabbed her attention immediately, more than the actual words themselves and she found her own anger dissolving on a cloud as he continued.
Osono quickly found her mental image of Gwen shifting and evolving as Alex spoke. Remembering that sweet young woman who'd almost been timid in response to Ozzie's teasing, but at the same time strong and passionate when talking with Alex. After Gwen had been taken, Ozzie had started to see her as a victim, as a sort of damsel in distress and had included herself as one of the metaphorical 'knights' on a quest to rescue her. But now...with what Alex was saying about Gwen's powers, although Gwen still seemed vulnerable, she'd raised herself up to an almost 'Jesus' and 'warrior' status herself.
Sacrificing herself, even when she knew she was in danger just so that Alex wouldn't get hurt. And apparently, she was still sacrificing her power to help keep him safe. The romance between these two would almost be vomit worthy if..it wasn't so real and passionate. Here he was, uninvolved in the big picture except with his association with his girlfriend. Nobody after him, nobody threatening him and he was risking everything to help get her free. And then there was Gwen, who probably knew, even now where ever she was, that he wouldn't give up and would keep putting himself in danger and she weakened herself deliberately to protect him, when she probably could use that power for herself more than he could. The situation was all sorts of fucked up but a beautiful romance, even she had to admit. And she normally hated this mushy bullshit.
And then he further explained about Gwen making a copy of herself and putting it in his head and Ozzie relaxed even more, even though that bit of it confused her just a little. It was extremely complicated but it seemed too out there to not be true. And she did make a mental note of him practically destroying his coffee cup all while talking about this and she took it along with his words to mean he was going through some sort of emotional turmoil discussing these things. And Ozzie had to admit, these were the first other people who knew about the Agency that she'd met, so she really didn't know what the rules were as far as who had powers and how they worked. But Alex's explanation of things seemed to work and she couldn't ignore that emotion. It was his version of Gwen's googly eyes and you just couldn't fake that.
When he ushered her to start driving again, she did so without a fuss, waiting for another car to make it's pass around her before being able to move forward. As she pulled out and continued down the street, with a small shake of her head she murmured, "You two are so freaking Metal, I swear."
Other than that, she didn't really know what to say. He was dealing with whatever in his own way and she didn't feel comfortable putting her hand on his shoulder and telling him 'everything's gonna be a'ight.' But she wasn't feeling like her normal self enough to just slap him and tell him 'suck it up, pussy!' So, she left it at 'Metal' and that's all she wanted to say about that. She'd gotten what she wanted and she was happy not to hate him so much anymore. Right now, at least.
Driving along, she tried to keep silent but really she couldn't help returning to the things he'd said. Especially when he'd basically told her she could leave if she wanted to, but that saving Gwen was something he had to do. "You love her a lot, huh?" she asked with a wry twist of her lips. "If it's NOT love with everything you've got to lose, not being involved or anything, it doesn't make sense for you to keep risking it all just to save her when you know they'll be crawling up your ass the day after it's done. You said so yourself, they won't stop throwing guys at you until something breaks.
"And thanks for your permission and all, and don't get me wrong, I'm sure your Gwen power-up is as awesome as it sounds - and if the woman at Starbucks is any indication of how badass it is. But I have my doubts about how far you'll get without me, Sir Limpsalot. No offense or nothing." She cast him a grin and looked down at his leg but said nothing about it as she continued driving.
"And I'm not just feeling guilty - I don't know if you noticed or anything but I don't form attachments to people very good. I hurt everybody Alex, and I burn everything I touch. Not only that but I like doing it. I'm not a very good person and most everybody I come into contact with can either sense it or they feel sick from Rudy when he comes trudging up with his 'lost puppy' thing. Gwen didn't. Or maybe she did but she saw something in me I don't normally show.
"But... this is gonna sound stupid, because I only just met her yesterday and we were only together for a little while and I know it sounds crazy... but she's my friend. I don't know... maybe she's affected me too, but I don't want to give up on her now. The one person who didn't immediately flinch when I put my arm around her and who in the midst of everything that was going wrong said my name like she wanted to save my life or something. That guy in the restaurant shot at us and as soon as he was dead, she thought of me. I don't have that with anybody else...and I haven't in a really...really long time. I'm gonna see this to the end and I'm not stopping until she's safe and back in your arms. I'll burn every-fucking-body if I have to."
Despite the serious tone of her conversation, Ozzie tried to brush it off and put on the tough-girl act. She figured, if he could take a moment to be all sentimental then she could do it too but she wasn't going to get mopey or emo about it. They were nearing the destination and she took out her pack of cigarette's before realizing it was empty, then crushing and tossing it out the window, letting out a harsh breath through her lips.
"So, this place, it's just an office building right? And you don't know if there's going to be Agents or anything? Do you...want me to drive around the block first or should I just pull right up front?" Her hands tapped lightly on the steering wheel and the car filled with a crisping heat as she got ready for battle. It was nowhere near as intense as it had been in the hotel room and she had more than enough control right now that it was not possible for any fire to be around without her expressed permission. But her excitement to start something could clearly be felt pulsing heavily in the air, even as her body tensed energetically.
***
The tears started to clear up the more he spoke, his voice deep and soothing to her, grounding her back into reality. She especially almost laughed when he called her "boss" again, reminding her once more who was suppose to be in charge here. But she thanked him for not rubbing her face in it or making her feel stupid for her momentary weaknesses and the fact that he was so strong right now only made her feel that attraction for him grow. Even when she could hear it in his voice and see it in his face as he struggled to sit upright with his feet planted on the floor of the limo, he was trying to be the levelheaded one and she was extremely grateful.Stephanie felt like such a mess as she became more and more aware of the situation she'd placed herself in. He wasn't going to die and he wasn't going to leave her - she'd already made that decision for him on the plane - so really her crying about whether he should take the drugs or not seemed all of a sudden really pathetic. But she could not deny the way it had felt just then... the weight on her heart to hold him in her lap and wondering blindly what she was expected to do. The thought of continuing this mission without him - whether because he was going to leave or fall dead on her - scared her. And that had been mostly what she'd been crying about. If she forced the drugs on him, he might hate her for ruining everything he'd created in himself, but if she didn't...she didn't know what the suit would do to him in it's sudden absence.
She was done crying about it now though, since she knew that wasn't what he needed to help him. She needed to stay strong and levelheaded if not for him then at least for her case - which, she'd almost completely forgotten about yet again, with her focus completely turned onto him. From now on, she'd just make sure to make herself available to him, something she hadn't been before, in place of playing and pulling at him like a toy.
And she understood and respected him about his decision regarding the drugs. But she would decide when she felt he'd had enough. From the way he was looking now, and the toll withdrawal took on a body, she was not going to wait for him to lie writhing on the floor in a mess before she stepped in to help him. She couldn't and it would be a failing in her duty as his superior. Other Lead Agents were willing to throw away the men and women on their team as mere numbers when it came to their cases. Jason was all she had left and she couldn't just break herself off emotionally like that. Not from him.
The last things he said to her as he sat on the seat trying to gather himself really hit everything home for her and when their eyes met hers shined with a vibrant inner light. So forceful... there was a hint of that passion deep inside and she could see it there. He may have hesitated to make any physical contact with her but she needed to touch him then. She needed to feel that strength pulsing within him and to let herself know he was going to be alright.
Siddling close to him on the seat, her arm reached around his back to tuck into his waist, pulling him flush against her with their sides touching and laid her head on his shoulder, golden locks falling over his upper arm. "Unorthodox is a good way to describe it and I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm glad I chose you and I know no matter what happens, I will not regret the decision I made in signing you on."
She tossed her hair out of the way to look up at him, nuzzling close to his still bared neck. "I only hope that I can be something you won't regret..." her voice took on the hint of a sultry tone as she brushed her lips against all the skin she could touch.
Finally, having had her fill, Stephanie drew back to look him over, and her hand drifted up to touch the marks on his neck, a smile of pride forming on her lips. "Those look really good on you," she said fondly. Feeling the sudden urge to do so, she leaned forward and licked up his neck to just under his chin, delighting in the small shiver it produced in him.
Then she was pulling away and standing, half-bent over to open the side door of the limo. "Benoit is probably having a fit right now, being alone with the Master for this long. Are you alright to go or do you want to sit for a little longer?" The obvious suggestion in her flirtatious glance over her shoulder was that she'd "keep him company" while he did.
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Sun Oct 31, 2010 5:46 am
He assumed being ‘Metal’ was a good thing because she sure seemed to act like it. She was almost as relaxed as he was until her energy picked up while she talked. Alex had been right: Gwen had made quite the impression. For some reason, he was proud of that, even if he’d had nothing to do with it. He tried not to smile when she said she’d set everyone on fire. That wasn’t quite the way he wanted it to happen, but knowing she was ready to fight for their side gave him more comfort.
“If Gwen were here, she’d be happy to know the mass felonies you’ll do in her name.” They’d have to manage three to get past Charlton. “But let’s start with the basics: we only have to send a message. It doesn’t mean anyone needs to die.”
The air warmed around him. He would’ve told her to stop, but he was more interested in where the car was headed. The GPS had an arrow over where their car was supposed to be, and not only was it nose-to-nose with the tiny star for the address, but a tinny voice piped in with a thin, “You have arrived at your destination.”
And it was burned down.
“Of course it is...”
Welp – on to the next one. 427 Al-
“Let’s look around. They might’ve left something.” He was already getting out of the car. “It could’ve just happened.”
No, this’s been here a while. Anything they left behind was shit they didn’t need.
There it was, the great land they’d been searching for. It might’ve been an office but it was shaped more like a factory. At three stories high and with hulking, barred windows at its top, it must’ve made one hell of a noise when it’d caved in. The roof hadn’t left any trace of where it’d been resting. The whole of it had slipped inside, tearing part of the fire-licked wall and revealing it’d crashed through the other floors. Alex could make out some chairs and broken desks among the soot, but Xander was right. This had been here for ages. Nothing he saw was worth taking, either. It didn’t have to be the Agents, but certainly someone had picked the office clean.
“Great,” he muttered. “So now what?”
427 Albert Drive.
“We wasted our time if we can’t do anything here,” Alex said. “I know it’s destroyed already, but we want to get their attention. Why can’t Osono light something up anyway?”
Basic science, pompom: fire needs fuel. I’d say we’re lacking on that. Whatever could burn had burned. Mix in the erosion and the rain, and short of a miracle gas pipe beneath their feet... You should keep moving.
The guy didn’t want to chat about alternatives. His hands were twitching, and not from the caffeine. They could have questioned Osono to see if there was anything she could do, but Xander put him back in the car before his seat had gone cold and went to work preparing for the second stop.
“427 Albert Drive,” he said again, punching it into the system. “That’s where we have to go.”
This place wasn’t important. Must’ve done... number crunching... computer work... communications and tracking, maybe. It’s not big enough to house any serious activity.
Translation: if they’d left something behind, it’d have nothing to do with what they wanted.
“How big would it have to be?”
The size of a hotel or a very large warehouse, enough to put up a front to the world that they’re a legitimate business and that’ll explain the comings and goings from the darker side of life. It’s either a seven storey building – minimum – or there’s levels underground. There could be levels underground here! Not likely, or else it wouldn’t’ve been abandoned. This was a limb they could walk without, mostly because it was a hundred percent legal.
“Amazing. The Agency does things that go against the law. Couldn’t’ve guessed.”
It goes against the Human Rights Act too, but who listens to those hippies? Alex’s stomach growled. Room for coffee? Methinks ‘yes’...
“Let’s hurry,” Alex told her. “Hopefully we’ll reach the next one while it’s still standing.” Lower-voiced, he asked, “If it’s not important, would it have mattered if we torched it?”
Hell yes. If there’s one thing the Agency protects, it’s its property – even if they’d left it for dead. They’re extremely territorial.
“But if they left it for dead, how did you know about it?”
I got a form sent from here once. It was a complaint about my ‘reckless behaviour’.
That was almost as shocking as the ‘The Agency is evil’ bit.
“What’d you do?”
You know how managers go from place to place to see how other managers are doing?
“Sure.”
You know how I said tanks were hilarious to drive?
“... Sure.”
Asshole parked in my spot. Xander sounded like he was shrugging. I did him a favour. His car sucked.
“You’re a good person, Gwen.”
I left him alive, didn’t I? Then the prick says I’m ‘too violent’.
Alex eyed the letters on the screen. It’d be twenty minutes to get there provided traffic was on their side. They’d have six minutes to do everything they needed, but he wasn’t sure yet if it’d have them scraping by or missing the deadline entirely. Then another dot caught his eye. It was a point of interest highlighted by whoever’d driven this car before. That was a gas station. As far as fuel went, Osono would have plenty.
“What’s the next place supposed to be? Another office building?” Could he check on the GPS? He started tapping at some other things. Nothing yet.
I’ve only ever seen the address. Your guess is as good as mine.
They would need luck, then. The universe had been screwing them for days, but since it’d been so overdue for giving them a break, the next one could be what they wanted. On the more guaranteed side, this put them back on the path towards Charlton. They hadn’t gone so far out of their way to waste their time here, but they wouldn’t be doing it again. The destinations lit up like Christmas lights, dancing along the main highway not two minutes from where they were.
“Osono, for the next one, drive up slowly. If it’s burned down too, we’ll charge in, but I don’t want a mob after us. Not everyone can make a run for it.”
He should’ve at least checked for crutches. He was doomed when he got back to being himself.
Jason didn’t know if he was supposed to be grateful for her having undone his collar, and he could say as much because who else would it have been, or disturbed that he’d taken so long to do it up again. His hands went to work immediately covering the skin that’d been exposed, but the feeling of her mouth... and more of her mouth... lingered on him. There’d be time to figure that out later. What she’d said – and done – had him as awake as he could manage beyond the pulsing of his head. If Benoit truly had been stuck up there with Eric this whole while, he, more than anyone, would’ve been counting the exact seconds it took for Jason and his lead to rejoin them.
“We should go,” he said simply.
He recognized the invitation. He wasn’t dumb. It was just that with all this other crap going on, he didn’t have the strength to consider being panicked by it. In that case, he’d do what he usually did in moments like these and ignore the subtleties to go out the door. But he did need a minute after he was outside. The whole of his body was wasting away and it was getting hard to breathe. This was where it was going to happen, he told himself. It’d be another few minutes, and that was if Eric felt generous.
The parking lot wasn’t as full as he’d expected it to be. Off to the side was a ramp leading deeper into the world, so he satisfied himself with assuming the rest of the cars were below him. And where had the others gone? How had they gotten up? He had to blink away the sweat that hadn’t actually gotten into his eyes. His goggles would’ve found the door immediately, but he wasn’t about to make it worse by using those. In response, his stomach gave a violent lurch.
“There’s –” Swallow. Just swallow it down. He was not going to hand back a suit that was covered in puke. “There’s an elevator. That’s the way up.”
He waited until she’d started walking before he moved, too. Then it was a half-dash to reach it before he fell over. His collar was cutting into his neck with a vengeance it’d never had before. It seemed to want him out and was furious an A-6 was in its seams. Sorry, suit... He’d be out of it fast enough.
One access code, one open door, one press of a button and then they were at the lobby. Three half-dead, orange bulbs waited for them, but the rest of the floor was eclipsed. Again, it was something his goggles would’ve cured, but he had to stop putting them on his list of options.
Where were they?
Eric and Benoit had obviously vanished, but they’d left a trail. Three bodies had slumped into shadowed mounds on the ground. The will to investigate came over him, and so he quietly approached the closest. He checked for a sign of life by prodding it with his foot. Failing to get a response brought him to turn the body over. An incredible weight fell off of him as the smell of blood flowed fresh from beneath his neck. That was a good sign. It meant the cause hadn’t been supernatural. Alexander wasn’t here. Squinting in the weak trickle of sun, Jason could make out a tidy vertical line on the left of the man’s neck. The line was a hair shorter than a full inch would have called for and it oozed a steady stream, run down from what had surely been a sharp spurt. The rest of his neck was abnormally clean – completely blood-free despite the pool he’d now noticed and the mark on the back of his throat that meant whatever’d stabbed him had gone through. Three guesses as to who’d pulled this off. He hadn’t even known the Frenchie was armed.
Three bodies and three perfect lines all in exactly the same spot. It wasn’t until his eyes had adjusted that he saw the fourth. That one wasn’t slumped like the others; it’d been laid out neatly with its arms crossed over his chest. The power of deduction told him it was Eric’s work. It surprised him. When Jason abandoned his current corpse to look over the folded one, he picked up on a sense of delicacy that felt too out of reach for the A-1. The man was noisy and blunt and – while relatively nice to be around – harsh when the mood struck him, but there’d been a care put into this. Without his goggles, he couldn’t get a complete analysis, but he knew enough about smothering to know that that’d been what had happened, and with hands as big as Jean’s, this really wasn’t too hard to manage.
“There was a fight. Eric and Benoit won this round,” Jason reported. “I don’t know where they are now, though...”
His goggles would know. Unlike his suit, they strained to be with him. From around his neck, they were called and pleaded and he blinked hard as if it’d bring him back to earth. It worked, mostly. His hands trembled.
“Stephie! Jay-jay!” Where’d that come from? “Up here! Look up! Up, up, up, up, up!”
There was a small walkway attached to the stairs that led into the halls of the second floor. Eric was standing on it and waving to them. Benoit wasn’t around, but the man wasn’t panicked. Then again, if something had gone wrong, was the Eric the sort of person to stand and grieve about it?
“We’re coming up, sir,” he called. “May I ask what happened here?”
“It’s a welcome party! You know how these crazy kids are,” Eric shouted. “Come on up – you’ve gotta meet Maddy! Tell me she’s not somebody you wanna shoot in the first ten seconds.”
... That was promising.
Jason went upstairs with his lead, careful to keep his balance on the steps and managing a tight grip on the handrail. Too bad it didn’t save him from slipping on still more blood that’d apparently been used to wash the fucking stairs. He stumbled down to the lower step, caught himself – barely – and then hoisted his body back to standing before dryly warning, “Watch your step.”
Another body rested at the top. There was a line in his neck, too. ‘Welcome party’, huh?
“Bad job, Benny,” he could hear Eric scolding. “I can’t use any of these guys! Eight lackeys and you leave me with one?”
“I fail to see how your hoarding should have been my main priority.”
“YOU HAVE MURDERED MY MEN.”
The last one was new, and as Jason made it down the walkway and turned into the corridor – stepping over the last of ‘lackeys’ to get there – he was greeted by the sight of Eric, who looked no worse for wear, Benoit, who was scratching at his wrist, and a new woman, roughly the age of Frenchie but minus the slightest note of modesty. This woman was clearly in charge and she equally as clearly did not appreciate their presence.
“Stephanie, Jason, this is Madeline Bergmann. She’s the A-2 of this noble structure and she’s a second away from stripping me of my sparkling smile.”
Impossible. A bomb couldn’t take that thing off. Well – aside from Quin...
“MY FACILITY IS OFF-LIMITS TO THOSE WHO HAVE NOT RECEIVED MY PERMISSON.” ... That was – uh... ouch. Loud. “PATTEN, YOU HAVE NOT RECEIVED MY PERMISSION. YOUR INTRUSION DISGRACES THE NAME OF THE AGENCY.”
“I see what you mean about those ten seconds,” Jason muttered.
“I know, right?”
“Miss. Bergmann, I can assure you, we have no intention of disgracing your, the Agency’s or anyone else’s name,” Benoit said. “The trust you extended to this small group has ultimately been upheld. Mr. Patten acquired the form of my former colleague, who has since been disposed of in Elmira, and time has not permitted me to send word of the change in company. I hope you will see his arrival through the entry of his access code rather than the use of the scanner as a means to eliminate any threat of deception. We come to you in full gratitude of your co-operation and full disclosure of our work.”
“The full disclosure thing’s for A-3 and down,” Eric added, disdainfully. His smile had tightened again. “You understand.”
Madeline Bergmann had tense and sharp features. The air around her was either stiff and frozen and a too-polished, porcelain finish capped off her very essence. Her black hair had been cut in a fierce line above her shoulders, the same way the front of it had been cut above her nose. Her face was locked in a permanent scowl while her eyes were glassy shards of grey ice, stuck on whoever was talking at the time and measuring her disapproval through how wide they were. She wore a suit of sorts: the pants were long and nearly over the pointed toes of her boots while her top, backless and strapless – not a drop of modesty – and bordering a corset, managed to show off tons of skin while at the same time absolutely none at all. There was no cleavage, but the way it was made said there should have been. Naturally, the suit was black, and the thin grey stripes running down its length served to make her more rigid than was humanly possible.
“I WILL SPEAK OF THIS MATTER ONCE AND ONLY ONCE. FAILURE TO ADHERE TO MY CODE WILL RESULT IN THE TERMINATION OF YOUR PERSISTENCE HERE.” She had her hands together as if she was holding a whip, but unless it was invisible – and that was a terrifying thought – the sole reason for it was because her arms were too scared of her to do anything else. “MY WORD IS TO BE OBEYED. YOU ARE HERE TO USE MY EQUIPMENT AND TO USE MY STAFF. SHOULD I DECIDE AT ANY MOMENT TO REMOVE YOU FROM MY GROUNDS, YOU WILL OBEY OR FACE TERMINATION.”
Eric perked up.
“Does that mean I can stay?”
He’d almost sung it.
“YOU WILL BEHAVE, MR. PATTEN. I WILL NOT ACCEPT THE ANTICS YOU PROVE PRONE TO COMMIT.”
“... So... Yes?”
“YOU.” She meant Jason. “YOU WILL STAND AT THE DOOR. YOU.” She meant Stephanie. “YOU WILL SHOWER. YOU.” Frenchie. “YOU WILL COME WITH ME.” And with that, she whipped around on her heel and stalked down the rest of the hall, clearing a path through the air and the one soul unfortunate enough to be near her.
“Go on, Benny,” Eric said, with a heavy slap on his back. “Go.”
Benoit had a look on his face Jason nearly stepped away from. But he went, dragging that bottled storm he seemed too dignified to let loose.
“What does she want with him?”
“I may have tricked him into saying ‘ne moi forcez’... uh... something French about him not wanting to have to stab me,” Eric said. “How’re you feelin’, kid?”
Nauseated. Dizzy. Tired.
“Fine.”
“I’m happy to hear that. Go wait at the door like she said,” Eric told him. “Don’t ask me why, but if the She-Wolf said it, it’s in your best interest. Stephie! How ‘bout you and me take a peek at some of the jars they’ve got in here? It’s nothing like Elmira – only four are here, I think – but I wouldn’t mind making sure you know what’ll happen to you once you’ve transferred.”
The switch of his attention from Jason to his lead meant Jason had been dismissed. Alright, he’d go, but he’d be back the second he had an excuse. With a small nod of his head, he excused himself and went back the way he came, careful to miss the slippery step on the way down.
“If Gwen were here, she’d be happy to know the mass felonies you’ll do in her name.” They’d have to manage three to get past Charlton. “But let’s start with the basics: we only have to send a message. It doesn’t mean anyone needs to die.”
The air warmed around him. He would’ve told her to stop, but he was more interested in where the car was headed. The GPS had an arrow over where their car was supposed to be, and not only was it nose-to-nose with the tiny star for the address, but a tinny voice piped in with a thin, “You have arrived at your destination.”
And it was burned down.
“Of course it is...”
Welp – on to the next one. 427 Al-
“Let’s look around. They might’ve left something.” He was already getting out of the car. “It could’ve just happened.”
No, this’s been here a while. Anything they left behind was shit they didn’t need.
There it was, the great land they’d been searching for. It might’ve been an office but it was shaped more like a factory. At three stories high and with hulking, barred windows at its top, it must’ve made one hell of a noise when it’d caved in. The roof hadn’t left any trace of where it’d been resting. The whole of it had slipped inside, tearing part of the fire-licked wall and revealing it’d crashed through the other floors. Alex could make out some chairs and broken desks among the soot, but Xander was right. This had been here for ages. Nothing he saw was worth taking, either. It didn’t have to be the Agents, but certainly someone had picked the office clean.
“Great,” he muttered. “So now what?”
427 Albert Drive.
“We wasted our time if we can’t do anything here,” Alex said. “I know it’s destroyed already, but we want to get their attention. Why can’t Osono light something up anyway?”
Basic science, pompom: fire needs fuel. I’d say we’re lacking on that. Whatever could burn had burned. Mix in the erosion and the rain, and short of a miracle gas pipe beneath their feet... You should keep moving.
The guy didn’t want to chat about alternatives. His hands were twitching, and not from the caffeine. They could have questioned Osono to see if there was anything she could do, but Xander put him back in the car before his seat had gone cold and went to work preparing for the second stop.
“427 Albert Drive,” he said again, punching it into the system. “That’s where we have to go.”
This place wasn’t important. Must’ve done... number crunching... computer work... communications and tracking, maybe. It’s not big enough to house any serious activity.
Translation: if they’d left something behind, it’d have nothing to do with what they wanted.
“How big would it have to be?”
The size of a hotel or a very large warehouse, enough to put up a front to the world that they’re a legitimate business and that’ll explain the comings and goings from the darker side of life. It’s either a seven storey building – minimum – or there’s levels underground. There could be levels underground here! Not likely, or else it wouldn’t’ve been abandoned. This was a limb they could walk without, mostly because it was a hundred percent legal.
“Amazing. The Agency does things that go against the law. Couldn’t’ve guessed.”
It goes against the Human Rights Act too, but who listens to those hippies? Alex’s stomach growled. Room for coffee? Methinks ‘yes’...
“Let’s hurry,” Alex told her. “Hopefully we’ll reach the next one while it’s still standing.” Lower-voiced, he asked, “If it’s not important, would it have mattered if we torched it?”
Hell yes. If there’s one thing the Agency protects, it’s its property – even if they’d left it for dead. They’re extremely territorial.
“But if they left it for dead, how did you know about it?”
I got a form sent from here once. It was a complaint about my ‘reckless behaviour’.
That was almost as shocking as the ‘The Agency is evil’ bit.
“What’d you do?”
You know how managers go from place to place to see how other managers are doing?
“Sure.”
You know how I said tanks were hilarious to drive?
“... Sure.”
Asshole parked in my spot. Xander sounded like he was shrugging. I did him a favour. His car sucked.
“You’re a good person, Gwen.”
I left him alive, didn’t I? Then the prick says I’m ‘too violent’.
Alex eyed the letters on the screen. It’d be twenty minutes to get there provided traffic was on their side. They’d have six minutes to do everything they needed, but he wasn’t sure yet if it’d have them scraping by or missing the deadline entirely. Then another dot caught his eye. It was a point of interest highlighted by whoever’d driven this car before. That was a gas station. As far as fuel went, Osono would have plenty.
“What’s the next place supposed to be? Another office building?” Could he check on the GPS? He started tapping at some other things. Nothing yet.
I’ve only ever seen the address. Your guess is as good as mine.
They would need luck, then. The universe had been screwing them for days, but since it’d been so overdue for giving them a break, the next one could be what they wanted. On the more guaranteed side, this put them back on the path towards Charlton. They hadn’t gone so far out of their way to waste their time here, but they wouldn’t be doing it again. The destinations lit up like Christmas lights, dancing along the main highway not two minutes from where they were.
“Osono, for the next one, drive up slowly. If it’s burned down too, we’ll charge in, but I don’t want a mob after us. Not everyone can make a run for it.”
He should’ve at least checked for crutches. He was doomed when he got back to being himself.
* * *
Jason didn’t know if he was supposed to be grateful for her having undone his collar, and he could say as much because who else would it have been, or disturbed that he’d taken so long to do it up again. His hands went to work immediately covering the skin that’d been exposed, but the feeling of her mouth... and more of her mouth... lingered on him. There’d be time to figure that out later. What she’d said – and done – had him as awake as he could manage beyond the pulsing of his head. If Benoit truly had been stuck up there with Eric this whole while, he, more than anyone, would’ve been counting the exact seconds it took for Jason and his lead to rejoin them.
“We should go,” he said simply.
He recognized the invitation. He wasn’t dumb. It was just that with all this other crap going on, he didn’t have the strength to consider being panicked by it. In that case, he’d do what he usually did in moments like these and ignore the subtleties to go out the door. But he did need a minute after he was outside. The whole of his body was wasting away and it was getting hard to breathe. This was where it was going to happen, he told himself. It’d be another few minutes, and that was if Eric felt generous.
The parking lot wasn’t as full as he’d expected it to be. Off to the side was a ramp leading deeper into the world, so he satisfied himself with assuming the rest of the cars were below him. And where had the others gone? How had they gotten up? He had to blink away the sweat that hadn’t actually gotten into his eyes. His goggles would’ve found the door immediately, but he wasn’t about to make it worse by using those. In response, his stomach gave a violent lurch.
“There’s –” Swallow. Just swallow it down. He was not going to hand back a suit that was covered in puke. “There’s an elevator. That’s the way up.”
He waited until she’d started walking before he moved, too. Then it was a half-dash to reach it before he fell over. His collar was cutting into his neck with a vengeance it’d never had before. It seemed to want him out and was furious an A-6 was in its seams. Sorry, suit... He’d be out of it fast enough.
One access code, one open door, one press of a button and then they were at the lobby. Three half-dead, orange bulbs waited for them, but the rest of the floor was eclipsed. Again, it was something his goggles would’ve cured, but he had to stop putting them on his list of options.
Where were they?
Eric and Benoit had obviously vanished, but they’d left a trail. Three bodies had slumped into shadowed mounds on the ground. The will to investigate came over him, and so he quietly approached the closest. He checked for a sign of life by prodding it with his foot. Failing to get a response brought him to turn the body over. An incredible weight fell off of him as the smell of blood flowed fresh from beneath his neck. That was a good sign. It meant the cause hadn’t been supernatural. Alexander wasn’t here. Squinting in the weak trickle of sun, Jason could make out a tidy vertical line on the left of the man’s neck. The line was a hair shorter than a full inch would have called for and it oozed a steady stream, run down from what had surely been a sharp spurt. The rest of his neck was abnormally clean – completely blood-free despite the pool he’d now noticed and the mark on the back of his throat that meant whatever’d stabbed him had gone through. Three guesses as to who’d pulled this off. He hadn’t even known the Frenchie was armed.
Three bodies and three perfect lines all in exactly the same spot. It wasn’t until his eyes had adjusted that he saw the fourth. That one wasn’t slumped like the others; it’d been laid out neatly with its arms crossed over his chest. The power of deduction told him it was Eric’s work. It surprised him. When Jason abandoned his current corpse to look over the folded one, he picked up on a sense of delicacy that felt too out of reach for the A-1. The man was noisy and blunt and – while relatively nice to be around – harsh when the mood struck him, but there’d been a care put into this. Without his goggles, he couldn’t get a complete analysis, but he knew enough about smothering to know that that’d been what had happened, and with hands as big as Jean’s, this really wasn’t too hard to manage.
“There was a fight. Eric and Benoit won this round,” Jason reported. “I don’t know where they are now, though...”
His goggles would know. Unlike his suit, they strained to be with him. From around his neck, they were called and pleaded and he blinked hard as if it’d bring him back to earth. It worked, mostly. His hands trembled.
“Stephie! Jay-jay!” Where’d that come from? “Up here! Look up! Up, up, up, up, up!”
There was a small walkway attached to the stairs that led into the halls of the second floor. Eric was standing on it and waving to them. Benoit wasn’t around, but the man wasn’t panicked. Then again, if something had gone wrong, was the Eric the sort of person to stand and grieve about it?
“We’re coming up, sir,” he called. “May I ask what happened here?”
“It’s a welcome party! You know how these crazy kids are,” Eric shouted. “Come on up – you’ve gotta meet Maddy! Tell me she’s not somebody you wanna shoot in the first ten seconds.”
... That was promising.
Jason went upstairs with his lead, careful to keep his balance on the steps and managing a tight grip on the handrail. Too bad it didn’t save him from slipping on still more blood that’d apparently been used to wash the fucking stairs. He stumbled down to the lower step, caught himself – barely – and then hoisted his body back to standing before dryly warning, “Watch your step.”
Another body rested at the top. There was a line in his neck, too. ‘Welcome party’, huh?
“Bad job, Benny,” he could hear Eric scolding. “I can’t use any of these guys! Eight lackeys and you leave me with one?”
“I fail to see how your hoarding should have been my main priority.”
“YOU HAVE MURDERED MY MEN.”
The last one was new, and as Jason made it down the walkway and turned into the corridor – stepping over the last of ‘lackeys’ to get there – he was greeted by the sight of Eric, who looked no worse for wear, Benoit, who was scratching at his wrist, and a new woman, roughly the age of Frenchie but minus the slightest note of modesty. This woman was clearly in charge and she equally as clearly did not appreciate their presence.
“Stephanie, Jason, this is Madeline Bergmann. She’s the A-2 of this noble structure and she’s a second away from stripping me of my sparkling smile.”
Impossible. A bomb couldn’t take that thing off. Well – aside from Quin...
“MY FACILITY IS OFF-LIMITS TO THOSE WHO HAVE NOT RECEIVED MY PERMISSON.” ... That was – uh... ouch. Loud. “PATTEN, YOU HAVE NOT RECEIVED MY PERMISSION. YOUR INTRUSION DISGRACES THE NAME OF THE AGENCY.”
“I see what you mean about those ten seconds,” Jason muttered.
“I know, right?”
“Miss. Bergmann, I can assure you, we have no intention of disgracing your, the Agency’s or anyone else’s name,” Benoit said. “The trust you extended to this small group has ultimately been upheld. Mr. Patten acquired the form of my former colleague, who has since been disposed of in Elmira, and time has not permitted me to send word of the change in company. I hope you will see his arrival through the entry of his access code rather than the use of the scanner as a means to eliminate any threat of deception. We come to you in full gratitude of your co-operation and full disclosure of our work.”
“The full disclosure thing’s for A-3 and down,” Eric added, disdainfully. His smile had tightened again. “You understand.”
Madeline Bergmann had tense and sharp features. The air around her was either stiff and frozen and a too-polished, porcelain finish capped off her very essence. Her black hair had been cut in a fierce line above her shoulders, the same way the front of it had been cut above her nose. Her face was locked in a permanent scowl while her eyes were glassy shards of grey ice, stuck on whoever was talking at the time and measuring her disapproval through how wide they were. She wore a suit of sorts: the pants were long and nearly over the pointed toes of her boots while her top, backless and strapless – not a drop of modesty – and bordering a corset, managed to show off tons of skin while at the same time absolutely none at all. There was no cleavage, but the way it was made said there should have been. Naturally, the suit was black, and the thin grey stripes running down its length served to make her more rigid than was humanly possible.
“I WILL SPEAK OF THIS MATTER ONCE AND ONLY ONCE. FAILURE TO ADHERE TO MY CODE WILL RESULT IN THE TERMINATION OF YOUR PERSISTENCE HERE.” She had her hands together as if she was holding a whip, but unless it was invisible – and that was a terrifying thought – the sole reason for it was because her arms were too scared of her to do anything else. “MY WORD IS TO BE OBEYED. YOU ARE HERE TO USE MY EQUIPMENT AND TO USE MY STAFF. SHOULD I DECIDE AT ANY MOMENT TO REMOVE YOU FROM MY GROUNDS, YOU WILL OBEY OR FACE TERMINATION.”
Eric perked up.
“Does that mean I can stay?”
He’d almost sung it.
“YOU WILL BEHAVE, MR. PATTEN. I WILL NOT ACCEPT THE ANTICS YOU PROVE PRONE TO COMMIT.”
“... So... Yes?”
“YOU.” She meant Jason. “YOU WILL STAND AT THE DOOR. YOU.” She meant Stephanie. “YOU WILL SHOWER. YOU.” Frenchie. “YOU WILL COME WITH ME.” And with that, she whipped around on her heel and stalked down the rest of the hall, clearing a path through the air and the one soul unfortunate enough to be near her.
“Go on, Benny,” Eric said, with a heavy slap on his back. “Go.”
Benoit had a look on his face Jason nearly stepped away from. But he went, dragging that bottled storm he seemed too dignified to let loose.
“What does she want with him?”
“I may have tricked him into saying ‘ne moi forcez’... uh... something French about him not wanting to have to stab me,” Eric said. “How’re you feelin’, kid?”
Nauseated. Dizzy. Tired.
“Fine.”
“I’m happy to hear that. Go wait at the door like she said,” Eric told him. “Don’t ask me why, but if the She-Wolf said it, it’s in your best interest. Stephie! How ‘bout you and me take a peek at some of the jars they’ve got in here? It’s nothing like Elmira – only four are here, I think – but I wouldn’t mind making sure you know what’ll happen to you once you’ve transferred.”
The switch of his attention from Jason to his lead meant Jason had been dismissed. Alright, he’d go, but he’d be back the second he had an excuse. With a small nod of his head, he excused himself and went back the way he came, careful to miss the slippery step on the way down.
Last edited by Tartra on Fri May 06, 2011 2:54 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 Oct 31, 2010 2:50 pm
It was still difficult for him, she could tell, but she let him have his space as he searched out and found the elevator, proceeding towards it ahead of him so he wouldn't feel emasculated by her constant vigilance. But Stephanie was definitely more aware of him now - if that was even possible - even as the taste of his sweat lingered on her tongue, the rest of her senses were wide open to him, listening and watching when she could while appearing not to be focused on him. Her attention was a funny thing however and control was hard to pinpoint lately. As a result, even stuck in the small space with him, her body threatening to make the space even smaller for them both, she found herself drifting away from that the further up they went.
Gwen. Gwen was coming here. Just a few more hours stood between her and her precious target, the woman who'd dominated her every thought, every dream, and every breath for four years. And there would be nothing stopping her from having exactly what she wanted from her now, hand delivered and completely defenseless to Stephanie's will. The excitement of this glorious reunion trembled through her as the doors opened and Jason was shoved to the back of her mind as she took a deep breath and stepped forward. As she glanced around the hallway, her eyes sweeping over everything quickly, she chided herself silently when she realized she was already looking for her. It was only after Jason approached one of the first forms laying on the ground that she even became aware that there were corpses in the room. Silently, she stood by and allowed him to do his job, surveying the rest of the lobby in what little light filtered in through the windows, and searching for the Master and Benoit.
When Jason finally spoke, she nodded in agreement and let her gaze sweep carelessly back over the bodies. She would have figured that if Benoit didn't survive then at least Master, even if he hadn't been wearing that massive form, would have had no trouble dealing with a few adversaries. But the question remained, why had they been attacked? Weren't they being expected here? And with Master in their group, it seemed a bit contradictory that there would be any Agents foolish enough to set men on them like this if they even knew who he was.
The sound of Master's voice burst the contemplative bubble she was in and she looked up at his direction, a small, shy smile tugging at the edges of her lips to see that glorious face again. And he was unperturbed as ever - she took that as a good sign, although she found it hard to imagine that smile leaving his face other than to be replaced by an even colder, deadlier grin. The small vision she had of what it would look like made her shiver in brief delight.
Proceeding up the stairs with Jason, she watched with a small giggle of amusement as he slipped on the blood that had been left as a welcome mat, but tried to hide the expression behind a daintily held up hand. Goodness, he was so adorable. With the smell of blood in the air, she was practically feeling amorous and would have struggled to resist jumping him right then, if it weren't for the distracting conversation coming from above. Particularly the sound of another female voice pricked her ears up and her face grew serious as she walked the rest of the way up.
Immediately upon leaving the walkway, Stephanie's eyes zoomed in on the other woman and it took her a few seconds to collect herself. First off, the woman was absolutely gorgeous in that threatening, cold and domineering way that Stephanie herself had tried to achieve - even before she'd gone through a few days of personal hygiene neglect, the woman made her look incredibly soft and fluffy in comparison. She worked those suit pants a lot better than Stephanie did her own and even with the top she was wearing, Stephanie felt it achieved that sophisticated and seductive power that she was probably going for - the untouchable femme fatale.
Even though she was a few years older than Stephanie, she still owned her womanly assets and wielded them with expert experience that made her presence magnetic. Under normal circumstances, Stephanie would have been completely turned off by the shrill note in the woman's voice, but instead it had the opposite effect. To be fair though, it was a tad annoying for her to constantly yell while speaking, but seeing the effect it had on others - whether getting Master to barely hold back his loathing for her, or to reduce Benoit to trying to placate her - it was a very powerful display. Not one Stephanie would have used, personally, preferring to utilize the power of a 'softly spoken word', but for this Madeline person, it worked.
As soon as Master introduced Madeline, stating her rank and name, Stephanie instantly set her shoulders back in a efficient manner and smoothed over her features with what was left of her emotionless mask. There was the air of trying to appear professional in front of this other woman in hopes of impressing her on some level, but she didn't even seem to notice Stephanie or Jason, in favor of chewing Master out. That was the one thing Stephanie was not fond of, along with the sound of her screaming; the blatant disrespect for her idol and the one man in the room who outranked them all, but it did not diminish Madeline's powerful allure.
Apparently, Stephanie and Jason weren't as transparent as she'd assumed, because a second later, Madeline was indicating each of them and issuing orders. At first, Stephanie half-scowled when the A-2 ordered her partner to do anything - despite understanding on a reasonable level that Madeline's authority extended farther than hers, Stephanie still didn't like it - but her expression cleared and she blinked in embarrassment as her own orders were...to bathe. She quickly glanced around at the others but nobody noticed how on the spot she suddenly felt and she resisted the urge to inspect herself to see how bad things had gotten.
It was most certainly something she needed, as she'd made a note of on the plane, her hair falling limp on her shoulders, but she stayed stiff until Madeline had turned to leave, before tucking a few strands that had fallen into her face and been ignored, behind her ears. Great, she'd wanted to make a good impression on the higher ranked and more fashionable woman and here she was looking like a sleaze-ball. The men probably hadn't noticed or cared, but women were aware of these things and they filed it away as a label for the other person. And labels generally stuck once they were made. Hopefully, when she had a chance to clean up a bit, she'd be given a second chance to not look like a completely incompetent slob in front of the other female Agent.
And all too quickly, she felt put on the spot again as the Master addressed her, inviting her to join him for a look at the body tanks. As Jason took his leave however, her attention divided itself for a few moments more to watch him go, concern filling her eyes. He would be okay, she knew, but she couldn't help worrying with him leaving her presence right now. It couldn't be helped; orders had been given by two higher level Agents. And even if she'd wanted to order him to stay by her side, there wasn't a valid reason for it.
Looking back at the Master, a bright blush filled her cheeks when she realized this would be the first time she'd ever been alone with him. There had been a private moment at the airport before they'd gotten on the jet, but they hadn't really been alone then. Besides that, she felt like something along the line had changed. Certainly, from the first moment she'd met him and learned who he was, she'd been affected by his presence, but lately it had grown to an overpowering level that she couldn't deny. Her heart fluttered nervously and her expression softened to one of a barely restrained awestruck worship as she nodded her head in respect.
"Yes, Master. I would be delighted," she cleared her throat and tucked her hair again, looking away from him when she realized her tone had been a bit more 'swooning' than she'd intended. It didn't seem to be something she could help, however, because when she spoke again, stepping forward to politely follow him, it was a tone she could not shake from her voice. "I would be thrilled with anything you'd like to show me." The tiny smile touching her lips spoke volumes, but even so, when she came up beside him she made absolutely certain to keep her distance. She was not so far gone that she thought she could touch God, afterall...
To say that Ozzie was disappointed would be an understatement. As she pulled up to the curb in front of the charred and abandoned building, her shoulders slumped and the heat that had been buzzing and crackling in the air of the car instantly evaporated as she pouted at the scene. Crap! What a fuckin' waste! And not even a scrap of paper left that would be worth the trouble to set ablaze.
For a few minutes, Alex had a lovely mumbled conversation with himself, which she rolled her eyes at and ignored, but she did pay attention when he made to leave the car. The place was gone, couldn't he see that? There was no use inspecting it for clues that had probably been eaten completely away - and she could feel it. The place was what she called "dead ground". Ozzie had only ever melted rock and metal twice and that had been under extreme circumstances. But other than that, there was nothing here to catch fire, thus, nothing important left to find.
He changed his mind about it however, climbing back into the car to punch in the code for the "next" location. Grinding her teeth silently, the steering wheel squeaked in protest as she gripped it tightly. They were wasting time with this crap! She understood the need for an Agent to get into the place they were keeping Gwen, but this was taking too long! And Alex didn't seem to have any idea of what these places were going to be like before she was driving up to their doorsteps. She didn't know where he'd gotten the addresses from but she couldn't help feeling like it was a wild goose chase taking them away from what they really needed to be doing.
On her own, Osono had caught the attention of Agents much quicker than this. It wasn't exactly something to boast about, especially most of the time it was because she'd lost her temper or lost control, but still, it felt pathetic to hop from one place to the other just to find nobody was home and hadn't been home in ages. Especially when she could get them hopping on their tail within 20 minutes. One time, she'd set a guy's mustache on fire in a tobacco shop in the middle of nowhere and 10 minutes later, Rudy had popped up as if he'd been in the neighborhood.
So, when Alex said that once again, he didn't know if this new place was going to be flammable or not, she smacked the wheel forcefully and glared at him. "Look, twinkle-toes! I don't got all day to fuckin' screw around playing scavenger hunt! And I'm sure Gwen doesn't have all the time in the world either! I'll tell you what we're gonna fuckin' do, Mister Pussy-Footer! IF this next place ain't the place, we're gonna toss your shitty 'playing detective' plan and we're gonna get Agents attention MY way, understand? I'm tired of this bullshit and I may not know where all their burned down fuckin' hideouts are, but you better believe I can get 'em comin' within 5 minutes flat! And don't think I'm fuckin' scared of a mob, Prancer! Skin is flammable too!"
After that, she pressed down hard on the gas pedal and glared out the front window as she sped towards the next destination, fuming again and ready to set fires just for the heck of having something to burn.
Gwen. Gwen was coming here. Just a few more hours stood between her and her precious target, the woman who'd dominated her every thought, every dream, and every breath for four years. And there would be nothing stopping her from having exactly what she wanted from her now, hand delivered and completely defenseless to Stephanie's will. The excitement of this glorious reunion trembled through her as the doors opened and Jason was shoved to the back of her mind as she took a deep breath and stepped forward. As she glanced around the hallway, her eyes sweeping over everything quickly, she chided herself silently when she realized she was already looking for her. It was only after Jason approached one of the first forms laying on the ground that she even became aware that there were corpses in the room. Silently, she stood by and allowed him to do his job, surveying the rest of the lobby in what little light filtered in through the windows, and searching for the Master and Benoit.
When Jason finally spoke, she nodded in agreement and let her gaze sweep carelessly back over the bodies. She would have figured that if Benoit didn't survive then at least Master, even if he hadn't been wearing that massive form, would have had no trouble dealing with a few adversaries. But the question remained, why had they been attacked? Weren't they being expected here? And with Master in their group, it seemed a bit contradictory that there would be any Agents foolish enough to set men on them like this if they even knew who he was.
The sound of Master's voice burst the contemplative bubble she was in and she looked up at his direction, a small, shy smile tugging at the edges of her lips to see that glorious face again. And he was unperturbed as ever - she took that as a good sign, although she found it hard to imagine that smile leaving his face other than to be replaced by an even colder, deadlier grin. The small vision she had of what it would look like made her shiver in brief delight.
Proceeding up the stairs with Jason, she watched with a small giggle of amusement as he slipped on the blood that had been left as a welcome mat, but tried to hide the expression behind a daintily held up hand. Goodness, he was so adorable. With the smell of blood in the air, she was practically feeling amorous and would have struggled to resist jumping him right then, if it weren't for the distracting conversation coming from above. Particularly the sound of another female voice pricked her ears up and her face grew serious as she walked the rest of the way up.
Immediately upon leaving the walkway, Stephanie's eyes zoomed in on the other woman and it took her a few seconds to collect herself. First off, the woman was absolutely gorgeous in that threatening, cold and domineering way that Stephanie herself had tried to achieve - even before she'd gone through a few days of personal hygiene neglect, the woman made her look incredibly soft and fluffy in comparison. She worked those suit pants a lot better than Stephanie did her own and even with the top she was wearing, Stephanie felt it achieved that sophisticated and seductive power that she was probably going for - the untouchable femme fatale.
Even though she was a few years older than Stephanie, she still owned her womanly assets and wielded them with expert experience that made her presence magnetic. Under normal circumstances, Stephanie would have been completely turned off by the shrill note in the woman's voice, but instead it had the opposite effect. To be fair though, it was a tad annoying for her to constantly yell while speaking, but seeing the effect it had on others - whether getting Master to barely hold back his loathing for her, or to reduce Benoit to trying to placate her - it was a very powerful display. Not one Stephanie would have used, personally, preferring to utilize the power of a 'softly spoken word', but for this Madeline person, it worked.
As soon as Master introduced Madeline, stating her rank and name, Stephanie instantly set her shoulders back in a efficient manner and smoothed over her features with what was left of her emotionless mask. There was the air of trying to appear professional in front of this other woman in hopes of impressing her on some level, but she didn't even seem to notice Stephanie or Jason, in favor of chewing Master out. That was the one thing Stephanie was not fond of, along with the sound of her screaming; the blatant disrespect for her idol and the one man in the room who outranked them all, but it did not diminish Madeline's powerful allure.
Apparently, Stephanie and Jason weren't as transparent as she'd assumed, because a second later, Madeline was indicating each of them and issuing orders. At first, Stephanie half-scowled when the A-2 ordered her partner to do anything - despite understanding on a reasonable level that Madeline's authority extended farther than hers, Stephanie still didn't like it - but her expression cleared and she blinked in embarrassment as her own orders were...to bathe. She quickly glanced around at the others but nobody noticed how on the spot she suddenly felt and she resisted the urge to inspect herself to see how bad things had gotten.
It was most certainly something she needed, as she'd made a note of on the plane, her hair falling limp on her shoulders, but she stayed stiff until Madeline had turned to leave, before tucking a few strands that had fallen into her face and been ignored, behind her ears. Great, she'd wanted to make a good impression on the higher ranked and more fashionable woman and here she was looking like a sleaze-ball. The men probably hadn't noticed or cared, but women were aware of these things and they filed it away as a label for the other person. And labels generally stuck once they were made. Hopefully, when she had a chance to clean up a bit, she'd be given a second chance to not look like a completely incompetent slob in front of the other female Agent.
And all too quickly, she felt put on the spot again as the Master addressed her, inviting her to join him for a look at the body tanks. As Jason took his leave however, her attention divided itself for a few moments more to watch him go, concern filling her eyes. He would be okay, she knew, but she couldn't help worrying with him leaving her presence right now. It couldn't be helped; orders had been given by two higher level Agents. And even if she'd wanted to order him to stay by her side, there wasn't a valid reason for it.
Looking back at the Master, a bright blush filled her cheeks when she realized this would be the first time she'd ever been alone with him. There had been a private moment at the airport before they'd gotten on the jet, but they hadn't really been alone then. Besides that, she felt like something along the line had changed. Certainly, from the first moment she'd met him and learned who he was, she'd been affected by his presence, but lately it had grown to an overpowering level that she couldn't deny. Her heart fluttered nervously and her expression softened to one of a barely restrained awestruck worship as she nodded her head in respect.
"Yes, Master. I would be delighted," she cleared her throat and tucked her hair again, looking away from him when she realized her tone had been a bit more 'swooning' than she'd intended. It didn't seem to be something she could help, however, because when she spoke again, stepping forward to politely follow him, it was a tone she could not shake from her voice. "I would be thrilled with anything you'd like to show me." The tiny smile touching her lips spoke volumes, but even so, when she came up beside him she made absolutely certain to keep her distance. She was not so far gone that she thought she could touch God, afterall...
***
She laughed slightly, her raspy voice catching a little in her throat as the nicotine urge pulled at her. "Yeah, yeah, I remember. Gotta keep one of 'em alive to get the codes and blahblahblah. But the rest of 'em can burn though, right?" She smirked playfully and then whooped in triumph as the GPS spoke up.To say that Ozzie was disappointed would be an understatement. As she pulled up to the curb in front of the charred and abandoned building, her shoulders slumped and the heat that had been buzzing and crackling in the air of the car instantly evaporated as she pouted at the scene. Crap! What a fuckin' waste! And not even a scrap of paper left that would be worth the trouble to set ablaze.
For a few minutes, Alex had a lovely mumbled conversation with himself, which she rolled her eyes at and ignored, but she did pay attention when he made to leave the car. The place was gone, couldn't he see that? There was no use inspecting it for clues that had probably been eaten completely away - and she could feel it. The place was what she called "dead ground". Ozzie had only ever melted rock and metal twice and that had been under extreme circumstances. But other than that, there was nothing here to catch fire, thus, nothing important left to find.
He changed his mind about it however, climbing back into the car to punch in the code for the "next" location. Grinding her teeth silently, the steering wheel squeaked in protest as she gripped it tightly. They were wasting time with this crap! She understood the need for an Agent to get into the place they were keeping Gwen, but this was taking too long! And Alex didn't seem to have any idea of what these places were going to be like before she was driving up to their doorsteps. She didn't know where he'd gotten the addresses from but she couldn't help feeling like it was a wild goose chase taking them away from what they really needed to be doing.
On her own, Osono had caught the attention of Agents much quicker than this. It wasn't exactly something to boast about, especially most of the time it was because she'd lost her temper or lost control, but still, it felt pathetic to hop from one place to the other just to find nobody was home and hadn't been home in ages. Especially when she could get them hopping on their tail within 20 minutes. One time, she'd set a guy's mustache on fire in a tobacco shop in the middle of nowhere and 10 minutes later, Rudy had popped up as if he'd been in the neighborhood.
So, when Alex said that once again, he didn't know if this new place was going to be flammable or not, she smacked the wheel forcefully and glared at him. "Look, twinkle-toes! I don't got all day to fuckin' screw around playing scavenger hunt! And I'm sure Gwen doesn't have all the time in the world either! I'll tell you what we're gonna fuckin' do, Mister Pussy-Footer! IF this next place ain't the place, we're gonna toss your shitty 'playing detective' plan and we're gonna get Agents attention MY way, understand? I'm tired of this bullshit and I may not know where all their burned down fuckin' hideouts are, but you better believe I can get 'em comin' within 5 minutes flat! And don't think I'm fuckin' scared of a mob, Prancer! Skin is flammable too!"
After that, she pressed down hard on the gas pedal and glared out the front window as she sped towards the next destination, fuming again and ready to set fires just for the heck of having something to burn.
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Fri Nov 05, 2010 9:08 am
Jason was on edge by the time he reached the bottom. It didn’t hit him until then how utterly useless he’d be down here. What was he supposed to do? Stand watch? Guard the door? From what? Obviously the answer was Alexander and whoever else he brought along to rain destruction on their heads, but that made this even stupider. Twice, Jason had been taken down by him, and considering the second time had been while he was watching Alexander like a hawk, the problem was more than the element of surprise. So maybe Eric – and the new A-2 – wanted him here to meet Rudy, except that didn’t make sense because it seemed unlikely she would’ve known about that part of their situation. She might’ve been told while he’d been... indisposed... but lead Agents played their cases directly against their hearts. If knowing lacked a dire consequence, no one else in the world would have any idea about what was happening. Besides, Quin could drag the bitch-thief up here himself. He might’ve had a problem with getting his own target captured, but Jason had the feeling he wasn’t blind.
This left him with two reasons for why he’d been kicked out of the sight of the others: either they’d put him here because they didn’t want to sully their presence with a lowly A-6 – and that was ridiculous too, because as far as ranks went in the Agency, being an A-6 had him in the upper level of staff – or there was actually a point to it that they’d simply hadn’t bothered explaining. Okay. That sounded better. He might’ve been out of the loop if it was true, but it meant they hadn’t forgotten he could still do his job. When the suit came off, it’d be a different story, but for now he brought something to the table.
Part of him was hoping Eric’d forget about the whole thing. It didn’t feel impossible, but those levels weren’t known to let things slip their mind. Ever.
Waiting. Waiting. Waiting... He glanced up at the walkway bordering the second level, but everyone had left already. Of course. Abandoned. He shouldn’t have had anything to say about it because he’d have no choice to run off with A-1 if he’d asked, but she didn’t have to be so damn giddy to go along. If there was another reason for him to hate being dumped at the door, it was the time he had to overanalyze everything. He’d focus on the neatly crippled corpses still lying on the ground. Was Eric actually going to... keep that, the one that’d been smothered instead of stabbed? How often did he need to change over, if ever? Those were questions he couldn’t ask if –
“Jason! Bro! No way – what th’heck’re you doin’ here?” A flood of Doritos came over him, wafting around his head like an ocean of... grease, and because suddenly everyone had the knack of sneaking up on him – the withdrawal was a nightmare – he was crushed around his chest and lifted off his feet and swung around like a maniac gorilla had gotten out of its cage – “You owe me those hugs!”
“Gary, put me the fuck down before I rip off your asshole head!”
Gary let go and dropped him, and Jason in his weak state fell immediately to the floor.
“My bad, bud,” he huffed out, in a merry way that nearly mimicked Eric’s glee – except stupid. “Where’ve you been? I lost the link to you two days ago! Don’t tell me you got all pissy ‘bout that ‘system reset’ –” Air quotes. “– thing-a-ma-deal. You wanted it.” Jason. Would. Kill. Him. “Hey – stop –”
With a slam that echoed through the floor, Jason grabbed that oily fucking sweater and hurled the guy into the door – the ones he should’ve come in through but hadn’t. Why did everyone know more about everything than he did when he was the person who was supposed to have the answers?
“You stupid shit,” he snarled. “I can’t even begin to explain how much crap you’ve dragged me through. Do you have any idea what’s been happening to me?”
“... Uh... no... ‘cause I lost the link,” Gary said, his mouth screwed into a tightly-balled frown. “Two days ago. I said that, right?” Jason drew him back just slam down again. “Bro – quit it!”
“You’re unbelievable! Why in fuck would I ever tell you to reset the system – my system, the one I’ve been fucking building for years like it was my goddamn child?”
“You okay, Jay? You’re lookin’ a little...” Gary barely noticed the fact he was being against a wall. The blubber must’ve cushioned it or something. “... crazy...”
“Answer the question!”
“Okay, okay! Geez! I told you I didn’t want you freaking out after you made me do it.” He shuffled around and grabbed at the black side bag, or blue or green or whatever the hell colour it would’ve been in normal light, and dug out a few sheets of paper. They were clean up until the instant that man’s hands touched them, and then a sheeny outline of where his fingers had been spread across them. “Here. Your orders. I did everything I was supposed to.”
‘Everything’, his ass. Jason let go of him and snatched the sheets away, stepping towards the windowed doors and using all the daylight he could grab to read it. Not five seconds had ticked by before he was back to shoving Gary into a corner again.
“You retard. How long have you known me? ‘OMG’? ‘You’re my angel’? Fucking ‘hugs’? When the fuck have I said that back to you before?”
“I just figured you were being friendly,” he said. “That, or you were in a good mood. Hey – somethin’ was going on if you were asking me to reset the system.”
“You’re an absolute fucking idiot,” Jason snapped, letting go of him again. “You have no idea the shit you did.”
“Uh – yeah? Which is kind’f why I’m tripping out about you manhandling me? Bro, I just got here,” he said. He started adjusting the strap of his bag as if that was what was out of place in his wardrobe. “Cut me slack. What’s happening?”
“What’s happening...”
Jason trailed off and shook his head. There was no point in explaining anything to him: the guy wouldn’t get it, wouldn’t care, couldn’t change it, and that wasn’t what had lost him the suit in the first place. Fucking Gwen... He would’ve been in a better state of mind if he’d never lost his goggles and that might’ve been the difference between telling that kid to screw off and what had actually happened. Hell – maybe he would’ve even had the sense to fall to the ground before his lead showed up and pull a weak ‘Oh, no, my head hurts real bad, I guess Alexander got me again, oh well’. She would’ve seen through it, but the risk of getting caught trumped getting caught for sure. Still, his target wouldn’t have gotten his goggles if she hadn’t stolen them, which she wouldn’t have stolen if Alexander hadn’t taken them, which he wouldn’t have taken if he hadn’t gotten involved, which he wouldn’t have bothered with if Gary hadn’t sent him to the wrong damn room.
It was hard to believe it’d only been three days. It felt like a lifetime that he’d been back at base, talking to this guy about his anniversary. Gary had beady eyes that lit up behind ‘practical over fashionable’ glasses – Eric’s had style, so it wasn’t as if it couldn’t be done – and a round, bulgy face that hung covered in slight sweat at all times and a beard that ran from cheek to cheek to double chin to neck. There were awkward sideburns on either side of his face and glistening, lanky, long, blond hair that’d lazily been pulled into some kind of a ponytail. He wasn’t the best looking person in the world or the galaxy and there probably some ants crawling around his feet that had more sex appeal than he did, but Diana liked him enough to stay with him for twelve years. That said something, Jason supposed. And he had to put the emphasis on what Gary’s head looked like because the rest of him was summed up in three words: sweater, jeans, sneakers. Nothing else.
“So... am I still in trouble?”
The way Gary phrased the question was foreign at first. It took Jason a minute to realize that, for once, at long last, he was in the presence of someone who was under him. Until he’d been on this case, he’d never even seen an A-2 and had only glimpsed A-3s as they sped by, let alone walk around and chat with two of them plus an A-1. In that short instant, Jason forgave him long enough to settle into the lost feeling of authority, then he went back into his anger and shot a fiery, “Yes.”
“Oh.” And he didn’t care. So much for rank meaning anything. If he couldn’t scare an A-10... “So – uh... you called me down here. What’d’ya need?”
“Huh?”
“You called? I got orders to come down and meet you here,” Gary said. “I heard they came from pretty high up. Dude – did you know there’s an A-1 walking around here?”
“Huh – uh – yeah. Yeah, I know. Eric. He’s upstairs.” Somewhere.
“Wait – Eric Patten? You saw him?” Gary’s jaw flew open. Right – Eric was a big deal. The novelty wore off a little after Jason’d been flying on a plane with him, trying to shut him up about what was happening between him and his lead. “Did you talk to him? What’s he like? Bro – you gotta get me over there!”
“Calm down, Gary. He’s with my lead,” Jason said. “They’re talking about... lead stuff.”
And now Gary’s voice got low, burning with interest.
“You mean...” His nacho breath had always been his biggest flaw. “They’re talking about the transfer stuff?”
“Yeah.”
“Dude.” He started laughing. “Dude. Unreal! Un-flipping-real, bro – I’m serious! So – what – you’re sayin’... all this is legit?”
“Of course it is,” Jason said. “You’ve heard about it.”
“I’ve heard about parts of it,” Gary corrected. “Everyone’s heard parts of it. And don’t look at me like it was obvious – you were the biggest sceptic ‘til you got assigned a case for it, and even then you still whined about it being a waste of time.”
Again, it felt like forever ago. Yeah, Jason had thought it was all bullshit, up until he’d been given a seizure and had someone’s mind going through his thoughts. Oh, and after he saw Eric’s cloud-death-zombie trick. There was nothing he wouldn’t believe from now until he landed in his grave.
“It’s real. Trust me.”
“No way. No way, no way, no way.” At least there was one person thought it was cool. “You think you can get me in on this? I'm not saying I’m not already great, but I wouldn’t mind a few bones made out of metal.”
“If that’s all you want, there’s surgery. And no, I can’t ‘get you in’. You have to be trained. You have to be a lead.”
“You’re almost a lead. A-4 when this is over, probably. Can I help you get your guy?”
Why the hell did Gary have to be here?
“I’m not an A-4. I...” The word stuck in his throat for a moment. “I got demoted. A-6.”
“Oh...”
“Oh.”
Gary fiddled with the strap of his bag. Then his face picked up and he asked, “Does that mean I don’t have to fix your suit?”
“Gary, dammit –”
“Are you still my boss if you’re an A-6?”
“I’ll break your face,” Jason warned him. It shut him up. “That’s all... little stuff I’ll sort out later. For now, my problem’s how to handle losing everything.”
“The withdrawal! Of course! Duh! That’s why you’re psycho,” Gary said. “Y’know, they’ve got drugs to help that out.” Yes, he knew that, too. He still had them in his pocket. He could feel the outline of the box pressing into his side. “So what’d you get demoted for?”
“Letting my target go.” That sounded atrocious. “Not ‘let her go’ – and it wasn’t just her. Alexander was there.”
“He was?”
Did Gary have even the tiniest clue?
“He got dragged into this because somebody gave me the wrong apartment number.” That squishy mouth rolled into an awkward ‘o’. “He’s... I don’t know. He’s in love with my target or something, but whatever it is, he’s been following her around. It’s cute in a messed up way. Anyway, she and him broke into the Elmira lab and went on a spree in there. He killed the last guy on Benoit’s team on –”
“Who?”
“The lead on Alexander’s case.”
“Holy shit –”
Yeah, yeah, everyone was a legend.
“Anyway, he did a charge thing that blew his eyes apart, and then some kid comes from down the hall and tells me – get this – he tells me to let them go, but in this weird... authority voice, like I had no choice but to believe him.”
“Maybe it was one of those crazy powers,” Gary said.
... That was possible. That was very, very possible.
“That could be it. ... That is it.”
Eric hadn’t said a thing about that ‘project’ because it was confidential, and the only reason Jason had let the kid go was because it felt as if he should. Withdrawal aside, he knew he had enough common sense to belay that request. He should’ve, unless that project had a power... Why wouldn’t it? Why was that even remotely improbable? That was his answer! He hadn’t been stupid – he’d been possessed!
... Except that he had zero proof. Fuck. Thanks, Gary, for getting his hopes up. There weren’t any security cameras in the lab halls and he hadn’t had his goggles on so he couldn’t record it. The Flunky’s magic lenses supposedly could, but they’d melted along with the rest of him. How darling.
“How in heck did they get into Elmira into the first place? What happened to security?”
“It was part of a plan,” Jason muttered. “Stephanie – my lead – she’s... There’s something in the works. I don’t want to explain it.”
“But they’d need codes,” Gary pressed. “How would they get the codes?”
“From my head. My target’s got telepathy. She was in her hotel, I was on my way to Elmira –”
“More than a mile apart?” Jason frowned. That meant ‘yes’. “Bro, I peeked at your little ‘profile’ thing – and then I memorized it ‘cause she was hot so don’t tell Di-Di – and I distinctly remember it saying she only had about a mile of minds to work with.”
“Yes, except that it failed to mention she can use technology to... look – I don’t know how it works,” he huffed. “She had my goggles, she used those to –”
“She had them?”
His constant interrupting was grating on Jason. He grit his teeth.
“Yes, she had my goggles –”
“So she reset them?”
“Yes, she reset them –”
“Bummer, bro. But at least it’s good intel.” Gary shrugged. “From the reset up to you snatchin’ ‘em back, you’re sittin’ on serious insider recon stuff.” Jason frowned again. Now it mean ‘what?’ “From the goggles.” He wasn’t following. “How they record everything?”
“That would’ve been great, except that I set my goggles to not record,” he said. More hope building. He hated it. “I don’t like knowing someone can re-watch my every move.”
“Yeah, but it’s a default setting. You turned it off, but the system reset turned it on, so if you...”
Gary kept talking, but Jason couldn’t hear him over the angel chorus. Fuck. Yes. Finally! Something in his favour – halleluiah – this was incredible! Gary was right – which was impressive on its own but – fuck yes! If the goggles had been reset, they’d gone back to the default, and since the Agency had to keep tabs on everything, auto-record was a start-up setting, which meant that even if he hadn’t been wearing the goggles, they’d still been working for him! Sure – he’d only have the audio if they'd been looking away, but the audio was point! He could show Eric what’d happened down there and then they’d see – and then they’d stop – and then they’d –
“You –” Jason grabbed Gary’s head between his gloves and forced him to look into his eyes. If he’d been Alexander, Gary would be dead by now. Instead, Jason was killing him with gratitude. “– are my angel!”
“See? I knew you talked like that,” Gary grumped, but he beamed happily. “Glad I could help, and good to know I know your suit better’n you do.”
“My angel, Gary!” With his energy fully restored, Jason bounded to the stairs, started flying up them – “I completely forgive you for the wrong number thing!”
“Great! Thanks! I’ll – uh... I’ll wait here. Go get ‘em, tiger!”
He had to find his lead. He had to find Eric. His goggles were around his neck and as light and free as they damn well should’ve been, and he was ecstatic to find his suit slowly reforming its body with his entire being. Where were they? Talking? He was interrupting. This was too important to wait.
Five minutes flat sounds good. Let’s do that.
“That involves killing someone,” Alex mumbled. “That’s what I’m trying to avoid.”
Would you stop? I don’t know what’s got you so self-righteous, but it’s really annoying. ‘Self-righteous’? Because he wanted to use a different tactic than ‘set everything on fire, who cares as long as it gets us what we want’? Uh – yeah?
“We’re going to find another way.”
Whatever.
“We don’t even know –” He stopped. He shouldn’t be chatting like this. It was a question he should’ve been putting to Osono anyway. “I get that you’ve got this ‘gift’ at getting Agents to swarm around you, but you’re forgetting two things: one, we’re only two people and my foot’s not getting any better to fight, and two, the reason you’re so good at getting them is because Rudy spent his time stalking you. If he’s gone with Gwen, who’s to say he’s paying attention anymore? He’s got one of you, he’s happy as a calm, he’s probably off to get his reward and then never come back. He’s probably glad to get rid of you, lunatic.”
If I hands, I’d be clapping in awe, because I could truly never be as heartless as you. And I’m the guy who’s trained at kicking puppies across a room.
“Great. What’s the problem now?”
You’d think the whole ‘I know he’s trying to kill me but I can’t quite seem to work up the nerve to kill him back’ thing would set you just a teeny bit more sensitive than normal. Hell – I don’t care – but as long as you’re still carting me around, I’d prefer to get into my body before she breaks down or flies into a hellish rage ‘cause you said the wrong thing. Coffee.
“No more coffee.”
Alex felt a tingle at his foot, followed by a stern and mildly depraved, Coffee.
Alex drank the stupid coffee.
“You’d be better off without him, by the way.”
Xander stopped. He’d been in the middle of saying something and he’d stopped. Seriously? He wanted Alex to talk? For what, to apologize? He hadn’t said anything!
Pussy.
“I didn’t –”
“Rudy’s a whiny bitch who shot an old guy in the bathroom. I don’t know what spell he’s got you under or what crazy act he’s pulled off year after year keeping you convinced he’s better than nothing, but if I had to choose, and I’m close to that decision, I’d sure as hell want to be on my own than with a guy who oozes sleeze.” Xander shrugged. “You can do better, Sparky. What’re fire powers for if not to get laid by someone who doesn’t suck ass? ... Or – uh... if that’s what you’re into...”
Charming.
Beats ‘he’s gonna dump your ass’. Dickwad.
Alex shut him up by drinking more coffee. He kept drinking it, as slowly as he could with the junkie tugging at his hand to tip it faster and his hand trembling from jitters that hadn’t come close to wearing off, and it lasted until he saw the arrow come nose-to-nose with their new star. Sure enough, there was the gas station, and there, after a fifteen minute drive and some silence, was an office building – a real one. It didn’t look abandoned and it didn’t seem worn down, but it was empty. It was Saturday so that was to be expected, but that meant no casualties.
Other than a few unlucky janitors.
Then that was a ‘no’ to fire.
Forget I said anything?
“We’re not burning it down.”
Then how the hell do you expect this to work?
Alex thought about it.
“The lawn. We can torch the lawn or the outside. I just don’t want anyone innocent to get killed.”
Boo-hoo, crossfire is sad, but so’s running for our lives and – oh, yeah – trying to get Gwen back.
“We’ll figure something out. Stop here,” Alex said. “We’ll walk the rest of the way.”
Jason hadn’t missed much, he realized. With the way they must’ve been strolling and the way he’d been running – he got turned around once or twice but he found the room they were in – he’d barely lost more than a minute, and if that...
He stopped. Breathless but silent and fading from of sight out pure reflex he couldn’t acknowledge until the feeling sunk in. This room was the size of a classroom and a half. Its door was a heavy metal slider that took either a special pass or the brute force of a recently reincarnated Frenchman. The room was dark, and while that shouldn’t have been a surprise because the hallways and the unused offices were lightless as well – the tiny glimmer of occupied rooms had been what had guided him so far – there was a stronger sense of night welling up. It might have had to do with the deep red glow stirring from its center. It might have been the very solemn stance Eric had as he looked upon his prizes. Mostly, however, Jason saw that the eeriness came from the four giant jars filled with red liquid and people.
Two men, two women, all of them stripped and clamped in place. Their eyes were closed and their hair floated around them, tossed slightly by the air bubbles swirling up. On each of their mouths was a dark mask attached to a hose, and that hose turned down and stuck into the bottom of the glass container. Stasis cells, all on dark stands about a foot and a half high. Enormous wires poured from the ceiling and connected to their tops, burning that gentle shade of fire as it caught the light falling out. The colour meant something. They were supposed to be green, weren’t they? He wasn’t versed on things like that.
They hadn’t noticed him. He’d faded in the nick of time. Despite the energy inside him, he forced it into a duller excited rush. His intent to interrupt had vanished at the first step of the A-1 towards the cells, so he hung back and kept close to the door, listening intently to sound of the man’s footsteps and the invisible hum of frozen life inside the jars.
“These four bodies belong to Agents,” Eric’s voice flowed. It echoed in the emptiness, stronger than it’d been on the plane and in Elmira. Was that because of the acoustics, or was there a scent he’d picked up? “All of them have very interesting stories. They’re successes, first of all, but they’re also traitors to what you stand for.”
He’d reached the second to the left and stood before it, then let his hand rise and nestle fondly on the cell’s surface. Underneath his touch, the glass seemed to shiver, and the feeling of solemnity spread out and danced. Through the reflection, Jason could see that smile of his still firmly in place, but now it held a softness, something new. There was peace across his face as he stared up at the sleeping eyes, as if he hadn’t truly belonged anywhere except here in this room with it.
“On the far right is Arthur. He picked a target with time control. He never could get it working properly, fortunately, but we had our hands full bringing him in. He was gone for four months, three days and twenty-two hours. He stopped because he turned himself in. I can’t imagine why he thought he’d be welcomed back.” Eric’s voice was hypnotically low. He was playful in the way he spoke, but content to share his world with Jason’s lead. This was a glimpse into something that wasn’t normally seen and here they were, having it explained. “Jillian, to his left, had the same idea. She couldn’t bare the thought of betraying us. She and her great strength were out of reach for two months and a day. At least she was smarter about her return. She came to us with information on the inner workings of their group. She sought me out, actually, because she knew I’d want to hear it, and I thanked her – really – but I can’t forgive that. She screamed the entire time she was placed into stasis. You can see it now if you try. She’s still angry.”
He said it like it was a joke. Jason, reunited with his equipment, zoomed in. Although the others’ faces were relaxed and accepting of their fate, Jillian’s brow was slightly furrowed as if there’d been a pain pinching her. To have kept it up for however long she’d been inside must’ve meant her fury was unbreakable. Jason wasn’t going near her.
“Sebastian – to my left – had speed. He fell in a panic when we had him surrounded. I think Benoit led that return. This one too, actually.” The one he’d had his hand on. Again, a shiver fanned out. “He decided he wasn’t going to come easy. No – he’d found ‘morality’ and the beauty of innocent life. He’d ‘awakened’ to find what we did to be evil. He was disgusted, and although he’d been thrilled to use our technology to further our insidious work, the hypocrite was going to spend the rest of his life fighting us to bring us down.” The smile in the reflection grew proud. “He lasted two days. I laughed in his face when he showed up. I and another A-1 watched the entire thing go on.”
His voice swam to a whisper. His fingers bent along the cell he’d placed them against and his nails clinked as they struck the surface. It was like he was trying to reach through to it, to the last woman in the centre of the group.
“This is Charlotte. This is her original body. She was the worst one. She had regeneration – the thing I’d always envied. Before I became an A-1 – long before the other three were captured – this was the power I was going to get. It was only fair, I thought, because the target was male and she was female, but she devised the brilliant idea of having a contest to see who won. It was her.” Clink. Clink. Clink. He was drumming his fingers on it now, letting the sharp sound pierce through the fog he’d lulled them into. “She’d thought she’d live an amazing life. She’d thought she was invincible. She’d thought she knew how to tear the Agency to pieces – not for some high moral glory, but because she didn’t want ‘us’ to become a threat to what she was trying to do. She wanted freedom to reign supreme and she’d come up with the very organization all three of the others had run off to. They’re called the ‘Anti-Agents’ – how very clever – and they’ve been a thorn in our side from the day they’d formed. With her at the helm, they dissected every one of our weaknesses and used it against us. I can’t tell you how in awe I was of her.”
Eric stepped back and looked at the cell. It was true: the man was in awe of her. It shone from his face unignorably, and though his back was turned towards them, the undaunted wonder could not be mistaken. Jason couldn’t turn away.
“Charlotte was more like me than any person I’ve ever met. We shared something: detachment from our work. We had missions and we fulfilled them because that was what was expected. We didn’t argue about what was right or what was wrong; we did and we did it beyond anyone else’s ability. She became the Agency’s priority because they feared her Anti-Agents would swarm to oppose the nasty things we deal in. Her entire army was built out of the people we were meant to capture to ensure the safety of the public. They didn’t understand what she was trying to do. I did.” Finally, he turned to Jason’s lead, giving her his smile rather than the other woman in the jar. “As she spread her word about the good fight against us, more and more gifted citizens joined and sat at her feet. The last I heard, she had two hundred abilities at her fingertips, all of them hanging off of what she said. She only had to point and they’d jump to serve her, and that, Miss March, was exactly what the Agency had asked for. ‘To the best of our ability, beyond anyone else’s’. We take over to bend one person’s strength to our will, and here she had a village.
“Her confidence got the best of her. As powerful as those people made her grow, they weren’t trained and scattered when we launched our full assault. With only her regeneration to help her, she put up an immaculate fight, but we got her and we brought her in. And now here she is, defeated.” He paused. “There’s no doubt that she’d hit the height of brilliance. If she’d been dealing with soldiers instead of skittish vigilante-rebels, we wouldn’t have been able to touch her. I’ve learned from that. I plan to turn her work into my work. I won’t give you the details because you don’t need them: that boy in Elmira? The one you saw? He’s Charlotte’s legacy, built by me in her name, trained, contained and indestructible.” The corner of his mouth twitched – down, and in annoyance. “I’ve hit a snag. I’ll get it sorted out eventually – I have time, damn near eternity save for an asteroid falling from the sky – but for now I’m here to focus on you. Maybe I – uh... went off on a tangent there. I dunno – it seemed like something worth talking about. It’s practically my purpose in life. But as it relates to you, Steph...” He gestured to the other jars. “These guys are what I wanted to show you.”
The solemnity receded. The air was getting back to normal.
“I’ve got high hopes for you. You’re dedicated and you’re smart and you’re willing to make this work, but so did those three, seconds before they got what they wanted and defected to those asshole Antis. There’s no point in getting you to promise you ‘won’t do that’. If you won’t, you won’t, but if you do, I’ll find you.” He gestured again. “And then you’ll be up there with the rest of them and I’ll spend the next week destroying your name. I’d be... well – I’d be sorry to have to do that. Benny – sure – no problem – but you.” Eric grinned. “Please don’t run off to the Anti-Agents. It won’t be fun when I drag you back. For you. Not me.”
This left him with two reasons for why he’d been kicked out of the sight of the others: either they’d put him here because they didn’t want to sully their presence with a lowly A-6 – and that was ridiculous too, because as far as ranks went in the Agency, being an A-6 had him in the upper level of staff – or there was actually a point to it that they’d simply hadn’t bothered explaining. Okay. That sounded better. He might’ve been out of the loop if it was true, but it meant they hadn’t forgotten he could still do his job. When the suit came off, it’d be a different story, but for now he brought something to the table.
Part of him was hoping Eric’d forget about the whole thing. It didn’t feel impossible, but those levels weren’t known to let things slip their mind. Ever.
Waiting. Waiting. Waiting... He glanced up at the walkway bordering the second level, but everyone had left already. Of course. Abandoned. He shouldn’t have had anything to say about it because he’d have no choice to run off with A-1 if he’d asked, but she didn’t have to be so damn giddy to go along. If there was another reason for him to hate being dumped at the door, it was the time he had to overanalyze everything. He’d focus on the neatly crippled corpses still lying on the ground. Was Eric actually going to... keep that, the one that’d been smothered instead of stabbed? How often did he need to change over, if ever? Those were questions he couldn’t ask if –
“Jason! Bro! No way – what th’heck’re you doin’ here?” A flood of Doritos came over him, wafting around his head like an ocean of... grease, and because suddenly everyone had the knack of sneaking up on him – the withdrawal was a nightmare – he was crushed around his chest and lifted off his feet and swung around like a maniac gorilla had gotten out of its cage – “You owe me those hugs!”
“Gary, put me the fuck down before I rip off your asshole head!”
Gary let go and dropped him, and Jason in his weak state fell immediately to the floor.
“My bad, bud,” he huffed out, in a merry way that nearly mimicked Eric’s glee – except stupid. “Where’ve you been? I lost the link to you two days ago! Don’t tell me you got all pissy ‘bout that ‘system reset’ –” Air quotes. “– thing-a-ma-deal. You wanted it.” Jason. Would. Kill. Him. “Hey – stop –”
With a slam that echoed through the floor, Jason grabbed that oily fucking sweater and hurled the guy into the door – the ones he should’ve come in through but hadn’t. Why did everyone know more about everything than he did when he was the person who was supposed to have the answers?
“You stupid shit,” he snarled. “I can’t even begin to explain how much crap you’ve dragged me through. Do you have any idea what’s been happening to me?”
“... Uh... no... ‘cause I lost the link,” Gary said, his mouth screwed into a tightly-balled frown. “Two days ago. I said that, right?” Jason drew him back just slam down again. “Bro – quit it!”
“You’re unbelievable! Why in fuck would I ever tell you to reset the system – my system, the one I’ve been fucking building for years like it was my goddamn child?”
“You okay, Jay? You’re lookin’ a little...” Gary barely noticed the fact he was being against a wall. The blubber must’ve cushioned it or something. “... crazy...”
“Answer the question!”
“Okay, okay! Geez! I told you I didn’t want you freaking out after you made me do it.” He shuffled around and grabbed at the black side bag, or blue or green or whatever the hell colour it would’ve been in normal light, and dug out a few sheets of paper. They were clean up until the instant that man’s hands touched them, and then a sheeny outline of where his fingers had been spread across them. “Here. Your orders. I did everything I was supposed to.”
‘Everything’, his ass. Jason let go of him and snatched the sheets away, stepping towards the windowed doors and using all the daylight he could grab to read it. Not five seconds had ticked by before he was back to shoving Gary into a corner again.
“You retard. How long have you known me? ‘OMG’? ‘You’re my angel’? Fucking ‘hugs’? When the fuck have I said that back to you before?”
“I just figured you were being friendly,” he said. “That, or you were in a good mood. Hey – somethin’ was going on if you were asking me to reset the system.”
“You’re an absolute fucking idiot,” Jason snapped, letting go of him again. “You have no idea the shit you did.”
“Uh – yeah? Which is kind’f why I’m tripping out about you manhandling me? Bro, I just got here,” he said. He started adjusting the strap of his bag as if that was what was out of place in his wardrobe. “Cut me slack. What’s happening?”
“What’s happening...”
Jason trailed off and shook his head. There was no point in explaining anything to him: the guy wouldn’t get it, wouldn’t care, couldn’t change it, and that wasn’t what had lost him the suit in the first place. Fucking Gwen... He would’ve been in a better state of mind if he’d never lost his goggles and that might’ve been the difference between telling that kid to screw off and what had actually happened. Hell – maybe he would’ve even had the sense to fall to the ground before his lead showed up and pull a weak ‘Oh, no, my head hurts real bad, I guess Alexander got me again, oh well’. She would’ve seen through it, but the risk of getting caught trumped getting caught for sure. Still, his target wouldn’t have gotten his goggles if she hadn’t stolen them, which she wouldn’t have stolen if Alexander hadn’t taken them, which he wouldn’t have taken if he hadn’t gotten involved, which he wouldn’t have bothered with if Gary hadn’t sent him to the wrong damn room.
It was hard to believe it’d only been three days. It felt like a lifetime that he’d been back at base, talking to this guy about his anniversary. Gary had beady eyes that lit up behind ‘practical over fashionable’ glasses – Eric’s had style, so it wasn’t as if it couldn’t be done – and a round, bulgy face that hung covered in slight sweat at all times and a beard that ran from cheek to cheek to double chin to neck. There were awkward sideburns on either side of his face and glistening, lanky, long, blond hair that’d lazily been pulled into some kind of a ponytail. He wasn’t the best looking person in the world or the galaxy and there probably some ants crawling around his feet that had more sex appeal than he did, but Diana liked him enough to stay with him for twelve years. That said something, Jason supposed. And he had to put the emphasis on what Gary’s head looked like because the rest of him was summed up in three words: sweater, jeans, sneakers. Nothing else.
“So... am I still in trouble?”
The way Gary phrased the question was foreign at first. It took Jason a minute to realize that, for once, at long last, he was in the presence of someone who was under him. Until he’d been on this case, he’d never even seen an A-2 and had only glimpsed A-3s as they sped by, let alone walk around and chat with two of them plus an A-1. In that short instant, Jason forgave him long enough to settle into the lost feeling of authority, then he went back into his anger and shot a fiery, “Yes.”
“Oh.” And he didn’t care. So much for rank meaning anything. If he couldn’t scare an A-10... “So – uh... you called me down here. What’d’ya need?”
“Huh?”
“You called? I got orders to come down and meet you here,” Gary said. “I heard they came from pretty high up. Dude – did you know there’s an A-1 walking around here?”
“Huh – uh – yeah. Yeah, I know. Eric. He’s upstairs.” Somewhere.
“Wait – Eric Patten? You saw him?” Gary’s jaw flew open. Right – Eric was a big deal. The novelty wore off a little after Jason’d been flying on a plane with him, trying to shut him up about what was happening between him and his lead. “Did you talk to him? What’s he like? Bro – you gotta get me over there!”
“Calm down, Gary. He’s with my lead,” Jason said. “They’re talking about... lead stuff.”
And now Gary’s voice got low, burning with interest.
“You mean...” His nacho breath had always been his biggest flaw. “They’re talking about the transfer stuff?”
“Yeah.”
“Dude.” He started laughing. “Dude. Unreal! Un-flipping-real, bro – I’m serious! So – what – you’re sayin’... all this is legit?”
“Of course it is,” Jason said. “You’ve heard about it.”
“I’ve heard about parts of it,” Gary corrected. “Everyone’s heard parts of it. And don’t look at me like it was obvious – you were the biggest sceptic ‘til you got assigned a case for it, and even then you still whined about it being a waste of time.”
Again, it felt like forever ago. Yeah, Jason had thought it was all bullshit, up until he’d been given a seizure and had someone’s mind going through his thoughts. Oh, and after he saw Eric’s cloud-death-zombie trick. There was nothing he wouldn’t believe from now until he landed in his grave.
“It’s real. Trust me.”
“No way. No way, no way, no way.” At least there was one person thought it was cool. “You think you can get me in on this? I'm not saying I’m not already great, but I wouldn’t mind a few bones made out of metal.”
“If that’s all you want, there’s surgery. And no, I can’t ‘get you in’. You have to be trained. You have to be a lead.”
“You’re almost a lead. A-4 when this is over, probably. Can I help you get your guy?”
Why the hell did Gary have to be here?
“I’m not an A-4. I...” The word stuck in his throat for a moment. “I got demoted. A-6.”
“Oh...”
“Oh.”
Gary fiddled with the strap of his bag. Then his face picked up and he asked, “Does that mean I don’t have to fix your suit?”
“Gary, dammit –”
“Are you still my boss if you’re an A-6?”
“I’ll break your face,” Jason warned him. It shut him up. “That’s all... little stuff I’ll sort out later. For now, my problem’s how to handle losing everything.”
“The withdrawal! Of course! Duh! That’s why you’re psycho,” Gary said. “Y’know, they’ve got drugs to help that out.” Yes, he knew that, too. He still had them in his pocket. He could feel the outline of the box pressing into his side. “So what’d you get demoted for?”
“Letting my target go.” That sounded atrocious. “Not ‘let her go’ – and it wasn’t just her. Alexander was there.”
“He was?”
Did Gary have even the tiniest clue?
“He got dragged into this because somebody gave me the wrong apartment number.” That squishy mouth rolled into an awkward ‘o’. “He’s... I don’t know. He’s in love with my target or something, but whatever it is, he’s been following her around. It’s cute in a messed up way. Anyway, she and him broke into the Elmira lab and went on a spree in there. He killed the last guy on Benoit’s team on –”
“Who?”
“The lead on Alexander’s case.”
“Holy shit –”
Yeah, yeah, everyone was a legend.
“Anyway, he did a charge thing that blew his eyes apart, and then some kid comes from down the hall and tells me – get this – he tells me to let them go, but in this weird... authority voice, like I had no choice but to believe him.”
“Maybe it was one of those crazy powers,” Gary said.
... That was possible. That was very, very possible.
“That could be it. ... That is it.”
Eric hadn’t said a thing about that ‘project’ because it was confidential, and the only reason Jason had let the kid go was because it felt as if he should. Withdrawal aside, he knew he had enough common sense to belay that request. He should’ve, unless that project had a power... Why wouldn’t it? Why was that even remotely improbable? That was his answer! He hadn’t been stupid – he’d been possessed!
... Except that he had zero proof. Fuck. Thanks, Gary, for getting his hopes up. There weren’t any security cameras in the lab halls and he hadn’t had his goggles on so he couldn’t record it. The Flunky’s magic lenses supposedly could, but they’d melted along with the rest of him. How darling.
“How in heck did they get into Elmira into the first place? What happened to security?”
“It was part of a plan,” Jason muttered. “Stephanie – my lead – she’s... There’s something in the works. I don’t want to explain it.”
“But they’d need codes,” Gary pressed. “How would they get the codes?”
“From my head. My target’s got telepathy. She was in her hotel, I was on my way to Elmira –”
“More than a mile apart?” Jason frowned. That meant ‘yes’. “Bro, I peeked at your little ‘profile’ thing – and then I memorized it ‘cause she was hot so don’t tell Di-Di – and I distinctly remember it saying she only had about a mile of minds to work with.”
“Yes, except that it failed to mention she can use technology to... look – I don’t know how it works,” he huffed. “She had my goggles, she used those to –”
“She had them?”
His constant interrupting was grating on Jason. He grit his teeth.
“Yes, she had my goggles –”
“So she reset them?”
“Yes, she reset them –”
“Bummer, bro. But at least it’s good intel.” Gary shrugged. “From the reset up to you snatchin’ ‘em back, you’re sittin’ on serious insider recon stuff.” Jason frowned again. Now it mean ‘what?’ “From the goggles.” He wasn’t following. “How they record everything?”
“That would’ve been great, except that I set my goggles to not record,” he said. More hope building. He hated it. “I don’t like knowing someone can re-watch my every move.”
“Yeah, but it’s a default setting. You turned it off, but the system reset turned it on, so if you...”
Gary kept talking, but Jason couldn’t hear him over the angel chorus. Fuck. Yes. Finally! Something in his favour – halleluiah – this was incredible! Gary was right – which was impressive on its own but – fuck yes! If the goggles had been reset, they’d gone back to the default, and since the Agency had to keep tabs on everything, auto-record was a start-up setting, which meant that even if he hadn’t been wearing the goggles, they’d still been working for him! Sure – he’d only have the audio if they'd been looking away, but the audio was point! He could show Eric what’d happened down there and then they’d see – and then they’d stop – and then they’d –
“You –” Jason grabbed Gary’s head between his gloves and forced him to look into his eyes. If he’d been Alexander, Gary would be dead by now. Instead, Jason was killing him with gratitude. “– are my angel!”
“See? I knew you talked like that,” Gary grumped, but he beamed happily. “Glad I could help, and good to know I know your suit better’n you do.”
“My angel, Gary!” With his energy fully restored, Jason bounded to the stairs, started flying up them – “I completely forgive you for the wrong number thing!”
“Great! Thanks! I’ll – uh... I’ll wait here. Go get ‘em, tiger!”
He had to find his lead. He had to find Eric. His goggles were around his neck and as light and free as they damn well should’ve been, and he was ecstatic to find his suit slowly reforming its body with his entire being. Where were they? Talking? He was interrupting. This was too important to wait.
* * *
Five minutes flat sounds good. Let’s do that.
“That involves killing someone,” Alex mumbled. “That’s what I’m trying to avoid.”
Would you stop? I don’t know what’s got you so self-righteous, but it’s really annoying. ‘Self-righteous’? Because he wanted to use a different tactic than ‘set everything on fire, who cares as long as it gets us what we want’? Uh – yeah?
“We’re going to find another way.”
Whatever.
“We don’t even know –” He stopped. He shouldn’t be chatting like this. It was a question he should’ve been putting to Osono anyway. “I get that you’ve got this ‘gift’ at getting Agents to swarm around you, but you’re forgetting two things: one, we’re only two people and my foot’s not getting any better to fight, and two, the reason you’re so good at getting them is because Rudy spent his time stalking you. If he’s gone with Gwen, who’s to say he’s paying attention anymore? He’s got one of you, he’s happy as a calm, he’s probably off to get his reward and then never come back. He’s probably glad to get rid of you, lunatic.”
If I hands, I’d be clapping in awe, because I could truly never be as heartless as you. And I’m the guy who’s trained at kicking puppies across a room.
“Great. What’s the problem now?”
You’d think the whole ‘I know he’s trying to kill me but I can’t quite seem to work up the nerve to kill him back’ thing would set you just a teeny bit more sensitive than normal. Hell – I don’t care – but as long as you’re still carting me around, I’d prefer to get into my body before she breaks down or flies into a hellish rage ‘cause you said the wrong thing. Coffee.
“No more coffee.”
Alex felt a tingle at his foot, followed by a stern and mildly depraved, Coffee.
Alex drank the stupid coffee.
“You’d be better off without him, by the way.”
Xander stopped. He’d been in the middle of saying something and he’d stopped. Seriously? He wanted Alex to talk? For what, to apologize? He hadn’t said anything!
Pussy.
“I didn’t –”
“Rudy’s a whiny bitch who shot an old guy in the bathroom. I don’t know what spell he’s got you under or what crazy act he’s pulled off year after year keeping you convinced he’s better than nothing, but if I had to choose, and I’m close to that decision, I’d sure as hell want to be on my own than with a guy who oozes sleeze.” Xander shrugged. “You can do better, Sparky. What’re fire powers for if not to get laid by someone who doesn’t suck ass? ... Or – uh... if that’s what you’re into...”
Charming.
Beats ‘he’s gonna dump your ass’. Dickwad.
Alex shut him up by drinking more coffee. He kept drinking it, as slowly as he could with the junkie tugging at his hand to tip it faster and his hand trembling from jitters that hadn’t come close to wearing off, and it lasted until he saw the arrow come nose-to-nose with their new star. Sure enough, there was the gas station, and there, after a fifteen minute drive and some silence, was an office building – a real one. It didn’t look abandoned and it didn’t seem worn down, but it was empty. It was Saturday so that was to be expected, but that meant no casualties.
Other than a few unlucky janitors.
Then that was a ‘no’ to fire.
Forget I said anything?
“We’re not burning it down.”
Then how the hell do you expect this to work?
Alex thought about it.
“The lawn. We can torch the lawn or the outside. I just don’t want anyone innocent to get killed.”
Boo-hoo, crossfire is sad, but so’s running for our lives and – oh, yeah – trying to get Gwen back.
“We’ll figure something out. Stop here,” Alex said. “We’ll walk the rest of the way.”
* * *
Jason hadn’t missed much, he realized. With the way they must’ve been strolling and the way he’d been running – he got turned around once or twice but he found the room they were in – he’d barely lost more than a minute, and if that...
He stopped. Breathless but silent and fading from of sight out pure reflex he couldn’t acknowledge until the feeling sunk in. This room was the size of a classroom and a half. Its door was a heavy metal slider that took either a special pass or the brute force of a recently reincarnated Frenchman. The room was dark, and while that shouldn’t have been a surprise because the hallways and the unused offices were lightless as well – the tiny glimmer of occupied rooms had been what had guided him so far – there was a stronger sense of night welling up. It might have had to do with the deep red glow stirring from its center. It might have been the very solemn stance Eric had as he looked upon his prizes. Mostly, however, Jason saw that the eeriness came from the four giant jars filled with red liquid and people.
Two men, two women, all of them stripped and clamped in place. Their eyes were closed and their hair floated around them, tossed slightly by the air bubbles swirling up. On each of their mouths was a dark mask attached to a hose, and that hose turned down and stuck into the bottom of the glass container. Stasis cells, all on dark stands about a foot and a half high. Enormous wires poured from the ceiling and connected to their tops, burning that gentle shade of fire as it caught the light falling out. The colour meant something. They were supposed to be green, weren’t they? He wasn’t versed on things like that.
They hadn’t noticed him. He’d faded in the nick of time. Despite the energy inside him, he forced it into a duller excited rush. His intent to interrupt had vanished at the first step of the A-1 towards the cells, so he hung back and kept close to the door, listening intently to sound of the man’s footsteps and the invisible hum of frozen life inside the jars.
“These four bodies belong to Agents,” Eric’s voice flowed. It echoed in the emptiness, stronger than it’d been on the plane and in Elmira. Was that because of the acoustics, or was there a scent he’d picked up? “All of them have very interesting stories. They’re successes, first of all, but they’re also traitors to what you stand for.”
He’d reached the second to the left and stood before it, then let his hand rise and nestle fondly on the cell’s surface. Underneath his touch, the glass seemed to shiver, and the feeling of solemnity spread out and danced. Through the reflection, Jason could see that smile of his still firmly in place, but now it held a softness, something new. There was peace across his face as he stared up at the sleeping eyes, as if he hadn’t truly belonged anywhere except here in this room with it.
“On the far right is Arthur. He picked a target with time control. He never could get it working properly, fortunately, but we had our hands full bringing him in. He was gone for four months, three days and twenty-two hours. He stopped because he turned himself in. I can’t imagine why he thought he’d be welcomed back.” Eric’s voice was hypnotically low. He was playful in the way he spoke, but content to share his world with Jason’s lead. This was a glimpse into something that wasn’t normally seen and here they were, having it explained. “Jillian, to his left, had the same idea. She couldn’t bare the thought of betraying us. She and her great strength were out of reach for two months and a day. At least she was smarter about her return. She came to us with information on the inner workings of their group. She sought me out, actually, because she knew I’d want to hear it, and I thanked her – really – but I can’t forgive that. She screamed the entire time she was placed into stasis. You can see it now if you try. She’s still angry.”
He said it like it was a joke. Jason, reunited with his equipment, zoomed in. Although the others’ faces were relaxed and accepting of their fate, Jillian’s brow was slightly furrowed as if there’d been a pain pinching her. To have kept it up for however long she’d been inside must’ve meant her fury was unbreakable. Jason wasn’t going near her.
“Sebastian – to my left – had speed. He fell in a panic when we had him surrounded. I think Benoit led that return. This one too, actually.” The one he’d had his hand on. Again, a shiver fanned out. “He decided he wasn’t going to come easy. No – he’d found ‘morality’ and the beauty of innocent life. He’d ‘awakened’ to find what we did to be evil. He was disgusted, and although he’d been thrilled to use our technology to further our insidious work, the hypocrite was going to spend the rest of his life fighting us to bring us down.” The smile in the reflection grew proud. “He lasted two days. I laughed in his face when he showed up. I and another A-1 watched the entire thing go on.”
His voice swam to a whisper. His fingers bent along the cell he’d placed them against and his nails clinked as they struck the surface. It was like he was trying to reach through to it, to the last woman in the centre of the group.
“This is Charlotte. This is her original body. She was the worst one. She had regeneration – the thing I’d always envied. Before I became an A-1 – long before the other three were captured – this was the power I was going to get. It was only fair, I thought, because the target was male and she was female, but she devised the brilliant idea of having a contest to see who won. It was her.” Clink. Clink. Clink. He was drumming his fingers on it now, letting the sharp sound pierce through the fog he’d lulled them into. “She’d thought she’d live an amazing life. She’d thought she was invincible. She’d thought she knew how to tear the Agency to pieces – not for some high moral glory, but because she didn’t want ‘us’ to become a threat to what she was trying to do. She wanted freedom to reign supreme and she’d come up with the very organization all three of the others had run off to. They’re called the ‘Anti-Agents’ – how very clever – and they’ve been a thorn in our side from the day they’d formed. With her at the helm, they dissected every one of our weaknesses and used it against us. I can’t tell you how in awe I was of her.”
Eric stepped back and looked at the cell. It was true: the man was in awe of her. It shone from his face unignorably, and though his back was turned towards them, the undaunted wonder could not be mistaken. Jason couldn’t turn away.
“Charlotte was more like me than any person I’ve ever met. We shared something: detachment from our work. We had missions and we fulfilled them because that was what was expected. We didn’t argue about what was right or what was wrong; we did and we did it beyond anyone else’s ability. She became the Agency’s priority because they feared her Anti-Agents would swarm to oppose the nasty things we deal in. Her entire army was built out of the people we were meant to capture to ensure the safety of the public. They didn’t understand what she was trying to do. I did.” Finally, he turned to Jason’s lead, giving her his smile rather than the other woman in the jar. “As she spread her word about the good fight against us, more and more gifted citizens joined and sat at her feet. The last I heard, she had two hundred abilities at her fingertips, all of them hanging off of what she said. She only had to point and they’d jump to serve her, and that, Miss March, was exactly what the Agency had asked for. ‘To the best of our ability, beyond anyone else’s’. We take over to bend one person’s strength to our will, and here she had a village.
“Her confidence got the best of her. As powerful as those people made her grow, they weren’t trained and scattered when we launched our full assault. With only her regeneration to help her, she put up an immaculate fight, but we got her and we brought her in. And now here she is, defeated.” He paused. “There’s no doubt that she’d hit the height of brilliance. If she’d been dealing with soldiers instead of skittish vigilante-rebels, we wouldn’t have been able to touch her. I’ve learned from that. I plan to turn her work into my work. I won’t give you the details because you don’t need them: that boy in Elmira? The one you saw? He’s Charlotte’s legacy, built by me in her name, trained, contained and indestructible.” The corner of his mouth twitched – down, and in annoyance. “I’ve hit a snag. I’ll get it sorted out eventually – I have time, damn near eternity save for an asteroid falling from the sky – but for now I’m here to focus on you. Maybe I – uh... went off on a tangent there. I dunno – it seemed like something worth talking about. It’s practically my purpose in life. But as it relates to you, Steph...” He gestured to the other jars. “These guys are what I wanted to show you.”
The solemnity receded. The air was getting back to normal.
“I’ve got high hopes for you. You’re dedicated and you’re smart and you’re willing to make this work, but so did those three, seconds before they got what they wanted and defected to those asshole Antis. There’s no point in getting you to promise you ‘won’t do that’. If you won’t, you won’t, but if you do, I’ll find you.” He gestured again. “And then you’ll be up there with the rest of them and I’ll spend the next week destroying your name. I’d be... well – I’d be sorry to have to do that. Benny – sure – no problem – but you.” Eric grinned. “Please don’t run off to the Anti-Agents. It won’t be fun when I drag you back. For you. Not me.”
Last edited by Tartra on Sat May 14, 2011 8:44 am; 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 Fri Nov 05, 2010 7:34 pm
Stephanie was drawn along by Master's presence, practically floating beside him on a cloud as he led her through the halls of the base. Even when they first arrived to the room he'd mentioned, her eyes left him to widen and take in the four balefully red jars, but her attention was still completely focused on him. The world had vanished beneath her feet and she felt fragile and vulnerable, on pins and needles waiting to bend to his word. She didn't care where he took her or what he said. The honor of being in his presence had her hovering above the ground on invisible wings, giddy and yet calmly content to be with him, basking in his glow.
That changed the instant his voice filled the air with it's vibrant tone that echoed into and all around her carrying weight and slamming it down upon her body. It was like she landed on her feet again, the magic that had been filling her suddenly gone, replaced by a more realistic sense of worship. As he began speaking, not only did his voice chill her to her depths, drawing her focus to him like a bee to honey, but it was hauntingly soothing at the same time. As each of the four were indicated and their story told, she looked at them in turn with a gaze filled with wondering curiosity. What had possessed these people, once successful Agents, to turn their backs completely on the Agency? After all that dedication, she couldn't fathom it, especially not when they'd achieved what she sought so desperately. Just to turn around and throw it away like that...
Stephanie could tell right away that this was privileged information and even before he'd reached the end of Jillian's tale, she could feel where this was going. It was a warning. Master was imparting a lesson to her. What he was telling her hit home even more stolidly than before once she came to that realization and she let her teacher's words wash over her, allowing the conclusion to reach it's end.
When Charlotte's turn came up and Stephanie watched the changes come over his form, the flimsy emotion of jealousy came and went like a fluttering butterfly. There was so much to envy in the other woman, now held away from death but not living, but there was a lot to be condemned as well. Even the relationship and the past Master hinted at was not enough to rile Stephanie's jealousy. It would have felt like combating a ghost for his attention.
As he came to the meat of the story describing Charlotte's rebel group she wondered why she'd never heard of the "Anit-Agents" before. It was interesting information, to say the least, and she wondered what he was trying to say. Did he want to redirect her attention from her case onto this rebellion? Was he trying to make a comparison between her personal struggles and his own fight with those in the Anti Agent group? Or...was he just confiding in her? The last seemed unlikely. Master had too many well-crafted walls to choose to let them down in front of someone like her. No, whatever peek he was giving her into his private history and the conflict with this group, there was a reason for it.
When he finally turned to her and the cloud lifted from the room, she blinked and blushed at the last things he said. If you won’t, you won’t, but if you do, I’ll find you. It hit her core like a cord being struck, even coupled with that beautiful, mesmerizing grin of his. It was suddenly very clear why he'd told her about all of this but she wasn't sure if he was just threatening her in general or if she'd done something to give him the impression that she would fall for a pursuit so hopeless. Of course, she loved control and she felt that connection with Charlotte who'd had hundreds at her command. But Stephanie had been a submissive and she knew the power and threat of the Agency. No matter what, it would always win and she would never put herself higher on the food chain than where they directly placed her. She knew where she belonged.
The trouble now was struggling not to be offended. He had every right to give her this warning - whether it was a personal message to her or not - and his precaution was enough to make her admire him again, even as it made her withdraw woundedly. "I understand, Sir," she said levelly, her tone gathering together as much stone as it could and her crumbling emotionless mask fitting into place, emotions rippling underneath, half-seen and glimpsed even in the darkened room. "I may not have reached the level you have as far as abandoning the moral fiber I've been chained with and there are still a few things that hold me back in that regard. But the Agency has become a part of me. It raised me up from the sloppy, wild thing I stumbled in as, to what I am today. Everything I have sacrificed and worked so hard to gain would be for naught if I turned my back on this. And it would be a betrayal of everything I am and have worked so hard to become.
"I will not and do not ever plan on disgracing myself in such a manner and I would rather take my own life than betray the Agency or you. I...know my place, Sir... You may have noticed, Master, that I admire you greatly. Your excellence blinds me and every time you speak you take my breath away. And yet when I look into your eyes, there is nothing there. How will I ever achieve that level of hollowness if I stopped my progress and fell back to Earth to wallow with the vermin? THIS is the way to the top. THIS is the way to achieve the blissful death of every last inch of my humanity. And I want that more than anything else and I'm consumed by my need for it."
Her voice faded as she looked at the jars again, a thought occurring to her. One of the things currently holding her back: Jason. Stephanie had a moment of clarity with all this talk with Master, but it did not erase the still present feelings she had for her partner, even though she did not understand why she cared so much about him. Master had helped her put things into perspective and helped her remember why she'd joined the Agency and how her first years of training had been. She'd been ruthless and domineering, her desire for control turning everyone around her into a victim, consumed by her lusts and bent to her will. She still felt that way - vigorously - even towards Jason. But there was something else that was present and she didn't understand her sudden instinct to protect him from harm - when putting him in pain and agony got her so frigging hot in the first place. It was becoming too much and she was afraid she might lose him when he was forced to give up his suit. And if he fell...she knew she would fall with him. It didn't make sense to her, but her concern for Jason was just as much about him as it was about self-preservation.
Now that she finally had the Master alone, she felt it was the best time to bring this up and hopefully make things better and not worse for the only remaining member of her team. When she turned back to him, the mask flickered and she looked uncertainly up at him for a few moments before smoothing it back into place. "Master... I need to speak to you about Jason and...and what's going to happen to him." Her voice stopped shaking and grew more powerful as she took a deep breath and went on.
"I want to take responsibility for what happened in Elmira. I know what Jason said happened but I understand it more clearly now. Because of previous mistakes I made regarding this case, his equipment was damaged and he was not in the best state of mind at the time." It was partly true. She did feel responsible for the mistake about the apartments being mixed up. If she'd been less worried about counting all the eggs in her basket and preparing for the body transfer, than actually being an active part in Gwen's capture from the beginning, none of this would have ever happened. But the mystery of Nathan had yet to be uncovered, more questions than answers coming up every time Master mentioned the boy. "I fully admit that I'm not as experienced as a Leader as I should be and with the prize in sight, I was arrogant at first. But I've learned from my mistakes, I assure you.
"He's a good Agent," she said genuinely through the dull tone she only half-possessed. "I just ask that you give him another chance to prove himself or at least allow him to keep the suit until I've completed my mission. We're so close to the end but still so many things could go wrong. Having him feeble or wired on drugs is not something I want to have to worry about. Bringing in a replacement at this point will complicate things...
"I know it is inappropriate to ask you for favors...but I would be in your debt forever. And Master, I'll--" she briefly choked on her words but quickly recovered, the monotone shaking slightly. "I'll do anything."
Hopefully from what she'd previously said, he would assume she was talking about her case and getting emotional about wanting to achieve her goals with Gwen, rather than the truth which was that Jason was important to her beyond his usefulness. Still, it felt a bit like she was sticking her neck out further than she would have liked with just asking him for this period. She almost expected to get reprimanded for her weakness or be forced to pay a price she could not afford. Gwen. He wouldn't take her away from her, would he? It hardly seemed like he would even show her mercy that he had not yet displayed towards anyone. But if he did - and there was that hope - it felt a bit like what Stephanie imagined making a deal with the Devil would be like. It didn't matter. If it got her Jason AND Gwen, she would sign anything and pledge her loyalties to anyone.
Rationally, she could agree with him. His foot was a pain in the ass and with Rudy preoccupied, there was a very good chance whatever she did to get attention wouldn't work as quickly as she wanted it to. But it was the way he said it... She'd pretty much told him in the coffee shop how she felt about Rudy, if not directly then heavily implied it. And it was clear from his lash back at her that he'd understood perfectly and he used this personal information, that she'd felt comfortable enough to share with him, as a weapon against her. It hit her right where it hurt.
She hated Rudy. She fucking HATED the little bastard and she was constantly thinking and daydreaming of ways to kill him. But...she liked him too. In the back of her mind, she'd always hoped and kidded herself that there was some sort of relationship between them. Even when he showed up and she was actively looking out for Agents to show up...it was nice to have someone around who at least made a good show of pretending to like being with her. Even in her old life before she'd met Rudy, her personal relationships had suffered from things she'd done in her past. So, when he came along, he seemed a necessary and even tolerable evil. Most of the time she tricked herself into believing she was too dangerous to love and that it was better for her and for everyone if they just all stayed away. Rudy was the only one who didn't seem to care if she burned him alive.
Now that she'd found out the truth, the official truth without a doubt that Rudy was only interested in capturing her and selling her out...she'd still held onto a vague hope that he'd come back and things would be different. Or maybe they could at least go back to the way things were. But ever since she heard that he'd been the one directly responsible for capturing Gwen, there had been a doubt that he would have gotten what he wanted and she'd never see him again. And Alex just harpooned that fucking weak spot. And for what? Because she didn't want to clown around, dragging ass to fifty locations!? He really was a jerkwad.
Ozzie was fully willing to shut up after that - she hadn't meant to get personal with him in the first place, but she realized she'd gotten used to being around him and had been too honest; so she decided no more fucking talking from her and he would get nothing else to wound from now on - but the asshole kept talking. It didn't matter that he was trying to console her or at least trying to correct his error - in the most crass way possible, she might add. It was the touchy subject that he just kept poking at and poking at as if he knew anything about it. Although, she hadn't known Rudy had killed anyone, and it was a bit astonishing to know that he'd shot an innocent bystander, as soon as
Alex said "Rudy" she gritted her teeth and gripped the wheel even tighter.
By the time they were at their location and Alex told her to stop, she was practically seething with bottled rage. She could feel it swelling inside her like molten lava inside a volcano, ready to burst from her top. And she barely acknowledged his murmured plan to torch the lawn - probably because he was a fucking pussy. As she parked at the curb and felt the engine die down, warmth spread around her in a cloud as her rage continued to build. Slipping Gwen's bag over her head and setting it on the divider between the seats, she also removed her jacket and checked the gun she'd stolen from the Agent. It was loaded. Leaving the car, she met Alex on the sidewalk and as he proceeded towards the building, she let the top blow.
Ozzie was walking right behind him when she moved into action, charging into him hard enough to knock him off his feet with a loud roar. When he fell to the ground and rolled onto his back giving her a look like he wanted to start pissing and moaning again, she stood firmly over him and a halo of fire appeared over her hands. Her dark chocolate brown eyes which could grow amber in sunlight had turned pitch black, shining in the light from her balled up fists as she glared murderously down at him. Then she pouted and gave him a quick, small kick to his good leg.
"You ass! I don't fucking need Rudy to do this and I don't need you! You can sit this one out an' rest your widdle weak ankles and just sit there and mouth off, Pretty boy! Next time you wanna give me relationship advice, try and stifle the urge by tongue fucking the mental clone of your girlfriend some more!" Her clothes caught on fire then, but through the hazy whisps of red, yellow and orange, they appeared to stay untouched by the flames that hovered over them. "I'll get you your stupid Agents and your stupid codes AND I'll do it without killing anybody! How's that Jimminy fucking Cricket!?" She kicked him again as the nickname blurted between her lips and her hair ignited in a halo of golden and shining flames.
It wasn't long before everything, even her skin was covered in fire, licking over her limbs and her face and obscuring her eyes but leaving her features half-visible. She loved the feel of the flames on her body and they roared over her with a mutual delight, turning her into a wraith of flame. She made an aggressive move towards him but stopped short and snorted when she caught him blinking in a half-flinch, before moving past him towards the building. As she walked over the lawn, her footsteps left charred and crackling imprints but they didn't stay lit for very long. He'd said something about setting it on fire and she did so with a wave of her hand, releasing the fire that burst to life and letting it roam free. But the great bulk of it consumed the short and well-groomed grass quickly and died with lamenting crackles.
That wouldn't do. She needed more fuel. There were shrubs outside by the doors and they instantly went up, allowed to burn freely, but it still wasn't enough. Ozzie was itching to do some damage. Unsnapping a button on a pocket against her upper thigh, she pulled out a small metal flask and unscrewed it. The slight burn of whiskey filled her mouth and she let it collect in her cheeks, before turning to the front of the building and spraying it in a stream of fire against the outside, charring it and setting a few small fires sticking outside. Not enough. She needed more. Rage still burned in her gut and the fires covering her body filled her with their hunger, even as they imbued her with their heated life.
Stepping towards the doors which were glass top to bottom, she glanced back to where Alex was before stepping through a hole that melted in the glass. Like a curtain parting for her and welcoming her home. Maybe there would be something she could make an explosion with, inside.
That changed the instant his voice filled the air with it's vibrant tone that echoed into and all around her carrying weight and slamming it down upon her body. It was like she landed on her feet again, the magic that had been filling her suddenly gone, replaced by a more realistic sense of worship. As he began speaking, not only did his voice chill her to her depths, drawing her focus to him like a bee to honey, but it was hauntingly soothing at the same time. As each of the four were indicated and their story told, she looked at them in turn with a gaze filled with wondering curiosity. What had possessed these people, once successful Agents, to turn their backs completely on the Agency? After all that dedication, she couldn't fathom it, especially not when they'd achieved what she sought so desperately. Just to turn around and throw it away like that...
Stephanie could tell right away that this was privileged information and even before he'd reached the end of Jillian's tale, she could feel where this was going. It was a warning. Master was imparting a lesson to her. What he was telling her hit home even more stolidly than before once she came to that realization and she let her teacher's words wash over her, allowing the conclusion to reach it's end.
When Charlotte's turn came up and Stephanie watched the changes come over his form, the flimsy emotion of jealousy came and went like a fluttering butterfly. There was so much to envy in the other woman, now held away from death but not living, but there was a lot to be condemned as well. Even the relationship and the past Master hinted at was not enough to rile Stephanie's jealousy. It would have felt like combating a ghost for his attention.
As he came to the meat of the story describing Charlotte's rebel group she wondered why she'd never heard of the "Anit-Agents" before. It was interesting information, to say the least, and she wondered what he was trying to say. Did he want to redirect her attention from her case onto this rebellion? Was he trying to make a comparison between her personal struggles and his own fight with those in the Anti Agent group? Or...was he just confiding in her? The last seemed unlikely. Master had too many well-crafted walls to choose to let them down in front of someone like her. No, whatever peek he was giving her into his private history and the conflict with this group, there was a reason for it.
When he finally turned to her and the cloud lifted from the room, she blinked and blushed at the last things he said. If you won’t, you won’t, but if you do, I’ll find you. It hit her core like a cord being struck, even coupled with that beautiful, mesmerizing grin of his. It was suddenly very clear why he'd told her about all of this but she wasn't sure if he was just threatening her in general or if she'd done something to give him the impression that she would fall for a pursuit so hopeless. Of course, she loved control and she felt that connection with Charlotte who'd had hundreds at her command. But Stephanie had been a submissive and she knew the power and threat of the Agency. No matter what, it would always win and she would never put herself higher on the food chain than where they directly placed her. She knew where she belonged.
The trouble now was struggling not to be offended. He had every right to give her this warning - whether it was a personal message to her or not - and his precaution was enough to make her admire him again, even as it made her withdraw woundedly. "I understand, Sir," she said levelly, her tone gathering together as much stone as it could and her crumbling emotionless mask fitting into place, emotions rippling underneath, half-seen and glimpsed even in the darkened room. "I may not have reached the level you have as far as abandoning the moral fiber I've been chained with and there are still a few things that hold me back in that regard. But the Agency has become a part of me. It raised me up from the sloppy, wild thing I stumbled in as, to what I am today. Everything I have sacrificed and worked so hard to gain would be for naught if I turned my back on this. And it would be a betrayal of everything I am and have worked so hard to become.
"I will not and do not ever plan on disgracing myself in such a manner and I would rather take my own life than betray the Agency or you. I...know my place, Sir... You may have noticed, Master, that I admire you greatly. Your excellence blinds me and every time you speak you take my breath away. And yet when I look into your eyes, there is nothing there. How will I ever achieve that level of hollowness if I stopped my progress and fell back to Earth to wallow with the vermin? THIS is the way to the top. THIS is the way to achieve the blissful death of every last inch of my humanity. And I want that more than anything else and I'm consumed by my need for it."
Her voice faded as she looked at the jars again, a thought occurring to her. One of the things currently holding her back: Jason. Stephanie had a moment of clarity with all this talk with Master, but it did not erase the still present feelings she had for her partner, even though she did not understand why she cared so much about him. Master had helped her put things into perspective and helped her remember why she'd joined the Agency and how her first years of training had been. She'd been ruthless and domineering, her desire for control turning everyone around her into a victim, consumed by her lusts and bent to her will. She still felt that way - vigorously - even towards Jason. But there was something else that was present and she didn't understand her sudden instinct to protect him from harm - when putting him in pain and agony got her so frigging hot in the first place. It was becoming too much and she was afraid she might lose him when he was forced to give up his suit. And if he fell...she knew she would fall with him. It didn't make sense to her, but her concern for Jason was just as much about him as it was about self-preservation.
Now that she finally had the Master alone, she felt it was the best time to bring this up and hopefully make things better and not worse for the only remaining member of her team. When she turned back to him, the mask flickered and she looked uncertainly up at him for a few moments before smoothing it back into place. "Master... I need to speak to you about Jason and...and what's going to happen to him." Her voice stopped shaking and grew more powerful as she took a deep breath and went on.
"I want to take responsibility for what happened in Elmira. I know what Jason said happened but I understand it more clearly now. Because of previous mistakes I made regarding this case, his equipment was damaged and he was not in the best state of mind at the time." It was partly true. She did feel responsible for the mistake about the apartments being mixed up. If she'd been less worried about counting all the eggs in her basket and preparing for the body transfer, than actually being an active part in Gwen's capture from the beginning, none of this would have ever happened. But the mystery of Nathan had yet to be uncovered, more questions than answers coming up every time Master mentioned the boy. "I fully admit that I'm not as experienced as a Leader as I should be and with the prize in sight, I was arrogant at first. But I've learned from my mistakes, I assure you.
"He's a good Agent," she said genuinely through the dull tone she only half-possessed. "I just ask that you give him another chance to prove himself or at least allow him to keep the suit until I've completed my mission. We're so close to the end but still so many things could go wrong. Having him feeble or wired on drugs is not something I want to have to worry about. Bringing in a replacement at this point will complicate things...
"I know it is inappropriate to ask you for favors...but I would be in your debt forever. And Master, I'll--" she briefly choked on her words but quickly recovered, the monotone shaking slightly. "I'll do anything."
Hopefully from what she'd previously said, he would assume she was talking about her case and getting emotional about wanting to achieve her goals with Gwen, rather than the truth which was that Jason was important to her beyond his usefulness. Still, it felt a bit like she was sticking her neck out further than she would have liked with just asking him for this period. She almost expected to get reprimanded for her weakness or be forced to pay a price she could not afford. Gwen. He wouldn't take her away from her, would he? It hardly seemed like he would even show her mercy that he had not yet displayed towards anyone. But if he did - and there was that hope - it felt a bit like what Stephanie imagined making a deal with the Devil would be like. It didn't matter. If it got her Jason AND Gwen, she would sign anything and pledge her loyalties to anyone.
***
Osono fully expected a retort from him. In fact, she was still so fired up from her rant that she freaking welcomed it. Anything to take out her frustration right now and get her pumped up again to do whatever they were going to need to do. But she stopped, driving the car on autopilot, and blinking in shock at what he actually ended up saying.Rationally, she could agree with him. His foot was a pain in the ass and with Rudy preoccupied, there was a very good chance whatever she did to get attention wouldn't work as quickly as she wanted it to. But it was the way he said it... She'd pretty much told him in the coffee shop how she felt about Rudy, if not directly then heavily implied it. And it was clear from his lash back at her that he'd understood perfectly and he used this personal information, that she'd felt comfortable enough to share with him, as a weapon against her. It hit her right where it hurt.
She hated Rudy. She fucking HATED the little bastard and she was constantly thinking and daydreaming of ways to kill him. But...she liked him too. In the back of her mind, she'd always hoped and kidded herself that there was some sort of relationship between them. Even when he showed up and she was actively looking out for Agents to show up...it was nice to have someone around who at least made a good show of pretending to like being with her. Even in her old life before she'd met Rudy, her personal relationships had suffered from things she'd done in her past. So, when he came along, he seemed a necessary and even tolerable evil. Most of the time she tricked herself into believing she was too dangerous to love and that it was better for her and for everyone if they just all stayed away. Rudy was the only one who didn't seem to care if she burned him alive.
Now that she'd found out the truth, the official truth without a doubt that Rudy was only interested in capturing her and selling her out...she'd still held onto a vague hope that he'd come back and things would be different. Or maybe they could at least go back to the way things were. But ever since she heard that he'd been the one directly responsible for capturing Gwen, there had been a doubt that he would have gotten what he wanted and she'd never see him again. And Alex just harpooned that fucking weak spot. And for what? Because she didn't want to clown around, dragging ass to fifty locations!? He really was a jerkwad.
Ozzie was fully willing to shut up after that - she hadn't meant to get personal with him in the first place, but she realized she'd gotten used to being around him and had been too honest; so she decided no more fucking talking from her and he would get nothing else to wound from now on - but the asshole kept talking. It didn't matter that he was trying to console her or at least trying to correct his error - in the most crass way possible, she might add. It was the touchy subject that he just kept poking at and poking at as if he knew anything about it. Although, she hadn't known Rudy had killed anyone, and it was a bit astonishing to know that he'd shot an innocent bystander, as soon as
Alex said "Rudy" she gritted her teeth and gripped the wheel even tighter.
By the time they were at their location and Alex told her to stop, she was practically seething with bottled rage. She could feel it swelling inside her like molten lava inside a volcano, ready to burst from her top. And she barely acknowledged his murmured plan to torch the lawn - probably because he was a fucking pussy. As she parked at the curb and felt the engine die down, warmth spread around her in a cloud as her rage continued to build. Slipping Gwen's bag over her head and setting it on the divider between the seats, she also removed her jacket and checked the gun she'd stolen from the Agent. It was loaded. Leaving the car, she met Alex on the sidewalk and as he proceeded towards the building, she let the top blow.
Ozzie was walking right behind him when she moved into action, charging into him hard enough to knock him off his feet with a loud roar. When he fell to the ground and rolled onto his back giving her a look like he wanted to start pissing and moaning again, she stood firmly over him and a halo of fire appeared over her hands. Her dark chocolate brown eyes which could grow amber in sunlight had turned pitch black, shining in the light from her balled up fists as she glared murderously down at him. Then she pouted and gave him a quick, small kick to his good leg.
"You ass! I don't fucking need Rudy to do this and I don't need you! You can sit this one out an' rest your widdle weak ankles and just sit there and mouth off, Pretty boy! Next time you wanna give me relationship advice, try and stifle the urge by tongue fucking the mental clone of your girlfriend some more!" Her clothes caught on fire then, but through the hazy whisps of red, yellow and orange, they appeared to stay untouched by the flames that hovered over them. "I'll get you your stupid Agents and your stupid codes AND I'll do it without killing anybody! How's that Jimminy fucking Cricket!?" She kicked him again as the nickname blurted between her lips and her hair ignited in a halo of golden and shining flames.
It wasn't long before everything, even her skin was covered in fire, licking over her limbs and her face and obscuring her eyes but leaving her features half-visible. She loved the feel of the flames on her body and they roared over her with a mutual delight, turning her into a wraith of flame. She made an aggressive move towards him but stopped short and snorted when she caught him blinking in a half-flinch, before moving past him towards the building. As she walked over the lawn, her footsteps left charred and crackling imprints but they didn't stay lit for very long. He'd said something about setting it on fire and she did so with a wave of her hand, releasing the fire that burst to life and letting it roam free. But the great bulk of it consumed the short and well-groomed grass quickly and died with lamenting crackles.
That wouldn't do. She needed more fuel. There were shrubs outside by the doors and they instantly went up, allowed to burn freely, but it still wasn't enough. Ozzie was itching to do some damage. Unsnapping a button on a pocket against her upper thigh, she pulled out a small metal flask and unscrewed it. The slight burn of whiskey filled her mouth and she let it collect in her cheeks, before turning to the front of the building and spraying it in a stream of fire against the outside, charring it and setting a few small fires sticking outside. Not enough. She needed more. Rage still burned in her gut and the fires covering her body filled her with their hunger, even as they imbued her with their heated life.
Stepping towards the doors which were glass top to bottom, she glanced back to where Alex was before stepping through a hole that melted in the glass. Like a curtain parting for her and welcoming her home. Maybe there would be something she could make an explosion with, inside.
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Mon Nov 08, 2010 8:51 pm
You know, you might have made her angry. With nothing but his voice, Xander gave a clear display of shaking his head in disapproval. So sad. And to think you two were having a moment in Starbucks. We should go back –
“She’s setting it on fire!”
... That’s bad, I take it.
“She’s burning everything,” Alex cried. He was unbelievably grateful he couldn’t feel whatever damage she’d done to his foot plowing into him like that, but it didn’t make it easier to stand up and jerk away from the flames. The heat snapped at his face as it flared up and fizzled out, almost blinding him and holding him back, but he saw her eyes turn over to him before she stomped in. He wasn’t letting Osono get away, for his sake, hers, Gwen’s and anyone’s still inside of there. “She’s completely out of her mind!”
Exactly what part of this isn’t in the plan?
“Fuck you and your stupid plan, Xander,” he said. “There’s a reason I don’t let you come up with any.”
‘I’m Alex and I’m angry. I’m gonna go back up to my apartment –’
“And stop bringing that up,” he snarled, grinding his teeth together as he dragged his dead foot towards the doors. “It was a one time thing.”
Riiiight. Because this is much better. ‘I’m Alex and I just finished pissing off a girl who can melt my cramped head with a wave of her eyelash. I’m going to go chase after her into a confined area now, through the fiery fire, utterly ignoring her intent to – as was expressed in my plan – destroy the shit out’f the rest of it. There’s absolutely no way this could be a bad idea.’
“I’m not going to sit by and let her...” The moment he needed to think of a word to finish that ended quickly. Although the shrubs were still burning and the earlier wave of flames still stung him, the shadows of the Agents, fully outfitted in black bodysuits that he, from years of experience, knew weren’t as armoured as they should’ve been, couldn’t have been more easy to spy than if they’d been wearing neon and holding signs. “Those are... like before –”
Recon. A line of acid wrapped around Xander’s words. Peter’s watching us.
Alex’s stomach twisted. Those two weren’t pretending to be stealthy and they didn’t stop their hopping-sprint all the way into the building. They were inside and out of sight in seconds. Where the hell had they come from? How did they know he – they were here?
“We need to warn her.”
No, now we especially need to stay outside. Give her space to work.
“But she –”
– is in better shape to fight them off than we are. Sorry, I meant ‘me’. Xander turned Alex’s head around, making him scan the horizon for the slightest sign of movement. There was nothing Alex could see, and from the way his eyes didn’t stop scouring the road, Xander wasn’t picking up on anything either. I don’t get it...
“Don’t get what?”
He only sent two, but they’re charging in as if they want a fight. They meant to be seen by us, he said. Peter knows we’re better than that. Two recons are barely a snack. Unless I’m missing the rest of the army, this is laying out a doormat to walk head-first into a trap.
Alex might not have liked the sound of that, but it wasn’t anything less than what he expected. Could they go in now?
“What type of trap are we looking at?”
If he sent us recon, it means they deal in information. We need information because it gets us into Charlton. That can only mean he wants us to go to Charlton, which we have no choice in doing, which we already suspected of being trapped and which he would know we already knew about.
“Okay.”
We’ve got two possibilities: either he’s biting the bullet and getting us to the trap as fast as he can, betting on having what we need to keep us from avoiding the place, or he’s got something else in mind he knows we won’t be prepared for. And then there’s always the third mystery scenario...
“So...?”
I don’t know, man. This was way easier when it was only the French guy.
“We got rid of Peter once before,” Alex said. “Well... enough to lose him for a few years.”
And until we have the answer to that riddle, we’ll be stuck with him for life. He sighed. Alright. Go in. We need to stop her before she sets our invitations on fire.
She would. Alex had that feeling, and those two were too lightly protected to stand up to much more than a candle – aside from the Agent training, of course, but how long would that last against... magma, or whatever she felt like throwing around? He began pulling his foot towards the building again, choking back the paranoia of the entire place exploding in his face the moment he got within lethal range, and peeked at the glass doors. She wasn’t one for keys, then. There were melted ripples along the edges and what hadn’t moved had spit up soot. If he wanted to look in, he’d have to go in. With a tense breath, he pulled his ankle over the cooled pool of door on the ground and entered into the silence.
Whatever damage she was planning on doing hadn’t happened yet. Dark smears of ash and the smell of a distant blaze were everywhere, but she must’ve been biding her time. What was it she’d said about the way she worked? She needed fuel or energy or something like that to get things working. In an office, where the lights were off and the floors were empty, where would fuel be?
“Xander?”
I dunno. Boiler room?
“And where’s that?”
Don’t know. Let me check my magical brain-map. Or we could follow the guys who’re trained to follow other guys. Fine, but where were they? You truly are gonna be hopeless without me. Here’s hoping Gwen doesn’t dump your ass so you get a heads up at least.
Alex stayed focused. He let Xander lead the way to Peter’s latest playmates with quick ‘left’s and ‘right’s, waiting to pick up on whatever was giving them away. Nothing. There were no sounds from any corner of the halls and no trail to follow. It wasn’t until he felt a warm air brushing past him that he realized they were on the right track.
“Osono!” Good. He’d found her. That’s good? “There’s Agents in here. We can’t kill them – they have what we need to get in.”
Hopefully. They should have it. They had it, right?
Can’t think of why they wouldn’t.
She didn’t look happy at all. He was assuming that, anyway, only because he didn’t have a lot of experience in picking emotions out of fire. Alex was not about to apologize for what he said. It was better that she got rid of her delusions now than run into Gwen and Rudy and convince herself that her ‘boyfriend’ was being ‘stolen’. The most he could do was not mention it again, even if he felt obligated to make sure she knew there was nothing between her and that guy other than what the Agency said.
... Huh. He really was a dickwad.
Yeah.
“You kids and your hormones,” Eric said, walking some steps away as if he were about to start pacing. He didn’t. Instead he stopped and squared his shoulders pointedly, relaxing them in a breath that seemed as much exasperated as it was entertained. “That’s the one thing we’ll never train out’f you. It’s disappointing. We used to be able to do it.”
Jason’s hand had found its way to the side of the door. It dug in and his nails clawed through his gloves. Why did Eric standing farther away from her seem more dangerous than when he’d been next to her? And what was Jason doing – readying a counterattack? A-1s weren’t A-1s because they sat around. If Stephanie was in trouble, there wasn’t a lot he could do. He’d try – but...
“I admire your loyalty. That’s the trade off, I think: heartless bastards like me don’t get those gooey threads of attachment. I’d kick the Agency in the head if their technology wasn’t so useful, so I can’t exactly blame you for doing the opposite and wantin’ to keeping the kid around.” Eric shrugged. “But I don’t recommend it. I’ve seen his record. He’s been amazing at everything that hasn’t related to ‘these kinds’ of assignments. Maybe he’s just not ready, and that makes it kind of unfair to keep him around if he genuinely can’t cut it.”
He could. Jason could. He’d screwed up once or twice – he knew that – and Eric had no proof that he was worth anything because of those mistakes, but he could do this. He’d only been caught off guard before.
“I’ll tell ya what: for free, if you cut ‘im loose, I can wipe away any trace of him having been involved,” he said. “He gets his perfect record back, you remove the wounded limb... hey, y’know...” The man smiled sagely. “If I put a reset on everything that’s happened, there’s no reason for his demotion. I mean – he wouldn’t’ve been around to do that ‘let go’ thing, and you, Steph, would then face a simple choice: if you don’t want somebody new, somebody potentially better to jump in and fill his place, you could always go at it yourself, and I can’t honestly think of a reason why you wouldn’t want to try, considering the problem’s never been that Gwen was uncatchable. You almost had her once before. It’s Xander who keeps getting in the way, but with him here and soon to be disposed of and you in Elmira getting ready to transfer, it looks more and more like smooth sailing if you aren’t lugging Jason around – who, I believe, was the one that got Alex in this to begin with.”
But if he could have his suit back –
“He’s not getting his suit back. I’m not trying to be mean. It’s like what I told him in the car: it’s protocol. My hands are tied with this level of offence, so it’s ‘feeble and wired’ unless you drop him, but if you can’t – well... I’d have to question that decision.”
A hard breath rose up Jason’s throat and refused to go down when he swallowed. Eric did know about what’d been happening, but he stopped before he went any deeper into the issue. It floated around like a playful hint of what could happen, and – dammit, even as he tried, Jason couldn’t hear a threat. What Eric had said sounded more like a... a brotherly warning than any kind of blackmail, which he was powerful enough to not have to resort to, anyway. If he asked Stephanie point-blank about their relationship, and she’d be the last to give away anything incriminating that’d force Eric to react, that’d fuck her over if evidence... revealed otherwise.
“People are going to want to know why you’re insisting on bringing Jason along,” he told her. “Gwen is your primary concern. Underlings and minions and subordinates are meant to disposable support. How do you think this organization could function if every lead spent a week crying about a lackey they lost? Look at Benoit! He had an army and Xander whittled it away, but he’s still going. He might be moody now, but by tomorrow, he’ll be happy as a clam.” ‘Moody’ was an understatement, ‘tomorrow’ was too optimistic, and ‘happy’ could only be in a sentence with an A-3 if it was used sarcastically. “And anyway, keeping him out of harm’s way gives you two more... possibilities after you’ve adopted a stable lifestyle. Say... after you’ve completed your transfer?”
So there it was. A hundred and one reasons for why Jason shouldn’t be on this case, and yet the feeling that he should go continued to linger in his mind. If he felt it, maybe she did. That was bad. In the face of what’d been said, if she continued to press for his involvement, Eric would have to play his hand. Would she? It didn’t matter. Jason wasn’t giving anyone the chance to ruin her.
“The transfer has always been at the top of our list,” he said. Jason’s voice broke the illusion: he wasn’t faded any longer. He stepped away from the door and walked into the room, holding his head up and hoping they didn’t assume he was spying on them in exactly the way he’d been spying on them. “What’s changed is the added variable of Alexander and the host of problems he brought into this. I understand that I made several faulty decisions and impeded our progress by working off of unverified intel, and the one that brought us here was undoubtedly the most severe, but – sir, if you’d humour me, I have something that might justify why I let them go.”
Eric was listening. Jason took the goggles off from around his neck. He was relieved to find the sense of nausea that normally followed in a time of withdrawal was nowhere to be found now. He’d stopped sweating, too. In another hour or so, he might stop looking sick.
“Our target reset my system. It’s been recording everything since that time, including a fair amount of their interactions up to the point of its recovery. Not only do we have an in-depth look into what their thought processes are, but I can show you exactly what I heard when your project told me to let them go,” he said.
“Hm.” Was that a good sound? “The loyalty isn’t lacking. Hey – maybe I didn’t have to worry about those Antis after all. Still, though, it’s good to know what’s out there.” Eric nodded. “Okay. Let’s see it.”
Jason’s hands got such a jolt of excited energy that he nearly dropped his precious equipment. In the first real gesture in line with what A-1s were supposed to act like, Eric twitched his eyebrow in a flat and all-too-readable reply. Jason wasn’t off to a good start, but he had it handled shortly after that. He started skipping ahead to the crucial moment in Elmira, realizing he could even prove his other claim – the one about Alexander charging – in one fell swoop. Pointing the goggles’ projection at the wall, lighting up the room with a sterilized blue and grey, the recording began at as close to the start of the whirring as he could get it. The volume of what was happening was strong. They could hear the sounds of Alexander’s and the Flunky’s fight, but the damn screen had never really been pointed at them. It’d dangled from his hands and swung while he’d been moving, and while he almost wanted to apologize, it’d be another strike against him. This was fine. This was good. The audio was the point and it was all he needed to prove his case.
“... There’s another way out. It’s not protected. It’ll put you out at the street.”
Eric’s eyes were masked by the glare of the projection and his glasses were a blinding reflection of the screen. Even so, it didn’t stop anyone from seeing he was paying full attention to what was happening – and what was happening, going by the sudden dimness in his smile, was not a good thing. As much as Jason would’ve wanted to go on to wonder whether that helped him in his case, his thoughts turned to more important matters when he realized oh for fucking shit it stopped recording.
“It cut out,” he said, dumbly. “But... there’s... no reason for it to cut out. Why did it stop?”
“Did that voice sound Australian to you?”
“What – no.” And then as if the video was mocking him, it snapped back from the dead-black and silent screen the minute his lead arrived and then carried on like nothing was wrong in the slightest! His goggles shared his rage, going fuzzy at the edges, matching his outrage as he let out a furious, “That’s not possible! This has to have been sabotaged!”
“I’ll leave you two to talk it out.” Eric’s phone was suddenly at his ear. “Show this to Benoit when you have a chance. I want his opinion on the fight. Excuse me.”
And he was gone. An incredible emptiness took his place. Jason felt it add to the hopelessness in his hands. Without anything else to do, he shut the projection off, staring into his goggles and looking for an answer. They were sad as he was to realize they didn’t have one.
What the hell happened? Why would everything shut off for those seconds? No one else had touched his goggles once he’d gotten them back – hell, he’d made sure of it, scanning through everything else when he’d rushed here to talk to them – so there was absolutely no explanation for it! What the fuck?
“Something has it out for me,” he muttered. “Something wants me out of here very, very badly.”
“She’s setting it on fire!”
... That’s bad, I take it.
“She’s burning everything,” Alex cried. He was unbelievably grateful he couldn’t feel whatever damage she’d done to his foot plowing into him like that, but it didn’t make it easier to stand up and jerk away from the flames. The heat snapped at his face as it flared up and fizzled out, almost blinding him and holding him back, but he saw her eyes turn over to him before she stomped in. He wasn’t letting Osono get away, for his sake, hers, Gwen’s and anyone’s still inside of there. “She’s completely out of her mind!”
Exactly what part of this isn’t in the plan?
“Fuck you and your stupid plan, Xander,” he said. “There’s a reason I don’t let you come up with any.”
‘I’m Alex and I’m angry. I’m gonna go back up to my apartment –’
“And stop bringing that up,” he snarled, grinding his teeth together as he dragged his dead foot towards the doors. “It was a one time thing.”
Riiiight. Because this is much better. ‘I’m Alex and I just finished pissing off a girl who can melt my cramped head with a wave of her eyelash. I’m going to go chase after her into a confined area now, through the fiery fire, utterly ignoring her intent to – as was expressed in my plan – destroy the shit out’f the rest of it. There’s absolutely no way this could be a bad idea.’
“I’m not going to sit by and let her...” The moment he needed to think of a word to finish that ended quickly. Although the shrubs were still burning and the earlier wave of flames still stung him, the shadows of the Agents, fully outfitted in black bodysuits that he, from years of experience, knew weren’t as armoured as they should’ve been, couldn’t have been more easy to spy than if they’d been wearing neon and holding signs. “Those are... like before –”
Recon. A line of acid wrapped around Xander’s words. Peter’s watching us.
Alex’s stomach twisted. Those two weren’t pretending to be stealthy and they didn’t stop their hopping-sprint all the way into the building. They were inside and out of sight in seconds. Where the hell had they come from? How did they know he – they were here?
“We need to warn her.”
No, now we especially need to stay outside. Give her space to work.
“But she –”
– is in better shape to fight them off than we are. Sorry, I meant ‘me’. Xander turned Alex’s head around, making him scan the horizon for the slightest sign of movement. There was nothing Alex could see, and from the way his eyes didn’t stop scouring the road, Xander wasn’t picking up on anything either. I don’t get it...
“Don’t get what?”
He only sent two, but they’re charging in as if they want a fight. They meant to be seen by us, he said. Peter knows we’re better than that. Two recons are barely a snack. Unless I’m missing the rest of the army, this is laying out a doormat to walk head-first into a trap.
Alex might not have liked the sound of that, but it wasn’t anything less than what he expected. Could they go in now?
“What type of trap are we looking at?”
If he sent us recon, it means they deal in information. We need information because it gets us into Charlton. That can only mean he wants us to go to Charlton, which we have no choice in doing, which we already suspected of being trapped and which he would know we already knew about.
“Okay.”
We’ve got two possibilities: either he’s biting the bullet and getting us to the trap as fast as he can, betting on having what we need to keep us from avoiding the place, or he’s got something else in mind he knows we won’t be prepared for. And then there’s always the third mystery scenario...
“So...?”
I don’t know, man. This was way easier when it was only the French guy.
“We got rid of Peter once before,” Alex said. “Well... enough to lose him for a few years.”
And until we have the answer to that riddle, we’ll be stuck with him for life. He sighed. Alright. Go in. We need to stop her before she sets our invitations on fire.
She would. Alex had that feeling, and those two were too lightly protected to stand up to much more than a candle – aside from the Agent training, of course, but how long would that last against... magma, or whatever she felt like throwing around? He began pulling his foot towards the building again, choking back the paranoia of the entire place exploding in his face the moment he got within lethal range, and peeked at the glass doors. She wasn’t one for keys, then. There were melted ripples along the edges and what hadn’t moved had spit up soot. If he wanted to look in, he’d have to go in. With a tense breath, he pulled his ankle over the cooled pool of door on the ground and entered into the silence.
Whatever damage she was planning on doing hadn’t happened yet. Dark smears of ash and the smell of a distant blaze were everywhere, but she must’ve been biding her time. What was it she’d said about the way she worked? She needed fuel or energy or something like that to get things working. In an office, where the lights were off and the floors were empty, where would fuel be?
“Xander?”
I dunno. Boiler room?
“And where’s that?”
Don’t know. Let me check my magical brain-map. Or we could follow the guys who’re trained to follow other guys. Fine, but where were they? You truly are gonna be hopeless without me. Here’s hoping Gwen doesn’t dump your ass so you get a heads up at least.
Alex stayed focused. He let Xander lead the way to Peter’s latest playmates with quick ‘left’s and ‘right’s, waiting to pick up on whatever was giving them away. Nothing. There were no sounds from any corner of the halls and no trail to follow. It wasn’t until he felt a warm air brushing past him that he realized they were on the right track.
“Osono!” Good. He’d found her. That’s good? “There’s Agents in here. We can’t kill them – they have what we need to get in.”
Hopefully. They should have it. They had it, right?
Can’t think of why they wouldn’t.
She didn’t look happy at all. He was assuming that, anyway, only because he didn’t have a lot of experience in picking emotions out of fire. Alex was not about to apologize for what he said. It was better that she got rid of her delusions now than run into Gwen and Rudy and convince herself that her ‘boyfriend’ was being ‘stolen’. The most he could do was not mention it again, even if he felt obligated to make sure she knew there was nothing between her and that guy other than what the Agency said.
... Huh. He really was a dickwad.
Yeah.
* * *
“You kids and your hormones,” Eric said, walking some steps away as if he were about to start pacing. He didn’t. Instead he stopped and squared his shoulders pointedly, relaxing them in a breath that seemed as much exasperated as it was entertained. “That’s the one thing we’ll never train out’f you. It’s disappointing. We used to be able to do it.”
Jason’s hand had found its way to the side of the door. It dug in and his nails clawed through his gloves. Why did Eric standing farther away from her seem more dangerous than when he’d been next to her? And what was Jason doing – readying a counterattack? A-1s weren’t A-1s because they sat around. If Stephanie was in trouble, there wasn’t a lot he could do. He’d try – but...
“I admire your loyalty. That’s the trade off, I think: heartless bastards like me don’t get those gooey threads of attachment. I’d kick the Agency in the head if their technology wasn’t so useful, so I can’t exactly blame you for doing the opposite and wantin’ to keeping the kid around.” Eric shrugged. “But I don’t recommend it. I’ve seen his record. He’s been amazing at everything that hasn’t related to ‘these kinds’ of assignments. Maybe he’s just not ready, and that makes it kind of unfair to keep him around if he genuinely can’t cut it.”
He could. Jason could. He’d screwed up once or twice – he knew that – and Eric had no proof that he was worth anything because of those mistakes, but he could do this. He’d only been caught off guard before.
“I’ll tell ya what: for free, if you cut ‘im loose, I can wipe away any trace of him having been involved,” he said. “He gets his perfect record back, you remove the wounded limb... hey, y’know...” The man smiled sagely. “If I put a reset on everything that’s happened, there’s no reason for his demotion. I mean – he wouldn’t’ve been around to do that ‘let go’ thing, and you, Steph, would then face a simple choice: if you don’t want somebody new, somebody potentially better to jump in and fill his place, you could always go at it yourself, and I can’t honestly think of a reason why you wouldn’t want to try, considering the problem’s never been that Gwen was uncatchable. You almost had her once before. It’s Xander who keeps getting in the way, but with him here and soon to be disposed of and you in Elmira getting ready to transfer, it looks more and more like smooth sailing if you aren’t lugging Jason around – who, I believe, was the one that got Alex in this to begin with.”
But if he could have his suit back –
“He’s not getting his suit back. I’m not trying to be mean. It’s like what I told him in the car: it’s protocol. My hands are tied with this level of offence, so it’s ‘feeble and wired’ unless you drop him, but if you can’t – well... I’d have to question that decision.”
A hard breath rose up Jason’s throat and refused to go down when he swallowed. Eric did know about what’d been happening, but he stopped before he went any deeper into the issue. It floated around like a playful hint of what could happen, and – dammit, even as he tried, Jason couldn’t hear a threat. What Eric had said sounded more like a... a brotherly warning than any kind of blackmail, which he was powerful enough to not have to resort to, anyway. If he asked Stephanie point-blank about their relationship, and she’d be the last to give away anything incriminating that’d force Eric to react, that’d fuck her over if evidence... revealed otherwise.
“People are going to want to know why you’re insisting on bringing Jason along,” he told her. “Gwen is your primary concern. Underlings and minions and subordinates are meant to disposable support. How do you think this organization could function if every lead spent a week crying about a lackey they lost? Look at Benoit! He had an army and Xander whittled it away, but he’s still going. He might be moody now, but by tomorrow, he’ll be happy as a clam.” ‘Moody’ was an understatement, ‘tomorrow’ was too optimistic, and ‘happy’ could only be in a sentence with an A-3 if it was used sarcastically. “And anyway, keeping him out of harm’s way gives you two more... possibilities after you’ve adopted a stable lifestyle. Say... after you’ve completed your transfer?”
So there it was. A hundred and one reasons for why Jason shouldn’t be on this case, and yet the feeling that he should go continued to linger in his mind. If he felt it, maybe she did. That was bad. In the face of what’d been said, if she continued to press for his involvement, Eric would have to play his hand. Would she? It didn’t matter. Jason wasn’t giving anyone the chance to ruin her.
“The transfer has always been at the top of our list,” he said. Jason’s voice broke the illusion: he wasn’t faded any longer. He stepped away from the door and walked into the room, holding his head up and hoping they didn’t assume he was spying on them in exactly the way he’d been spying on them. “What’s changed is the added variable of Alexander and the host of problems he brought into this. I understand that I made several faulty decisions and impeded our progress by working off of unverified intel, and the one that brought us here was undoubtedly the most severe, but – sir, if you’d humour me, I have something that might justify why I let them go.”
Eric was listening. Jason took the goggles off from around his neck. He was relieved to find the sense of nausea that normally followed in a time of withdrawal was nowhere to be found now. He’d stopped sweating, too. In another hour or so, he might stop looking sick.
“Our target reset my system. It’s been recording everything since that time, including a fair amount of their interactions up to the point of its recovery. Not only do we have an in-depth look into what their thought processes are, but I can show you exactly what I heard when your project told me to let them go,” he said.
“Hm.” Was that a good sound? “The loyalty isn’t lacking. Hey – maybe I didn’t have to worry about those Antis after all. Still, though, it’s good to know what’s out there.” Eric nodded. “Okay. Let’s see it.”
Jason’s hands got such a jolt of excited energy that he nearly dropped his precious equipment. In the first real gesture in line with what A-1s were supposed to act like, Eric twitched his eyebrow in a flat and all-too-readable reply. Jason wasn’t off to a good start, but he had it handled shortly after that. He started skipping ahead to the crucial moment in Elmira, realizing he could even prove his other claim – the one about Alexander charging – in one fell swoop. Pointing the goggles’ projection at the wall, lighting up the room with a sterilized blue and grey, the recording began at as close to the start of the whirring as he could get it. The volume of what was happening was strong. They could hear the sounds of Alexander’s and the Flunky’s fight, but the damn screen had never really been pointed at them. It’d dangled from his hands and swung while he’d been moving, and while he almost wanted to apologize, it’d be another strike against him. This was fine. This was good. The audio was the point and it was all he needed to prove his case.
“... There’s another way out. It’s not protected. It’ll put you out at the street.”
Eric’s eyes were masked by the glare of the projection and his glasses were a blinding reflection of the screen. Even so, it didn’t stop anyone from seeing he was paying full attention to what was happening – and what was happening, going by the sudden dimness in his smile, was not a good thing. As much as Jason would’ve wanted to go on to wonder whether that helped him in his case, his thoughts turned to more important matters when he realized oh for fucking shit it stopped recording.
“It cut out,” he said, dumbly. “But... there’s... no reason for it to cut out. Why did it stop?”
“Did that voice sound Australian to you?”
“What – no.” And then as if the video was mocking him, it snapped back from the dead-black and silent screen the minute his lead arrived and then carried on like nothing was wrong in the slightest! His goggles shared his rage, going fuzzy at the edges, matching his outrage as he let out a furious, “That’s not possible! This has to have been sabotaged!”
“I’ll leave you two to talk it out.” Eric’s phone was suddenly at his ear. “Show this to Benoit when you have a chance. I want his opinion on the fight. Excuse me.”
And he was gone. An incredible emptiness took his place. Jason felt it add to the hopelessness in his hands. Without anything else to do, he shut the projection off, staring into his goggles and looking for an answer. They were sad as he was to realize they didn’t have one.
What the hell happened? Why would everything shut off for those seconds? No one else had touched his goggles once he’d gotten them back – hell, he’d made sure of it, scanning through everything else when he’d rushed here to talk to them – so there was absolutely no explanation for it! What the fuck?
“Something has it out for me,” he muttered. “Something wants me out of here very, very badly.”
Last edited by Tartra on Sat May 14, 2011 8:50 am; 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 Tue Nov 09, 2010 1:02 pm
"Where the fuck is my phone!? Shit!" a distraught Rudy exclaimed, smashing his fist angrily at the dashboard as he cursed again.
Gwen flinched with the violent movement and tried to shy away from him just in case he decided to take his anger out on her, doing her best to become a part of her seat. It had been at least a half an hour since they'd encountered Officer Frewer and still, there was no sign of the reinforcements he'd called and the distant sirens had died back the way they'd come. In the meantime, Rudy had become more and more distressed, muttering openly to himself and cursing anxiously, his dialogue punctuated by these little bursts of anger that made everything, within reach in the car, a target for his frustration and rage.
"Dammit! Now I can't call in for a change of cars - and you KNOW that asshole wrote down my license plate number. I need to get rid of this car soon," he said, looking warily out at the other drivers sharing the road with him, before wiping the sweat off his forehead with his forearm.
That was another thing. In addition to the paranoid and almost frantic look in his eyes, Rudy had begun to sweat, even though she felt his body shivering occasionally. And Gwen knew it was his newly acquired wound that was the problem. The only thing he'd done so far to deal with the hole going through his shoulder, had been to stuff a bunch of napkins - handily kept in the glove box - inside his shirt. His seat and clothes were soaked in his blood and she was growing more and more worried about the very real possibility of him passing out.
"And oh fuck! What if Patten calls and I don't answer!? Another few thousand demotions, I just know it!" he ran a trembling hand through his hair and cast a wild look around that included another desperate glance in the rearview mirror. "Which sucks, because I just got done programming his ringtone as the Imperial March..." He glanced at Gwen and held her gaze for several moments before muttering, "Fucking epic, right?"
Gwen took that as his including her in a conversation and decided to voice her concerns. She didn't care if Rudy crashed and died, but with her tied defenseless in the car with him, it was another story - did this car even have a passenger seat air bag? "Rudy," she said hesitantly, pausing and licking her lips to wet them before continuing. "I think you need to stop. You're going into shock and you're losing a lot of blood--"
"OH! Thank you, Dr. Gwen, freaking medicine woman! When I want your diagnosis - which I don't and I won't - then you'll hear me...I don't know... I guess ask you or something..." He paused and thought it over. "Just shut the fuck up, alright!? God..." he moaned breathlessly as another sharp pain lanced through his tense body, leaning his head on the steering wheel and watching the road through the open sections on the leather wheel itself. "My whole fucking body hurts...heh..." As he leaned back up, a small uneven and breathy laugh left his lips and he glanced at her, his eyes sweeping over her with a thick glaze.
This was not good. She'd thought he'd been unstable before but this... What she'd hoped would be her moment of salvation had turned out to be the worst possible thing for her and was probably going to end up with them driving off the edge of the road into a hilltop ravine somewhere. Thinking that his weakened state would hopefully make him more susceptible to her powers, Gwen probed into his mind and nearly broke into a smile to realize he had let his guard down. As soon as she started to probe further into him however, she gasped as his hand whipped out to strike her quickly on the cheek, knocking her head back against her chair.
"Not right now!" he screamed at her, his voice cracking insanely. "NOT. RIGHT. NOW!!!"
She couldn't take this! She had to do something! But more and more, it was looking like all the room she had to move around in was just to get herself comfy in her seat and await her fate. Yet again, she tried to press the distance between her and Alex, pushed not by panic but desperation now, not really sure what she wanted to say to him but just wanting to make some sort of contact with him before her impending death in a car crash.
I...don't know if you can hear me... she said, her internal voice echoing with emotion as she began to cry softly. But where ever you are...
Gwen stopped and wept, uncertain if that foggy signature was really him or if she was just making it up inside her head to comfort herself before Rudy would decide to turn their car into a fast-moving weapon. She thought about all she'd been through with Alex and Xander both, and how she felt towards each of them and treated this as if it were her last conversation with them. She remembered her life before them, holed up in her apartment, distant yet friendly with everyone and not connecting with anyone. She'd been lonely but content, comforted by her routine and almost hermetic lifestyle, focusing on small things that she could control, like her books and the characters in her writing.
It had been that stalker who'd messed things up for her. John Tagman. A fan who'd shown up at a few of her book signings last year, gushing over her series, he'd been a bit awkward but enthusiastic, leading from a discussion of her character Elynsynos - one of the main male characters that he'd felt a connection to - into asking her on a date. She'd felt flattered by his almost boyish awkwardness, as if she were someone great and he was nervous about talking to, but had declined respectfully trying not to wound his feelings at the same time. He'd been fine with that, seemingly understanding of her decision, even playfully so and he'd left without getting weird or emotional. He'd just been a nice, quirky fella who liked her books - when the target audience was highschool girls and women, it was always a little funny to her to get the occasional man who liked her novels as well.
After that, she'd forgotten about Tagman and went on with her life. A few weeks later she received the first of what would be many packages, on her doorstep. It had been a simple rose with a love poem attached, the tone of which hinted at a personal relationship with her but the language used was of a general yearning. She hadn't thought anything of it but kept it nonetheless. A few more packages later, each getting more intimate than the last - the notes discussing things like lunch she'd had with her mother, her current relationship with an artist named Mickey and how the author of the note could tell he didn't love her and things weren't going to work out, discussing her favorite foods, favorite shows, wanting to curl up in bed with her at night, etc. - and the packages themselves had become more disturbing in nature. One of them had been a dead cat that looked like someone had tried to skin it with a lawnmower left in a box on her doorstep. Having read the note that said something to the effect of "When your boyfriend fucks you this is how I feel/what I feel like doing to you..." she'd fucking called the police.
It hadn't been hard for the cops to find him - apparently Tagman had a little bit of a record - and soon after that, they let her know that the situation had been handled and that she wouldn't be bothered again. And she hadn't been. The scar had been left however and the residue of that feeling of being intimately watched stayed with her until she didn't like going out in public anymore. She broke up with her boyfriend and spent the next year staying away from people, trying to move on with her life and finding consolation in writing the rest of her 5th and final novel in the Nightshade series. By the time Alex had come along, she'd begun to feel normal again, the trauma fading and she was even a bit lonely, her mundane life and the cage she'd locked herself in starting to feel less like home and more like a prison. He'd rescued her from more than just Agents.
I just want you to know... she started again, the tears clearing up and a calm descending upon her. That no matter what happens when I get to Charlton, I had the best time of my life being on this adventure with you and I don't regret a moment of it--
The flimsy contact she'd had was broken abruptly as she noticed Rudy turning off of the highway into another rural town. Gwen hadn't been paying attention to his ranting up until now, so she missed out on the cause of this detour, but was quickly filled in as he continued to murmur to himself. He was still looking to abandon the car and find a replacement. Maybe he would pass out while they were stationary afterall? It would definitely be better than while driving a moving car. So, even though she doubted the police were even close to finding them, she kept quiet as he drove through town, waiting and hoping that he'd fall asleep soon and she could get away from him.
At one point, they passed a large church with the parking lot filled and he slowed down beside it, looking at the cars. Probing inside the building, Gwen sensed that there was a wedding going on this beautiful Saturday morning. From the images in the different guests minds, she thought it was a very lovely event. Why was Rudy interested? Obviously the cars had something to do with it and she shook her head in disapproval.
"You're going to hijack a car from a wedding?"
"Are you sure it's not a funeral? I woulda liked to drive a hearse." He ignored or didn't see the abhorred look on her face. She had no doubt he wouldn't have any qualms about stealing such a vehicle, especially if it had the coffin and body inside it!
Driving past the church, he found a secluded lot on the other side of a small hardware store and parked in the shade of several ash trees. While he leaned across the seats to dig around in the back for something, Gwen reached out and probed the surrounding area for any allies. Maybe this was it. Another chance to escape. If she could just find someone willing to take an axe to Rudy's skull...
Then Quin had what he'd been digging for, a small folded fabric binder that she instantly recognized from her stay at the hotel.
"Rudy...please... please don't... I promise, I'll stop trying to hurt you! I promise I won't interfere!"
From out of the case he brought out a vial of clear liquid and a syringe and began to fill it with a very sizable dose. "Heh, yeah and we both know how good your word is, don't we? In fact, it's something I feel in my nose." Finally he turned to her, wielding the small needle in one hand and grabbing at her with the other as she whimpered in protest. She squirmed agitatedly as it stuck into the side of her neck, but she couldn't shake him loose before her movements became too sluggish and consciousness faded from her.
"There we go," he said pleasantly, tossing the syringe aside and casting a paranoid look out the car windows.
Fuel. She needed it in order to bask in the growth and life of the flames, and she searched the first rooms and entry hall for something to set on fire. Briefly, she waved her hand at the walls and a few potted plants setting them alight, but she didn't let the fires that burst into being stay. As much as setting the whole place on fire would give her that boost and strength she needed, it was dangerous to do so before she was ready to leave. Naturally, the fires that sprang up would never hurt her or touch her with more than a warm embrace, and with everything covered wall-to-wall in burning glory, she could walk out the front doors without a scratch. But in her experience, burning buildings tended to fall apart and with how eagerly the fires moved to consume everything with her around, she'd pose a danger to herself burning everything on her way in.
Other than a few accent plants, there was a large desk in front of the doors, but it was thick metal and would take more energy to burn; expelling large amounts of energy was not what she needed at the moment, but rather a big fire done quickly with little effort. An explosion would feel good right about now. Ozzie wasn't very well-versed in what an office building held - suits and desks were for squares - but it was a big enough place that she automatically assumed there would be a large and complex heating system involved to keep the building from freezing in the winter. Usually a room housing that equipment would either be on the ground floor or in the basement, so with that in mind, she made her way quickly, searching for it. She didn't have a map, but held onto the hope that her instincts would kick in when she sensed there was "food" nearby.
Even with her attention focused on finding something flammable, Ozzie let her rage build thinking back over the things Alex had said. He was such a jerk! He'd already mentioned it and she'd even said it herself - she didn't need to come along to help him as she was barely involved. Here he was limping along on a leg that was obviously damaged in a way that wasn't going to get better from running around on it and he was expecting to charge blindly into where ever they had stuffed his girlfriend away and not get himself killed. She'd seen him fight of course, and he could more than hold his own against these assholes who'd failed to even touch her with her "training" being nothing more than biker club hand-me down tips. And that boost Gwen had given him would definitely help to electrocute anybody who came too close with the intent to harm him.
But having her along would definitely even the odds if he were to be overwhelmed. It more than assured their victory in any fight and she was here on her own willing to help him, out of the kindness of her fucking heart because she knew he couldn't do it without her. So why he kept acting like she was just following him around for his damn company... And telling her not to kill anybody? Was he fucking mental? They were in a war with these people! And she knew They had a habit of mimicking regular people as well - that is, up until the moment they tried to jump you. So everybody was a possible threat and expendable. Not that she went around actively killing anyone who looked at her wrong, but if she needed to blow up a building or a gas station to get away and save herself from being overwhelmed, she wasn't going to wait and try and evacuate everybody before setting the "match." It was her or them and she was done looking out for the general public.
In her old life, having a "standard" hadn't helped her one bit and Ozzie was frustrated that Alex was trying to fit her into that restrictive mold again. And then there was Rudy... Clenching her fists tighter and grinding her teeth, the fires around her body flared up even brighter as rage pulsed through her again. She would show him. She would show all of those Agent fuckers. Next time she saw Rudy, she was going to bathe in his blood, no matter what Alex's conscience said. Redemption and moderation were not in her vocabulary.
She'd gone quite a ways within the maze of hallways, still looking for her new fuel source when Alex called out behind her. Turning, she sneered at him through the fire, feeling the heat of their argument blazing through her body all over again at the sight of him.
"What are you doing in here, scumbag?" Osono asked in her raspy voice, cutting through the air with her caustic tone. "Got a death wish? Or have you come to check up on me? I TOLD you I'm not gonna kill anybody, you pompous ass! I don't need you to babysit me! I'VE GOT IT UNDER CONTROL!" It did not occur to her the incongruity of screaming that statement.
God! Why didn't he just stay the fuck outside? Not only did having him around and hearing him speak remind her of how much she hated his guts, but the fact that he was here trying to prove something by reiterating exactly what she said she wasn't going to do! True, there was the whole explosion thing still calling to her, but she wasn't at a point where she could think rationally about this. He was trying to say that she was like a wildfire that couldn't be controlled, that he needed to be here to protect people from her! She hated him so fucking much!
As these thoughts bubbled up inside her, the flames on her hair and shoulders climbed higher until they licked at the ceiling, wraith-like tendrils of bright orange light snaking along the foam grid panels. A few sprinklers that had been sitting balefully quiet this whole time, eventually gave into the urge and heat of her and burst to liquid life, spitting rain frantically down upon them accompanied by a shrill alarm. The flames around Osono's body quickly went down as she was drenched until she was left looking down at her hands and blinking wetly at herself. Nothing had happened except now it would be harder for her to maintain a fire with the constant wetness soaking everything. She hadn't been thinking clearly but hadn't meant to get that upset.
Slowly, she looked up at Alex, obviously bereft from the absence of her fire and shrugged at him in the dim hallway. "Oops..." Then her eyes caught sight of something just a little ways from him, a short distance between them. There was a spot on the floor where the raining water didn't land like it did everywhere else. Alarmed, Osono pointed at it, "Alex! What is that?" Not having ever encountered an invisible person before, she honestly didn't know what to make of the weird spot on the ground - maybe there was something he could see from his end?
Not a second later after being revealed, the spot was suddenly moving and wet footsteps could be heard pounding towards her in a charge. Surprised by the sudden unseen attack being launched upon her, Osono stood there gaping with her fists half-raised before the imprint of a fist smashed into her face and knocked her off her feet. Landing with a grunt onto her side in the puddle that was forming on the floor tiles, she shook her head and grimaced before moving her legs in a swift sweep along the ground where the attack had originated. She wasn't quick enough to catch whoever it was and they'd moved before she had. What was worse, she was barely rising from the ground when a second hit took her in the gut, stunning her with the force of it.
What was this? Invisible Agents? Even with the movements of the "ghost" being half-discerned by the droplets they stopped from falling, she couldn't fixate on their body mass enough to land a blow and they moved too quickly for her to focus on them. On hands and knees and sensing that another blow was coming soon, she murmured, "Sorry, Alex," before she lit the match in her mind's eye and lashed out towards the moving target.
Flames burst instantly to life on the fabric of her foe's leg, despite the liquid covering everything in heavy layers, her will pushing the fire to consume more of him, letting it spread on his knee and calf, even as keeping it lit against the sprinklers ate away at her energy. Even so, the new fire filled her with strength and disoriented him enough to stay any other attacks, leaving an opening - and also identifying his location - for her to move forward and cram her fist into his stomach. One thing she became immediately aware of after that brief contact with the front of his body and the two mounds on his chest, was that her adversary was not a man but actually a woman and she was wearing some kind of slick, thin outfit.
The fire on the Agent's leg only gave her a brief advantage and the other woman didn't seem to care about it even when the smell of burning flesh filled the air, continuing to launch an invisible assault to subdue Ozzie. Luckily for her, the new fire eating away at her "friend" filled her limbs and muscles with a surge of power that ignored her fastly depleting energy stores, and the blows that were landed by the other hit their mark as if Osono were wearing armor herself. She'd definitely feel the blows later, though; this bitch could throw a punch!
When Master got down to the deal he wanted to make with her, Stephanie's heart flew for a few seconds before crashing back down to earth. Of course. Why would she even think that she'd get to have her cake and eat it too? Especially after basically revealing to her boss, the intricacies of her one weakness on this case. And the choice he presented was not one she wanted to make - she'd be losing something both ways. Then she chided herself for even thinking that. This was for Jason's benefit, to help him. It was why she'd even gotten enough courage to ask Master about it in the first place. And she even reasoned, that the warning he gave was a lot less serious than it felt. Mostly, she was interested in what her partner would get out of this rather than what she could possibly lose by keeping him around.
What would Jason want her to do? He'd wanted to leave before, to the point where he risked bodily harm to get it from her. But in the car, he'd said... But with the chance to get everything he'd lost - minus the suit - back, it changed things drastically. And everything Master said, made sense and hit home as things she'd considered and discarded because of her selfish desire to keep her plaything turned companion by her side. It made her realize that if she really did feel anything for him other than pleasure at his torment, she needed to stop putting him through this. Maybe Master was right. Everything was basically a done deal, and she'd be far enough away from Alexander to make the transfer go through without a hitch. She could do it on her own...
And then her body stiffened at the sound of Jason's voice suddenly filling the air and she blinked in surprise at the door as he stepped forward into the room. How...how long had he been there? Had Master known? Oh, God! How much had he heard? Everything? Even what she'd said? In place of worrying about that, however, she was suddenly more interested in what Jason was saying now about his goggles. A possible answer to the problem he'd faced in Elmira! She had to admit, she was very interested as well, hoping to find some sort of explanation for what had occurred with Nathan.
Watching the feed - well, more listening to it; so, Jason hadn't jumped to repair his equipment when he'd gotten them back - she tried to focus on what the "boy" had said before it suddenly went blank. It was like watching a suspenseful television show and having it cut out in the middle of the climax, and she felt the urge to shake the "T.V.". Then it was back a moment later, as if nothing had happened and she heard the sounds of the Elmira elevator platform coming to a stop. As Jason lamented to Eric about the loss of the important part of the recording, Stephanie found her attention still fixed on what was happening in the recording.
She'd arrived and had demanded in her dead, monotone voice that he give her a detailed report on what had occurred in her absence. She remembered that and how she'd felt back then. There had been a burst of excitement inside her at the sight of Jason and the urge to physically hurt him had come over her. As they were left alone, she could hear it more clearly, the sound of her close to him, half-seen by the dangling goggles as he was grabbed by the hair and pulled violently towards her. She remembered the way that his hair had felt, the delight coursing through her fingers to feel the skin of his scalp shiver in a held-in, silent agony that she'd created.
When Jason turned it off, she blinked rapidly and took in a deep breath, blushing when she realized that had been a bit like watching porn for her. Looking at him, she wanted to hurt him like that again, her fingers itching with the desire to tug and pull at his hair--and it wasn't more than a second when she had that thought that she found her fingers smoothing through his curly locks, cradling the back of his neck gently as she latched onto his lips. Master and the whole discussion that'd been had, left her completely as her mouth melded with his, her senses suddenly overwhelmed by him.
For several moments, the room was filled with nothing but the small wet clicks and smacks of her lips moving passionately over his, before finally they stopped. She did not draw back right away however, keeping close enough to run her tongue along his upper lip, tracing it lightly, her fingers curling and recurling over his strands of hair. Finally, she seemed to remember personal space and moved back enough to talk to him.
"In that case, maybe it'd be better for you if I took his offer, then?" she asked in a slight whisper, responding to what he'd said in regards to something not wanting him to stay. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she nuzzled into his neck as if she could hide herself from the world just by being closer to him. "I don't know what I want anymore... There's Gwen... There's you... I...just want to stop hurting you so much. And it sounds crazy, I know, but I cannot help it and I cannot find the will to care what they'd think.
"I couldn't get him to give you your suit back... I don't know why I thought I could. Even now, Master's offer feels like he's playing games with me...testing me, trying to make me stronger... I don't want to give into it, but there's too much for you to gain - you could start over, wipe the slate clean. You could erase me and what I and this case have done to you. You could be perfect again..." She trembled slightly against him and took a deep breath through her nose, smelling him, calming herself.
"I know what you must think of me... that I'm some type of monster out to get you, and in the beginning, I did play that way. I just wanted you to look at me. I wanted to be your terror and your horror, to consume you like I do everything else and toss away your empty shell when I was done. But things are different...and I realize..I love you too much to destroy you completely..." She hugged him tighter then, her body molding with his for a few moments. Love? Did she mean that? It wasn't something she was aware she even knew how to say anymore. But it felt good to say it to him...
"I know the important thing is the transfer and the case. It always has been. But I just...couldn't help but feel like I wanted you there...by my side...to watch me become better than I am... I suppose it's silly to think it's a moment worth sharing..."
Letting him go, she stood back from him and ran a hand through her hair that had grown a bit stringy these past few days and she looked everywhere but at him. "I'll get the necessary paperwork and I'll fill them out - you won't need to worry about it. I haven't really given much thought about post-transfer, except to hope that I might become an A-2 and look after a base of my own or something. Maybe Master is right... Maybe after the transfer, it'd be better...for us."
There she went assuming things again. Formal. He liked things formal and here she was getting weepy over losing him and saying things that didn't matter in regards to her case. It couldn't be helped. Sure, she might not care what the higher-ups thought of her - so long as they got results, they didn't care as much about her sex life as she'd been led to believe. But it would not be good for him to continue to be dragged around on her leash just because she was lonely. Not when he could have everything back with the snap of an A-1's fingers. She had to make sacrifices somewhere and as long as it let her keep Gwen, she would do anything for him. Why did everything have to be so complicated?
Trying not to look into his face, she held out her hand stiffly as if she wanted him to shake it. This was a proper goodbye. Distanced. Generic. He would appreciate that, as opposed to the kisses she'd given him that he hadn't asked for and probably didn't want. Kisses she'd stolen from him. As she waited for his hand to join hers, she felt the sickness that had assaulted her on the plane start to rise up in her stomach. The weight that she'd originally associated with the Atropytamine withdrawal came as well, bearing down heavily on her shoulders as if gravity was intent on crushing her. A headache lanced through her skull as she internally chanted to herself that she could do this on her own, and she wondered if goodbye was supposed to always feel like dying...
The pain in his nose had dulled to a dim ache that made the whole center of his face feel like a numb hole, so he'd forgotten about the broken nose. And he'd run out of things on which to wipe his blood to clean himself off, so he was pretty much stuck looking like this until he got to Charlton. Walking through the parking lot, he made his way through the aisles of cars, looking for one to use as his getaway. He didn't have his lock picking set with him, so he was really just praying someone would be stupid enough to leave the door open and even more, that they'd have left their keys behind.
Eventually, he neared the front of the church and noticed two guys standing around an idling car, almost as if they were waiting for someone. Rudy's eyes swept over the vehicle, not noticing the white drawings of smiley faces and hearts with signs like "Love" and "Forever" on the windows. He especially didn't notice the "Just Married" sign on the back window either. All he saw was an operational car and a quick and easy escape. As he approached, he glanced around to make sure there were no other witnesses at the moment and pleased with the empty street, he put on a smile and walked up to the two men in suits.
"Hey there," Rudy said pleasantly. "Special day, huh?"
The guy's stopped talking as soon as he came within ear shot and both stopped lounging on the car to look warily at him. "Man...are you okay? Do you need to be taken to a hospital or something?"
"Probably, heh," he said, nodding his head in an amused fashion before pulling his gun from his pocket. Both men fell in two flashes of light.
Gwen flinched with the violent movement and tried to shy away from him just in case he decided to take his anger out on her, doing her best to become a part of her seat. It had been at least a half an hour since they'd encountered Officer Frewer and still, there was no sign of the reinforcements he'd called and the distant sirens had died back the way they'd come. In the meantime, Rudy had become more and more distressed, muttering openly to himself and cursing anxiously, his dialogue punctuated by these little bursts of anger that made everything, within reach in the car, a target for his frustration and rage.
"Dammit! Now I can't call in for a change of cars - and you KNOW that asshole wrote down my license plate number. I need to get rid of this car soon," he said, looking warily out at the other drivers sharing the road with him, before wiping the sweat off his forehead with his forearm.
That was another thing. In addition to the paranoid and almost frantic look in his eyes, Rudy had begun to sweat, even though she felt his body shivering occasionally. And Gwen knew it was his newly acquired wound that was the problem. The only thing he'd done so far to deal with the hole going through his shoulder, had been to stuff a bunch of napkins - handily kept in the glove box - inside his shirt. His seat and clothes were soaked in his blood and she was growing more and more worried about the very real possibility of him passing out.
"And oh fuck! What if Patten calls and I don't answer!? Another few thousand demotions, I just know it!" he ran a trembling hand through his hair and cast a wild look around that included another desperate glance in the rearview mirror. "Which sucks, because I just got done programming his ringtone as the Imperial March..." He glanced at Gwen and held her gaze for several moments before muttering, "Fucking epic, right?"
Gwen took that as his including her in a conversation and decided to voice her concerns. She didn't care if Rudy crashed and died, but with her tied defenseless in the car with him, it was another story - did this car even have a passenger seat air bag? "Rudy," she said hesitantly, pausing and licking her lips to wet them before continuing. "I think you need to stop. You're going into shock and you're losing a lot of blood--"
"OH! Thank you, Dr. Gwen, freaking medicine woman! When I want your diagnosis - which I don't and I won't - then you'll hear me...I don't know... I guess ask you or something..." He paused and thought it over. "Just shut the fuck up, alright!? God..." he moaned breathlessly as another sharp pain lanced through his tense body, leaning his head on the steering wheel and watching the road through the open sections on the leather wheel itself. "My whole fucking body hurts...heh..." As he leaned back up, a small uneven and breathy laugh left his lips and he glanced at her, his eyes sweeping over her with a thick glaze.
This was not good. She'd thought he'd been unstable before but this... What she'd hoped would be her moment of salvation had turned out to be the worst possible thing for her and was probably going to end up with them driving off the edge of the road into a hilltop ravine somewhere. Thinking that his weakened state would hopefully make him more susceptible to her powers, Gwen probed into his mind and nearly broke into a smile to realize he had let his guard down. As soon as she started to probe further into him however, she gasped as his hand whipped out to strike her quickly on the cheek, knocking her head back against her chair.
"Not right now!" he screamed at her, his voice cracking insanely. "NOT. RIGHT. NOW!!!"
She couldn't take this! She had to do something! But more and more, it was looking like all the room she had to move around in was just to get herself comfy in her seat and await her fate. Yet again, she tried to press the distance between her and Alex, pushed not by panic but desperation now, not really sure what she wanted to say to him but just wanting to make some sort of contact with him before her impending death in a car crash.
I...don't know if you can hear me... she said, her internal voice echoing with emotion as she began to cry softly. But where ever you are...
Gwen stopped and wept, uncertain if that foggy signature was really him or if she was just making it up inside her head to comfort herself before Rudy would decide to turn their car into a fast-moving weapon. She thought about all she'd been through with Alex and Xander both, and how she felt towards each of them and treated this as if it were her last conversation with them. She remembered her life before them, holed up in her apartment, distant yet friendly with everyone and not connecting with anyone. She'd been lonely but content, comforted by her routine and almost hermetic lifestyle, focusing on small things that she could control, like her books and the characters in her writing.
It had been that stalker who'd messed things up for her. John Tagman. A fan who'd shown up at a few of her book signings last year, gushing over her series, he'd been a bit awkward but enthusiastic, leading from a discussion of her character Elynsynos - one of the main male characters that he'd felt a connection to - into asking her on a date. She'd felt flattered by his almost boyish awkwardness, as if she were someone great and he was nervous about talking to, but had declined respectfully trying not to wound his feelings at the same time. He'd been fine with that, seemingly understanding of her decision, even playfully so and he'd left without getting weird or emotional. He'd just been a nice, quirky fella who liked her books - when the target audience was highschool girls and women, it was always a little funny to her to get the occasional man who liked her novels as well.
After that, she'd forgotten about Tagman and went on with her life. A few weeks later she received the first of what would be many packages, on her doorstep. It had been a simple rose with a love poem attached, the tone of which hinted at a personal relationship with her but the language used was of a general yearning. She hadn't thought anything of it but kept it nonetheless. A few more packages later, each getting more intimate than the last - the notes discussing things like lunch she'd had with her mother, her current relationship with an artist named Mickey and how the author of the note could tell he didn't love her and things weren't going to work out, discussing her favorite foods, favorite shows, wanting to curl up in bed with her at night, etc. - and the packages themselves had become more disturbing in nature. One of them had been a dead cat that looked like someone had tried to skin it with a lawnmower left in a box on her doorstep. Having read the note that said something to the effect of "When your boyfriend fucks you this is how I feel/what I feel like doing to you..." she'd fucking called the police.
It hadn't been hard for the cops to find him - apparently Tagman had a little bit of a record - and soon after that, they let her know that the situation had been handled and that she wouldn't be bothered again. And she hadn't been. The scar had been left however and the residue of that feeling of being intimately watched stayed with her until she didn't like going out in public anymore. She broke up with her boyfriend and spent the next year staying away from people, trying to move on with her life and finding consolation in writing the rest of her 5th and final novel in the Nightshade series. By the time Alex had come along, she'd begun to feel normal again, the trauma fading and she was even a bit lonely, her mundane life and the cage she'd locked herself in starting to feel less like home and more like a prison. He'd rescued her from more than just Agents.
I just want you to know... she started again, the tears clearing up and a calm descending upon her. That no matter what happens when I get to Charlton, I had the best time of my life being on this adventure with you and I don't regret a moment of it--
The flimsy contact she'd had was broken abruptly as she noticed Rudy turning off of the highway into another rural town. Gwen hadn't been paying attention to his ranting up until now, so she missed out on the cause of this detour, but was quickly filled in as he continued to murmur to himself. He was still looking to abandon the car and find a replacement. Maybe he would pass out while they were stationary afterall? It would definitely be better than while driving a moving car. So, even though she doubted the police were even close to finding them, she kept quiet as he drove through town, waiting and hoping that he'd fall asleep soon and she could get away from him.
At one point, they passed a large church with the parking lot filled and he slowed down beside it, looking at the cars. Probing inside the building, Gwen sensed that there was a wedding going on this beautiful Saturday morning. From the images in the different guests minds, she thought it was a very lovely event. Why was Rudy interested? Obviously the cars had something to do with it and she shook her head in disapproval.
"You're going to hijack a car from a wedding?"
"Are you sure it's not a funeral? I woulda liked to drive a hearse." He ignored or didn't see the abhorred look on her face. She had no doubt he wouldn't have any qualms about stealing such a vehicle, especially if it had the coffin and body inside it!
Driving past the church, he found a secluded lot on the other side of a small hardware store and parked in the shade of several ash trees. While he leaned across the seats to dig around in the back for something, Gwen reached out and probed the surrounding area for any allies. Maybe this was it. Another chance to escape. If she could just find someone willing to take an axe to Rudy's skull...
Then Quin had what he'd been digging for, a small folded fabric binder that she instantly recognized from her stay at the hotel.
"Rudy...please... please don't... I promise, I'll stop trying to hurt you! I promise I won't interfere!"
From out of the case he brought out a vial of clear liquid and a syringe and began to fill it with a very sizable dose. "Heh, yeah and we both know how good your word is, don't we? In fact, it's something I feel in my nose." Finally he turned to her, wielding the small needle in one hand and grabbing at her with the other as she whimpered in protest. She squirmed agitatedly as it stuck into the side of her neck, but she couldn't shake him loose before her movements became too sluggish and consciousness faded from her.
"There we go," he said pleasantly, tossing the syringe aside and casting a paranoid look out the car windows.
***
Through a haze of fire, Osono regarded the dimly lit space, the light of her body and sunlight coming through the front doors and windows illuminating everything to her shining eyes. The anger that swelled within her helped feed the core of the flames as the fire she now wore filled her with a sense of euphoria to be bonded with it so closely. As a result, she let herself forget for the time being why she was in here, mowing a path of destruction with every step, her heart pounding with the beat of chaos.Fuel. She needed it in order to bask in the growth and life of the flames, and she searched the first rooms and entry hall for something to set on fire. Briefly, she waved her hand at the walls and a few potted plants setting them alight, but she didn't let the fires that burst into being stay. As much as setting the whole place on fire would give her that boost and strength she needed, it was dangerous to do so before she was ready to leave. Naturally, the fires that sprang up would never hurt her or touch her with more than a warm embrace, and with everything covered wall-to-wall in burning glory, she could walk out the front doors without a scratch. But in her experience, burning buildings tended to fall apart and with how eagerly the fires moved to consume everything with her around, she'd pose a danger to herself burning everything on her way in.
Other than a few accent plants, there was a large desk in front of the doors, but it was thick metal and would take more energy to burn; expelling large amounts of energy was not what she needed at the moment, but rather a big fire done quickly with little effort. An explosion would feel good right about now. Ozzie wasn't very well-versed in what an office building held - suits and desks were for squares - but it was a big enough place that she automatically assumed there would be a large and complex heating system involved to keep the building from freezing in the winter. Usually a room housing that equipment would either be on the ground floor or in the basement, so with that in mind, she made her way quickly, searching for it. She didn't have a map, but held onto the hope that her instincts would kick in when she sensed there was "food" nearby.
Even with her attention focused on finding something flammable, Ozzie let her rage build thinking back over the things Alex had said. He was such a jerk! He'd already mentioned it and she'd even said it herself - she didn't need to come along to help him as she was barely involved. Here he was limping along on a leg that was obviously damaged in a way that wasn't going to get better from running around on it and he was expecting to charge blindly into where ever they had stuffed his girlfriend away and not get himself killed. She'd seen him fight of course, and he could more than hold his own against these assholes who'd failed to even touch her with her "training" being nothing more than biker club hand-me down tips. And that boost Gwen had given him would definitely help to electrocute anybody who came too close with the intent to harm him.
But having her along would definitely even the odds if he were to be overwhelmed. It more than assured their victory in any fight and she was here on her own willing to help him, out of the kindness of her fucking heart because she knew he couldn't do it without her. So why he kept acting like she was just following him around for his damn company... And telling her not to kill anybody? Was he fucking mental? They were in a war with these people! And she knew They had a habit of mimicking regular people as well - that is, up until the moment they tried to jump you. So everybody was a possible threat and expendable. Not that she went around actively killing anyone who looked at her wrong, but if she needed to blow up a building or a gas station to get away and save herself from being overwhelmed, she wasn't going to wait and try and evacuate everybody before setting the "match." It was her or them and she was done looking out for the general public.
In her old life, having a "standard" hadn't helped her one bit and Ozzie was frustrated that Alex was trying to fit her into that restrictive mold again. And then there was Rudy... Clenching her fists tighter and grinding her teeth, the fires around her body flared up even brighter as rage pulsed through her again. She would show him. She would show all of those Agent fuckers. Next time she saw Rudy, she was going to bathe in his blood, no matter what Alex's conscience said. Redemption and moderation were not in her vocabulary.
She'd gone quite a ways within the maze of hallways, still looking for her new fuel source when Alex called out behind her. Turning, she sneered at him through the fire, feeling the heat of their argument blazing through her body all over again at the sight of him.
"What are you doing in here, scumbag?" Osono asked in her raspy voice, cutting through the air with her caustic tone. "Got a death wish? Or have you come to check up on me? I TOLD you I'm not gonna kill anybody, you pompous ass! I don't need you to babysit me! I'VE GOT IT UNDER CONTROL!" It did not occur to her the incongruity of screaming that statement.
God! Why didn't he just stay the fuck outside? Not only did having him around and hearing him speak remind her of how much she hated his guts, but the fact that he was here trying to prove something by reiterating exactly what she said she wasn't going to do! True, there was the whole explosion thing still calling to her, but she wasn't at a point where she could think rationally about this. He was trying to say that she was like a wildfire that couldn't be controlled, that he needed to be here to protect people from her! She hated him so fucking much!
As these thoughts bubbled up inside her, the flames on her hair and shoulders climbed higher until they licked at the ceiling, wraith-like tendrils of bright orange light snaking along the foam grid panels. A few sprinklers that had been sitting balefully quiet this whole time, eventually gave into the urge and heat of her and burst to liquid life, spitting rain frantically down upon them accompanied by a shrill alarm. The flames around Osono's body quickly went down as she was drenched until she was left looking down at her hands and blinking wetly at herself. Nothing had happened except now it would be harder for her to maintain a fire with the constant wetness soaking everything. She hadn't been thinking clearly but hadn't meant to get that upset.
Slowly, she looked up at Alex, obviously bereft from the absence of her fire and shrugged at him in the dim hallway. "Oops..." Then her eyes caught sight of something just a little ways from him, a short distance between them. There was a spot on the floor where the raining water didn't land like it did everywhere else. Alarmed, Osono pointed at it, "Alex! What is that?" Not having ever encountered an invisible person before, she honestly didn't know what to make of the weird spot on the ground - maybe there was something he could see from his end?
Not a second later after being revealed, the spot was suddenly moving and wet footsteps could be heard pounding towards her in a charge. Surprised by the sudden unseen attack being launched upon her, Osono stood there gaping with her fists half-raised before the imprint of a fist smashed into her face and knocked her off her feet. Landing with a grunt onto her side in the puddle that was forming on the floor tiles, she shook her head and grimaced before moving her legs in a swift sweep along the ground where the attack had originated. She wasn't quick enough to catch whoever it was and they'd moved before she had. What was worse, she was barely rising from the ground when a second hit took her in the gut, stunning her with the force of it.
What was this? Invisible Agents? Even with the movements of the "ghost" being half-discerned by the droplets they stopped from falling, she couldn't fixate on their body mass enough to land a blow and they moved too quickly for her to focus on them. On hands and knees and sensing that another blow was coming soon, she murmured, "Sorry, Alex," before she lit the match in her mind's eye and lashed out towards the moving target.
Flames burst instantly to life on the fabric of her foe's leg, despite the liquid covering everything in heavy layers, her will pushing the fire to consume more of him, letting it spread on his knee and calf, even as keeping it lit against the sprinklers ate away at her energy. Even so, the new fire filled her with strength and disoriented him enough to stay any other attacks, leaving an opening - and also identifying his location - for her to move forward and cram her fist into his stomach. One thing she became immediately aware of after that brief contact with the front of his body and the two mounds on his chest, was that her adversary was not a man but actually a woman and she was wearing some kind of slick, thin outfit.
The fire on the Agent's leg only gave her a brief advantage and the other woman didn't seem to care about it even when the smell of burning flesh filled the air, continuing to launch an invisible assault to subdue Ozzie. Luckily for her, the new fire eating away at her "friend" filled her limbs and muscles with a surge of power that ignored her fastly depleting energy stores, and the blows that were landed by the other hit their mark as if Osono were wearing armor herself. She'd definitely feel the blows later, though; this bitch could throw a punch!
***
So. He knew. It was the first thing that occurred to her as soon as Master began to speak again, the implication heavy even in those first words and then implied even more later on. Well, it was no great loss. If he'd known all this time and had failed to say anything until she'd brought it up, then it must not have been as important to him as she'd originally worried about. It was a bit of a relief, even as she was mortified with the realization of how she'd touched Jason while in the Master's presence. How foolish she'd been to think that his back being turned had meant anything!When Master got down to the deal he wanted to make with her, Stephanie's heart flew for a few seconds before crashing back down to earth. Of course. Why would she even think that she'd get to have her cake and eat it too? Especially after basically revealing to her boss, the intricacies of her one weakness on this case. And the choice he presented was not one she wanted to make - she'd be losing something both ways. Then she chided herself for even thinking that. This was for Jason's benefit, to help him. It was why she'd even gotten enough courage to ask Master about it in the first place. And she even reasoned, that the warning he gave was a lot less serious than it felt. Mostly, she was interested in what her partner would get out of this rather than what she could possibly lose by keeping him around.
What would Jason want her to do? He'd wanted to leave before, to the point where he risked bodily harm to get it from her. But in the car, he'd said... But with the chance to get everything he'd lost - minus the suit - back, it changed things drastically. And everything Master said, made sense and hit home as things she'd considered and discarded because of her selfish desire to keep her plaything turned companion by her side. It made her realize that if she really did feel anything for him other than pleasure at his torment, she needed to stop putting him through this. Maybe Master was right. Everything was basically a done deal, and she'd be far enough away from Alexander to make the transfer go through without a hitch. She could do it on her own...
And then her body stiffened at the sound of Jason's voice suddenly filling the air and she blinked in surprise at the door as he stepped forward into the room. How...how long had he been there? Had Master known? Oh, God! How much had he heard? Everything? Even what she'd said? In place of worrying about that, however, she was suddenly more interested in what Jason was saying now about his goggles. A possible answer to the problem he'd faced in Elmira! She had to admit, she was very interested as well, hoping to find some sort of explanation for what had occurred with Nathan.
Watching the feed - well, more listening to it; so, Jason hadn't jumped to repair his equipment when he'd gotten them back - she tried to focus on what the "boy" had said before it suddenly went blank. It was like watching a suspenseful television show and having it cut out in the middle of the climax, and she felt the urge to shake the "T.V.". Then it was back a moment later, as if nothing had happened and she heard the sounds of the Elmira elevator platform coming to a stop. As Jason lamented to Eric about the loss of the important part of the recording, Stephanie found her attention still fixed on what was happening in the recording.
She'd arrived and had demanded in her dead, monotone voice that he give her a detailed report on what had occurred in her absence. She remembered that and how she'd felt back then. There had been a burst of excitement inside her at the sight of Jason and the urge to physically hurt him had come over her. As they were left alone, she could hear it more clearly, the sound of her close to him, half-seen by the dangling goggles as he was grabbed by the hair and pulled violently towards her. She remembered the way that his hair had felt, the delight coursing through her fingers to feel the skin of his scalp shiver in a held-in, silent agony that she'd created.
When Jason turned it off, she blinked rapidly and took in a deep breath, blushing when she realized that had been a bit like watching porn for her. Looking at him, she wanted to hurt him like that again, her fingers itching with the desire to tug and pull at his hair--and it wasn't more than a second when she had that thought that she found her fingers smoothing through his curly locks, cradling the back of his neck gently as she latched onto his lips. Master and the whole discussion that'd been had, left her completely as her mouth melded with his, her senses suddenly overwhelmed by him.
For several moments, the room was filled with nothing but the small wet clicks and smacks of her lips moving passionately over his, before finally they stopped. She did not draw back right away however, keeping close enough to run her tongue along his upper lip, tracing it lightly, her fingers curling and recurling over his strands of hair. Finally, she seemed to remember personal space and moved back enough to talk to him.
"In that case, maybe it'd be better for you if I took his offer, then?" she asked in a slight whisper, responding to what he'd said in regards to something not wanting him to stay. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she nuzzled into his neck as if she could hide herself from the world just by being closer to him. "I don't know what I want anymore... There's Gwen... There's you... I...just want to stop hurting you so much. And it sounds crazy, I know, but I cannot help it and I cannot find the will to care what they'd think.
"I couldn't get him to give you your suit back... I don't know why I thought I could. Even now, Master's offer feels like he's playing games with me...testing me, trying to make me stronger... I don't want to give into it, but there's too much for you to gain - you could start over, wipe the slate clean. You could erase me and what I and this case have done to you. You could be perfect again..." She trembled slightly against him and took a deep breath through her nose, smelling him, calming herself.
"I know what you must think of me... that I'm some type of monster out to get you, and in the beginning, I did play that way. I just wanted you to look at me. I wanted to be your terror and your horror, to consume you like I do everything else and toss away your empty shell when I was done. But things are different...and I realize..I love you too much to destroy you completely..." She hugged him tighter then, her body molding with his for a few moments. Love? Did she mean that? It wasn't something she was aware she even knew how to say anymore. But it felt good to say it to him...
"I know the important thing is the transfer and the case. It always has been. But I just...couldn't help but feel like I wanted you there...by my side...to watch me become better than I am... I suppose it's silly to think it's a moment worth sharing..."
Letting him go, she stood back from him and ran a hand through her hair that had grown a bit stringy these past few days and she looked everywhere but at him. "I'll get the necessary paperwork and I'll fill them out - you won't need to worry about it. I haven't really given much thought about post-transfer, except to hope that I might become an A-2 and look after a base of my own or something. Maybe Master is right... Maybe after the transfer, it'd be better...for us."
There she went assuming things again. Formal. He liked things formal and here she was getting weepy over losing him and saying things that didn't matter in regards to her case. It couldn't be helped. Sure, she might not care what the higher-ups thought of her - so long as they got results, they didn't care as much about her sex life as she'd been led to believe. But it would not be good for him to continue to be dragged around on her leash just because she was lonely. Not when he could have everything back with the snap of an A-1's fingers. She had to make sacrifices somewhere and as long as it let her keep Gwen, she would do anything for him. Why did everything have to be so complicated?
Trying not to look into his face, she held out her hand stiffly as if she wanted him to shake it. This was a proper goodbye. Distanced. Generic. He would appreciate that, as opposed to the kisses she'd given him that he hadn't asked for and probably didn't want. Kisses she'd stolen from him. As she waited for his hand to join hers, she felt the sickness that had assaulted her on the plane start to rise up in her stomach. The weight that she'd originally associated with the Atropytamine withdrawal came as well, bearing down heavily on her shoulders as if gravity was intent on crushing her. A headache lanced through her skull as she internally chanted to herself that she could do this on her own, and she wondered if goodbye was supposed to always feel like dying...
***
Walking along the street, back the way he'd driven, Rudy whistled lightly to himself and glanced around warily while at the same time trying to appear as if he belonged here. A jacket covered up the wound in his shoulder but his right arm still hung limply by his side, swaying painfully as he walked back to the church. It wasn't too far and he'd hidden the car enough to escape a cursory notice, so he was more just worried about setting off anybody's red flags.The pain in his nose had dulled to a dim ache that made the whole center of his face feel like a numb hole, so he'd forgotten about the broken nose. And he'd run out of things on which to wipe his blood to clean himself off, so he was pretty much stuck looking like this until he got to Charlton. Walking through the parking lot, he made his way through the aisles of cars, looking for one to use as his getaway. He didn't have his lock picking set with him, so he was really just praying someone would be stupid enough to leave the door open and even more, that they'd have left their keys behind.
Eventually, he neared the front of the church and noticed two guys standing around an idling car, almost as if they were waiting for someone. Rudy's eyes swept over the vehicle, not noticing the white drawings of smiley faces and hearts with signs like "Love" and "Forever" on the windows. He especially didn't notice the "Just Married" sign on the back window either. All he saw was an operational car and a quick and easy escape. As he approached, he glanced around to make sure there were no other witnesses at the moment and pleased with the empty street, he put on a smile and walked up to the two men in suits.
"Hey there," Rudy said pleasantly. "Special day, huh?"
The guy's stopped talking as soon as he came within ear shot and both stopped lounging on the car to look warily at him. "Man...are you okay? Do you need to be taken to a hospital or something?"
"Probably, heh," he said, nodding his head in an amused fashion before pulling his gun from his pocket. Both men fell in two flashes of light.
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Tue Nov 16, 2010 9:27 am
The recording from his goggles cut out at the critical moment. Eric left the room without saying a word about returning his suit. Jason’s lead attacked him with her face again and then spent the next few minutes pouring out her heart. There were a lot of ways he could’ve responded to this. In fact, there were a few set choices he should have used, especially when his mind handily flipped through his Agency training and his rapidly evolving ‘list of things to say when you’re finished scraping your tonsils against your boss’, but despite that, all of that, there really were only two things he manage.
First, Jason politely declared, “Fuck it.”
Second, he started to laugh.
Shock, probably. That’s what it was. And stress – holy shit, the stress... It’d been bound to get to him sooner or later, but losing the suit must’ve officially been his over-the-edge. If he’d been able to choose, he would’ve picked a time to snap when he wasn’t in the middle of another too-serious, too-personal, too-close conversation with the woman supposed to be in charge of his career – now more than ever with the chance to fix half this mess by signing onto what Eric had offered, which was generous in the kind of way the rest of the Agency had expressly been warned not to trust – but given everything that was crumbling at his feet, what the hell else could he tell her?
So. Fuck it. And then everything else fell out.
“I have never been so thoroughly screwed in my life,” he muttered. “I don’t know what’s going on anymore. And I used to know – I used to be the guy everyone ran to when no one else could guess what was happening. Now – just...” It wasn’t actually a laugh. It was more a light huff that died in a crackling choke when he let it out, and the hectic sense of disbelief – that this had never been anything more than an incredibly complicated hoax – got his voice to rise. “You don’t make any sense to me, Stephanie. I’ve been killing myself trying to understand the warped rules you run on, but either they’re unreadable because you’re at some unfathomable level of genius, or you don’t have any because you’re ape-shit insane. What am I supposed to think when I’ve got two theories – two completely opposite extremes – and I can’t decide which one’s right because both of them fit you so damn well?”
He couldn’t feel his suit. It was back to being detached, but his mind wasn’t ready to register the loss again. For now, until maybe days, he didn’t care.
“I don’t care.” She wouldn’t know what that meant because he’d been thinking it, but – fuck it! Why not? He’d spell it out for her. “I don’t care. I’m losing my suit for the second time – unchangeably, ‘cause if Eric Whatshisface, the only A-1 I’ve ever seen in person during the first case I’ve ever destroyed, says something as black and white as ‘no, he’s not getting his suit back, I can’t believe you bothered asking’, I might as well get naked and run around like a psychopath – and I cannot bring myself to give more than two shits about it. Two shits! This is the one thing in my life that I’ve depended on physically, mentally and emotionally, but for some reason – some magical, made up, fairy tale whatever – my mind’s on you. And I don’t think you understand – or ever will hear it with anything less than sick pride – how bad that is for me, because I had a set order of priorities and you’ve been fucking it up since I met you. I don’t know what the hell you want. And – ‘love’? Is that actually – tell me that didn’t actually come out of your mouth. Be honest. Because I’ve seen people in love before and – you know, the damndest thing about it, I don’t recall it ever involving picking someone up and slamming them on the bathroom wall of an airplane after they were trying to help you stay away from something that’d take this already tanking assignment from ‘barely salvageable’ to ‘oh God, oh God, Gwendolyn Stewart is killing me with her brain’.”
This was likely a panic attack. Those were brought on by losing something important. His suit counted. That, and she was practically firing him. Still, it was nice that he could think in calm sentences inside his head even if he was half-shouting at speeds the sharpest recording in the world couldn’t play back properly. If he didn’t have that solace, that one comfort of knowing at least part of himself was in control, he’d –
Oh – he was grabbing her. Because that, clearly, was the next logical step.
Jason’s hands nailed her arms behind her back, and in one swift stroke of fury, his mouth crushed against hers, burning in a violence that set his teeth on fire as he pulled her into him waist-first. The thud of her body on his nearly knocked the sense into him again, but flush of heat that followed tore his will to its darkest strips. As if it wasn’t enough, the taste of her lips as his tongue ran through them broke down what should have been his mind telling him to very clearly step the fuck away before he made this any worse. No. Too late. If he hadn’t been able to stop himself from starting this, trying to reason with his fingers now, trying to be heard through their frenzy as they dug into her back, desperately reaching through both his gloves and her clothes to find the skin she was hiding from his touch, was... fuck – he couldn’t even focus properly to finish that thought. Every trace of her had taken his attention, and he could barely see past the raw strength in her form long enough to think of why his arms, which left hers to wrap her up completely, should have stopped grabbing lower and dragging her deeper into his grip. Whether she’d done it or he’d absently managed, her head had raised and her neck was suddenly his – “Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Jason! Dude!”
Was he fucking serious?! Could somebody please buy this company one fucking door that didn’t let everyone in? Or – better yet – find one room Gary couldn’t use to ruin every possible moment he thought of.
Jason put six feet of distance between him and his lead before he even realized he’d ripped himself away. His hand went over his mouth like he was trying to cover it, and for an unfairly long silence, everyone stood as if what’d just happened had been... not that. It didn’t work. Eventually, he had to say something.
“I was...”
Maybe he should’ve thought of something to say.
“Hi!” Gary was waving at them. “Uh... Sorry for... uh... getting in the way...” That man was going to die with every tooth torn out of his mouth and his face distinctly set on fire. “You two want more time –”
“Spit it out before I stab it out of you,” he snapped.
“Okay! Relax! I just got sent up here to find you,” Gary said. “There’s a truck with some box they’re not telling me about? Someone – uh... wanna sign for it or something?”
It’d been an hour already?
“That’s...” He couldn’t get his mouth to work. His muscles were frozen. The hand on his face awkwardly rubbed his cheek, working to loosen it enough to move his jaw. “You should talk to Benoit. He’s here. He’s somewhere. Look around.”
The smile Gary gave made Jason want to punch him. He’d earned a lot of free shots on the man during the past few days, but his dirty fucking grin seemed to beg for an extra-special backhand.
“Yeeeeeah... I think I can narrow down why you want me to go.” Two backhands, and maybe a solid kick to the face. “I’ll –”
“You know what? I’ll find him,” Jason said. “I need to find Eric, too. I need to... ask him... about my suit...”
It was a pathetic excuse and everyone knew it, but he wasn’t taking it back. It’d buy him more time if he still needed to think, and if he chose to run off and kill himself, he’d have a well-versed idea of what room wouldn’t end in someone bursting in on that, too. Decided, without the mildest insight on what else he should say, Jason walked out of the room and into the hall, but he didn’t get farther than that. His legs started to buckle and he uselessly leaned against the nearest wall, happy for the short breath of silence he’d caught on to before he had to move again.
Breathe. Keep breathing. He had to at least keep that on his résumé. He didn’t like being so close to the door right now, not while he knew she was still in there – and with Gary, who’d been eyeing her like his head was about to explode in fanboy glee – but he needed to breathe and sort this out. Analyze. That was his answer, like it always was. He needed to take the facts in front of him and sort them out so they’d make sense – on paper, he added, because this was not something he could answer if she asked. ... She couldn’t ask. She wouldn’t. She’d probably been expecting this so she’d have her own take on it. As for him...
Well...
He’d gone in, eavesdropped, taken out his goggles, had that all-too-perfect mishap with the video, and then... something, something, his tongue in her throat, something, something, Gary showed up. Right – well – considering the ‘something, something’ bits were the key parts of the story... And technically, she was the who started this crap, so if anyone was going to get blamed for what’d happened, it wasn’t going to be him. And if she did ask why – “Dude!” Seriously, again? This was not the time – “That was Stephanie fucking March, bro! You’n’her were...”
Gary didn’t end his sentence because he was too blown away to put it in words. His eyes were wide and his hands were spread out like he was waiting to catch some grand confession, explanation or just something he could take to headquarters and toss around at the water cooler. Ah, ha, no. Not in a million years. Jason went back to breathing and closed his eyes, abnormally on guard for any sign of his lead coming into the hall, too.
“I don’t know how that happened.”
“I could lob a few theories at ya,” Gary cried. He was enjoying this way too much. “So – what – you guys have a thing on the side?”
“No!”
“You sure? Is it one of those ‘don’t talk about it ‘cause she’s an A-3 and you’re an A-5 – ex-A-5 –’”
“It’s a ‘shut your fat mouth, Gary, before I stick a bomb in it’,” Jason spat. His head throbbed. He needed to not think about anything for a while. “Sorry. I meant ‘big boned’.”
“Yeah. Geez. Talk about touchy, but don’t bring it down on me,” Gary told him. “You should be ridin’ this high, guy. She’s hot. More worse-for-wear than I thought she’d be, but you guys’ve been runnin’ around all over the place, huh? Plus – uh... that.” Jason stepped away from the wall and started walking. “Wait – where are you going now?”
“Whatever conversation you think we’re having, we’re not having there.”
The man looked over his shoulder and finally clued in. Unfortunately, it meant he was tagging along while Jason went down the hall, almost biting at him to get some trickle of gossip running. Jason... Jason was trying to walk in a straight line.
“... So... This’s been... how long?”
“I don’t want to go over it.”
Benoit had to be around here. Eric, too. They would’ve known about the truck showing up if Gary had. If that was the case, hunting them down would be the easiest if he went to the front of the building.
“What happened to you being all ‘work comes first, work is important, gotta stick to my work ethics ‘cause I’ve got a reputation to protect’? I mean – congrats on bagging someone like her – okay, wrong word, sorry.” Jason hadn’t even needed to turn his head to glare at Gary. Truly, their friendship was the stuff of legends. “But I’ve heard you go on for hours about how damaging it was for someone to hint you had a ‘more than professional relationship’ with some A-7, and here you are –”
“Gary. Stop.” He stopped. They both stopped. “This has to stay between me and her.”
“Wha...?”
“Until I can explain it, if I ever can, you have to pretend you didn’t see anything. Okay?”
Gary was very distraught by the loss of this story. His mouth flapped for a minute before he got around to squeaking, “But... it’s Stephanie March. Have you even read about the shit she can do? And you’re still alive after that! You’re like a little brother to me, Jason, but I started thinking up obituaries the minute I heard you’d been assigned to her.”
“That’s remarkably sweet,” Jason said, “and exceptionally disturbing, but I need you to do this for me. As a favour. And to pay me back for the last four years I’ve been picking out Diana’s anniversary presents for you. And her birthday presents. Plus Christmas. And then Valentine’s Day...”
“Alright, alright.” Gary looked determined to preserve this great secret. “Because you helped me out, it’s only fair.”
“Thanks.”
“But I still get to ask you questions.”
“Huh?”
“Third base? Did it happen yet?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” From the darkness of the hall looming over their backs, Eric’s sunny voice shone through and filled the too tight walls. The grin he gave to both of them sang of light and warmth, and with a cheeky twist at the corner of his mouth, he added pleasantly, “Not that I’m encouraging anything. Keep your pants on, kids! We have to master our emotions!”
“They’re mastered. You don’t have to worry.” Anymore, but Jason kept that note to himself. Straightening, he gestured to Gary. “I’ve heard from him that a truck arrived.”
“Xander’s here! Hooraaaaaay! I’d grab Benny, but I’d rather let him kick off some steam. Then again, I slipped by that dank corner she’s got ‘im in. Pants were on – which was not what I asked for – but it’s fine, ‘cause it sounded like something horrible. I think she’s killing him! I’m gonna need someone new to pick on.” He shrugged. Then he laughed and threw in, “Grab Steph for me, will you? If he’s busy, she’s gotta sign for Xandy since I’m not ‘technically’ a part of this. Chop, chop!”
Jason steadied himself with a breath. Before the air did the opposite of what he wanted and pushed him to pass out, Gary, his new left hand, jumped up to say, “He’s not actually in the best condition to be running around. I’ll do it.”
He was helping out of loyalty almost as much as he was trying to sneak another look at Jason’s lead. Diana who?
Eric looked at Gary with a delightedly curious smile.
“Who’re you?”
“Gary. Who’re you?”
“Eric. Want a cookie?”
“... Hell yeah, I want a cookie!” So Eric took a cookie out of his pocket. He gave one to Jason, too. “Thanks, bro!”
“No problem! See ya in a bit, gentlemen,” Eric chirped, heading off again and disappearing around a corner on the way to the front of the building. If Jason was truly planning to talk to the man, he’d have to catch up right now.
He took another breath. Gary’d bought him a few more minutes away from her, and if he was smart and stayed close to Eric’s side, there weren’t a lot of opportunities for her to bring it up. And even if she wanted to or knew a way, the A-1 would probably keep her busy enough to get her to drop it.
“Take this.” The cookie. “I’m going after him.”
“Uh-huh – you have fun.” Gary had half his cookie eaten already, and only half because he’d shoved the whole of Jason’s in his mouth when it’d been offered. “These’re delicious. I could eat a million of them.”
Considering everything else he had in that jacket, a million cookies wasn’t so far out of the question.
“I’m surprised you’re not framing those,” Jason said. “They came from an A-1.” Only Gary could turn so red, so fast and so furiously. “He said his name was ‘Eric’.”
“DudeEricisapopularnameanyonecanbenamedEricwhydidn’tyoutellmewhohewasIjustatethecookieanditwasagifthehatesmenow!”
“... I think you’re exaggerating. I’ve got to go.”
“I ate his gift! I ate it,” Gary wailed. He was probably crying too, but Jason didn’t have time to baby-sit. “His pocket cookie – he gave it to me and I ate the pocket cookie!” And although the man knew there was even less time to humour him with an impatient – because there was no other way to respond to the crap that rolled out of Gary’s mouth – reply of, ‘You’ve still got half’, he went along and whined back, “It’s not the same...!”
Jason wished his problems were as simple as ‘I ate a cookie’. Instead, he had all the troubles of a pre-A-4 and all the rank of a minion. His vision was blurring again. He’d have to rest soon, but for now, he was trailing after Eric.
Three different things happened at once and Alex missed his chanced to comment on any of them. Osono wasn’t thrilled to see him in here – no surprise – but her explosion over it was more than he expected. His shock spiked again when it set the damn sprinklers off, and the water suddenly on his face was cold enough to get a yelp out of him. That said absolutely nothing about the stab of terror in his chest when she started pointing at a patch of ground that wasn’t wet. It didn’t clue in right away and the only sense he got that it was important was the sudden bracing Xander pushed him into, but the instant those footsteps rushed towards her, he lurched away and got his back to the wall.
I’ve got a weird craving for tacos. I don’t even like tacos.
“Xander, don’t go stupid on me now,” Alex said. “We saw two of them come in here. Where’s the second?”
Behind her, actually.
Alex’s head whipped over to Osono. Through the fire and the sprinklers and the awkward half-fight, he couldn’t see much of anything. He looked at the ground, trying to find more dry patches, but their stomping had kicked water everywhere. He couldn’t narrow down which splash was out of place.
“I can’t see him.”
It’s not like he’s doing a lot. Walking around, keepin’ his distance, trying to look chill... not that that’s hard, considering he’s the guy who’s not on fire.
The smell... It wasn’t going to leave him for ages. From now until maybe the day he died, he’d know the stench of a burning leg. He guessed it was a sacrifice he’d have to make if it kept Osono from getting killed.
“I have to get the back one,” Alex said. “I have to get who she’s not fighting.”
And he had to do it without setting her off. She was already wired to attack him on sight, and if he got too close to her, especially with her concentration split on trying to keep her fire up under the indoor rain, that’d be the end of everything he’d come here for. Whatever he did to help had to happen fast – and from as far away as he could manage. Having his powers would’ve been handy right about now, but if he couldn’t see their eyes because they were hiding in their ghost suits, that wasn’t going to be an option.
You’ve got a clear shot.
Really? So Osono wasn’t the only one who thought he couldn’t fight. Well – usefully.
“Do you think I can make it to that plant?”
The few trees and shrubs someone had brought in had been flooded only minutes after they’d been burnt to a crisp. They weren’t what he was interested in; the clay pot – it looked like clay – that was holding each of them was his ticket out of this mess. If he didn’t mess it up, he meant, and if he could get to it without looking suspicious.
Considering it’s three feet away, I’d say it’s a fair grab. Considering it’s you, let’s call it fifty-fifty.
Alex was more worried about what it’d look like to her. As he inched away from the invisible war, trying to make out more than an outline of the Agents by squinting, the sick thought that she’d turn around right when he had the pot in his hand popped up and strapped in for a long ride. It wouldn’t happen if he moved fast. Kicking a small river through the flooded floors, he turned and ran to the pot, knocked the thing over, brewed an ocean of ash and dirt, then hoisted the heavy thing onto his shoulder – it nearly slipped from being soaking wet – and asked, “Is he still behind her?”
Yeah.
“Am I still clear?”
Eh.
Good enough. Alex charged ahead, swung the clay pot down and braced himself for the startling crack as it broke against a solid skull.
First, Jason politely declared, “Fuck it.”
Second, he started to laugh.
Shock, probably. That’s what it was. And stress – holy shit, the stress... It’d been bound to get to him sooner or later, but losing the suit must’ve officially been his over-the-edge. If he’d been able to choose, he would’ve picked a time to snap when he wasn’t in the middle of another too-serious, too-personal, too-close conversation with the woman supposed to be in charge of his career – now more than ever with the chance to fix half this mess by signing onto what Eric had offered, which was generous in the kind of way the rest of the Agency had expressly been warned not to trust – but given everything that was crumbling at his feet, what the hell else could he tell her?
So. Fuck it. And then everything else fell out.
“I have never been so thoroughly screwed in my life,” he muttered. “I don’t know what’s going on anymore. And I used to know – I used to be the guy everyone ran to when no one else could guess what was happening. Now – just...” It wasn’t actually a laugh. It was more a light huff that died in a crackling choke when he let it out, and the hectic sense of disbelief – that this had never been anything more than an incredibly complicated hoax – got his voice to rise. “You don’t make any sense to me, Stephanie. I’ve been killing myself trying to understand the warped rules you run on, but either they’re unreadable because you’re at some unfathomable level of genius, or you don’t have any because you’re ape-shit insane. What am I supposed to think when I’ve got two theories – two completely opposite extremes – and I can’t decide which one’s right because both of them fit you so damn well?”
He couldn’t feel his suit. It was back to being detached, but his mind wasn’t ready to register the loss again. For now, until maybe days, he didn’t care.
“I don’t care.” She wouldn’t know what that meant because he’d been thinking it, but – fuck it! Why not? He’d spell it out for her. “I don’t care. I’m losing my suit for the second time – unchangeably, ‘cause if Eric Whatshisface, the only A-1 I’ve ever seen in person during the first case I’ve ever destroyed, says something as black and white as ‘no, he’s not getting his suit back, I can’t believe you bothered asking’, I might as well get naked and run around like a psychopath – and I cannot bring myself to give more than two shits about it. Two shits! This is the one thing in my life that I’ve depended on physically, mentally and emotionally, but for some reason – some magical, made up, fairy tale whatever – my mind’s on you. And I don’t think you understand – or ever will hear it with anything less than sick pride – how bad that is for me, because I had a set order of priorities and you’ve been fucking it up since I met you. I don’t know what the hell you want. And – ‘love’? Is that actually – tell me that didn’t actually come out of your mouth. Be honest. Because I’ve seen people in love before and – you know, the damndest thing about it, I don’t recall it ever involving picking someone up and slamming them on the bathroom wall of an airplane after they were trying to help you stay away from something that’d take this already tanking assignment from ‘barely salvageable’ to ‘oh God, oh God, Gwendolyn Stewart is killing me with her brain’.”
This was likely a panic attack. Those were brought on by losing something important. His suit counted. That, and she was practically firing him. Still, it was nice that he could think in calm sentences inside his head even if he was half-shouting at speeds the sharpest recording in the world couldn’t play back properly. If he didn’t have that solace, that one comfort of knowing at least part of himself was in control, he’d –
Oh – he was grabbing her. Because that, clearly, was the next logical step.
Jason’s hands nailed her arms behind her back, and in one swift stroke of fury, his mouth crushed against hers, burning in a violence that set his teeth on fire as he pulled her into him waist-first. The thud of her body on his nearly knocked the sense into him again, but flush of heat that followed tore his will to its darkest strips. As if it wasn’t enough, the taste of her lips as his tongue ran through them broke down what should have been his mind telling him to very clearly step the fuck away before he made this any worse. No. Too late. If he hadn’t been able to stop himself from starting this, trying to reason with his fingers now, trying to be heard through their frenzy as they dug into her back, desperately reaching through both his gloves and her clothes to find the skin she was hiding from his touch, was... fuck – he couldn’t even focus properly to finish that thought. Every trace of her had taken his attention, and he could barely see past the raw strength in her form long enough to think of why his arms, which left hers to wrap her up completely, should have stopped grabbing lower and dragging her deeper into his grip. Whether she’d done it or he’d absently managed, her head had raised and her neck was suddenly his – “Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Jason! Dude!”
Was he fucking serious?! Could somebody please buy this company one fucking door that didn’t let everyone in? Or – better yet – find one room Gary couldn’t use to ruin every possible moment he thought of.
Jason put six feet of distance between him and his lead before he even realized he’d ripped himself away. His hand went over his mouth like he was trying to cover it, and for an unfairly long silence, everyone stood as if what’d just happened had been... not that. It didn’t work. Eventually, he had to say something.
“I was...”
Maybe he should’ve thought of something to say.
“Hi!” Gary was waving at them. “Uh... Sorry for... uh... getting in the way...” That man was going to die with every tooth torn out of his mouth and his face distinctly set on fire. “You two want more time –”
“Spit it out before I stab it out of you,” he snapped.
“Okay! Relax! I just got sent up here to find you,” Gary said. “There’s a truck with some box they’re not telling me about? Someone – uh... wanna sign for it or something?”
It’d been an hour already?
“That’s...” He couldn’t get his mouth to work. His muscles were frozen. The hand on his face awkwardly rubbed his cheek, working to loosen it enough to move his jaw. “You should talk to Benoit. He’s here. He’s somewhere. Look around.”
The smile Gary gave made Jason want to punch him. He’d earned a lot of free shots on the man during the past few days, but his dirty fucking grin seemed to beg for an extra-special backhand.
“Yeeeeeah... I think I can narrow down why you want me to go.” Two backhands, and maybe a solid kick to the face. “I’ll –”
“You know what? I’ll find him,” Jason said. “I need to find Eric, too. I need to... ask him... about my suit...”
It was a pathetic excuse and everyone knew it, but he wasn’t taking it back. It’d buy him more time if he still needed to think, and if he chose to run off and kill himself, he’d have a well-versed idea of what room wouldn’t end in someone bursting in on that, too. Decided, without the mildest insight on what else he should say, Jason walked out of the room and into the hall, but he didn’t get farther than that. His legs started to buckle and he uselessly leaned against the nearest wall, happy for the short breath of silence he’d caught on to before he had to move again.
Breathe. Keep breathing. He had to at least keep that on his résumé. He didn’t like being so close to the door right now, not while he knew she was still in there – and with Gary, who’d been eyeing her like his head was about to explode in fanboy glee – but he needed to breathe and sort this out. Analyze. That was his answer, like it always was. He needed to take the facts in front of him and sort them out so they’d make sense – on paper, he added, because this was not something he could answer if she asked. ... She couldn’t ask. She wouldn’t. She’d probably been expecting this so she’d have her own take on it. As for him...
Well...
He’d gone in, eavesdropped, taken out his goggles, had that all-too-perfect mishap with the video, and then... something, something, his tongue in her throat, something, something, Gary showed up. Right – well – considering the ‘something, something’ bits were the key parts of the story... And technically, she was the who started this crap, so if anyone was going to get blamed for what’d happened, it wasn’t going to be him. And if she did ask why – “Dude!” Seriously, again? This was not the time – “That was Stephanie fucking March, bro! You’n’her were...”
Gary didn’t end his sentence because he was too blown away to put it in words. His eyes were wide and his hands were spread out like he was waiting to catch some grand confession, explanation or just something he could take to headquarters and toss around at the water cooler. Ah, ha, no. Not in a million years. Jason went back to breathing and closed his eyes, abnormally on guard for any sign of his lead coming into the hall, too.
“I don’t know how that happened.”
“I could lob a few theories at ya,” Gary cried. He was enjoying this way too much. “So – what – you guys have a thing on the side?”
“No!”
“You sure? Is it one of those ‘don’t talk about it ‘cause she’s an A-3 and you’re an A-5 – ex-A-5 –’”
“It’s a ‘shut your fat mouth, Gary, before I stick a bomb in it’,” Jason spat. His head throbbed. He needed to not think about anything for a while. “Sorry. I meant ‘big boned’.”
“Yeah. Geez. Talk about touchy, but don’t bring it down on me,” Gary told him. “You should be ridin’ this high, guy. She’s hot. More worse-for-wear than I thought she’d be, but you guys’ve been runnin’ around all over the place, huh? Plus – uh... that.” Jason stepped away from the wall and started walking. “Wait – where are you going now?”
“Whatever conversation you think we’re having, we’re not having there.”
The man looked over his shoulder and finally clued in. Unfortunately, it meant he was tagging along while Jason went down the hall, almost biting at him to get some trickle of gossip running. Jason... Jason was trying to walk in a straight line.
“... So... This’s been... how long?”
“I don’t want to go over it.”
Benoit had to be around here. Eric, too. They would’ve known about the truck showing up if Gary had. If that was the case, hunting them down would be the easiest if he went to the front of the building.
“What happened to you being all ‘work comes first, work is important, gotta stick to my work ethics ‘cause I’ve got a reputation to protect’? I mean – congrats on bagging someone like her – okay, wrong word, sorry.” Jason hadn’t even needed to turn his head to glare at Gary. Truly, their friendship was the stuff of legends. “But I’ve heard you go on for hours about how damaging it was for someone to hint you had a ‘more than professional relationship’ with some A-7, and here you are –”
“Gary. Stop.” He stopped. They both stopped. “This has to stay between me and her.”
“Wha...?”
“Until I can explain it, if I ever can, you have to pretend you didn’t see anything. Okay?”
Gary was very distraught by the loss of this story. His mouth flapped for a minute before he got around to squeaking, “But... it’s Stephanie March. Have you even read about the shit she can do? And you’re still alive after that! You’re like a little brother to me, Jason, but I started thinking up obituaries the minute I heard you’d been assigned to her.”
“That’s remarkably sweet,” Jason said, “and exceptionally disturbing, but I need you to do this for me. As a favour. And to pay me back for the last four years I’ve been picking out Diana’s anniversary presents for you. And her birthday presents. Plus Christmas. And then Valentine’s Day...”
“Alright, alright.” Gary looked determined to preserve this great secret. “Because you helped me out, it’s only fair.”
“Thanks.”
“But I still get to ask you questions.”
“Huh?”
“Third base? Did it happen yet?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” From the darkness of the hall looming over their backs, Eric’s sunny voice shone through and filled the too tight walls. The grin he gave to both of them sang of light and warmth, and with a cheeky twist at the corner of his mouth, he added pleasantly, “Not that I’m encouraging anything. Keep your pants on, kids! We have to master our emotions!”
“They’re mastered. You don’t have to worry.” Anymore, but Jason kept that note to himself. Straightening, he gestured to Gary. “I’ve heard from him that a truck arrived.”
“Xander’s here! Hooraaaaaay! I’d grab Benny, but I’d rather let him kick off some steam. Then again, I slipped by that dank corner she’s got ‘im in. Pants were on – which was not what I asked for – but it’s fine, ‘cause it sounded like something horrible. I think she’s killing him! I’m gonna need someone new to pick on.” He shrugged. Then he laughed and threw in, “Grab Steph for me, will you? If he’s busy, she’s gotta sign for Xandy since I’m not ‘technically’ a part of this. Chop, chop!”
Jason steadied himself with a breath. Before the air did the opposite of what he wanted and pushed him to pass out, Gary, his new left hand, jumped up to say, “He’s not actually in the best condition to be running around. I’ll do it.”
He was helping out of loyalty almost as much as he was trying to sneak another look at Jason’s lead. Diana who?
Eric looked at Gary with a delightedly curious smile.
“Who’re you?”
“Gary. Who’re you?”
“Eric. Want a cookie?”
“... Hell yeah, I want a cookie!” So Eric took a cookie out of his pocket. He gave one to Jason, too. “Thanks, bro!”
“No problem! See ya in a bit, gentlemen,” Eric chirped, heading off again and disappearing around a corner on the way to the front of the building. If Jason was truly planning to talk to the man, he’d have to catch up right now.
He took another breath. Gary’d bought him a few more minutes away from her, and if he was smart and stayed close to Eric’s side, there weren’t a lot of opportunities for her to bring it up. And even if she wanted to or knew a way, the A-1 would probably keep her busy enough to get her to drop it.
“Take this.” The cookie. “I’m going after him.”
“Uh-huh – you have fun.” Gary had half his cookie eaten already, and only half because he’d shoved the whole of Jason’s in his mouth when it’d been offered. “These’re delicious. I could eat a million of them.”
Considering everything else he had in that jacket, a million cookies wasn’t so far out of the question.
“I’m surprised you’re not framing those,” Jason said. “They came from an A-1.” Only Gary could turn so red, so fast and so furiously. “He said his name was ‘Eric’.”
“DudeEricisapopularnameanyonecanbenamedEricwhydidn’tyoutellmewhohewasIjustatethecookieanditwasagifthehatesmenow!”
“... I think you’re exaggerating. I’ve got to go.”
“I ate his gift! I ate it,” Gary wailed. He was probably crying too, but Jason didn’t have time to baby-sit. “His pocket cookie – he gave it to me and I ate the pocket cookie!” And although the man knew there was even less time to humour him with an impatient – because there was no other way to respond to the crap that rolled out of Gary’s mouth – reply of, ‘You’ve still got half’, he went along and whined back, “It’s not the same...!”
Jason wished his problems were as simple as ‘I ate a cookie’. Instead, he had all the troubles of a pre-A-4 and all the rank of a minion. His vision was blurring again. He’d have to rest soon, but for now, he was trailing after Eric.
* * *
Three different things happened at once and Alex missed his chanced to comment on any of them. Osono wasn’t thrilled to see him in here – no surprise – but her explosion over it was more than he expected. His shock spiked again when it set the damn sprinklers off, and the water suddenly on his face was cold enough to get a yelp out of him. That said absolutely nothing about the stab of terror in his chest when she started pointing at a patch of ground that wasn’t wet. It didn’t clue in right away and the only sense he got that it was important was the sudden bracing Xander pushed him into, but the instant those footsteps rushed towards her, he lurched away and got his back to the wall.
I’ve got a weird craving for tacos. I don’t even like tacos.
“Xander, don’t go stupid on me now,” Alex said. “We saw two of them come in here. Where’s the second?”
Behind her, actually.
Alex’s head whipped over to Osono. Through the fire and the sprinklers and the awkward half-fight, he couldn’t see much of anything. He looked at the ground, trying to find more dry patches, but their stomping had kicked water everywhere. He couldn’t narrow down which splash was out of place.
“I can’t see him.”
It’s not like he’s doing a lot. Walking around, keepin’ his distance, trying to look chill... not that that’s hard, considering he’s the guy who’s not on fire.
The smell... It wasn’t going to leave him for ages. From now until maybe the day he died, he’d know the stench of a burning leg. He guessed it was a sacrifice he’d have to make if it kept Osono from getting killed.
“I have to get the back one,” Alex said. “I have to get who she’s not fighting.”
And he had to do it without setting her off. She was already wired to attack him on sight, and if he got too close to her, especially with her concentration split on trying to keep her fire up under the indoor rain, that’d be the end of everything he’d come here for. Whatever he did to help had to happen fast – and from as far away as he could manage. Having his powers would’ve been handy right about now, but if he couldn’t see their eyes because they were hiding in their ghost suits, that wasn’t going to be an option.
You’ve got a clear shot.
Really? So Osono wasn’t the only one who thought he couldn’t fight. Well – usefully.
“Do you think I can make it to that plant?”
The few trees and shrubs someone had brought in had been flooded only minutes after they’d been burnt to a crisp. They weren’t what he was interested in; the clay pot – it looked like clay – that was holding each of them was his ticket out of this mess. If he didn’t mess it up, he meant, and if he could get to it without looking suspicious.
Considering it’s three feet away, I’d say it’s a fair grab. Considering it’s you, let’s call it fifty-fifty.
Alex was more worried about what it’d look like to her. As he inched away from the invisible war, trying to make out more than an outline of the Agents by squinting, the sick thought that she’d turn around right when he had the pot in his hand popped up and strapped in for a long ride. It wouldn’t happen if he moved fast. Kicking a small river through the flooded floors, he turned and ran to the pot, knocked the thing over, brewed an ocean of ash and dirt, then hoisted the heavy thing onto his shoulder – it nearly slipped from being soaking wet – and asked, “Is he still behind her?”
Yeah.
“Am I still clear?”
Eh.
Good enough. Alex charged ahead, swung the clay pot down and braced himself for the startling crack as it broke against a solid skull.
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Tue Nov 16, 2010 10:17 pm
Standing there, barely a foot away from him with her hand held out stupidly between them, Stephanie trembled slightly and a cold sweat had started to collect at her temples and neck. She didn't understand what was wrong with her but there wasn't much room for conscious thought as her breathing became labored and she struggled not to hyperventilate. When Jason spoke and started to laugh, it drew her hazy attention and the feeling of nausea that had been threatening her stomach abated cleanly to hear that melodious sound coming from his lips.
In her semi-confused state, Stephanie almost wanted to laugh with him - what was going on? - but then all hilarity fled as he started speaking again, and she could not tear her gaze away from the tone he took with her. There had been a few things she'd expected from him in regards to what she'd said, and what she was offering, but the most probable in her mind had been that he would have been happy. Happy to get his life back and happy to be rid of her. But of course, he was angry at her after dragging him through the mud and hitting a few hidden rocks to get to this point. And the suit that she could--Oh, my God!!! Did he just say that!??? He DID! Her name! Not 'boss', not 'Miss Agent' - no, wait, that was Benoit - but Stephanie! Her partner had called her by name! Although the way he'd said it was hinting at an almost acerbic barb, it was even more delightful than his genuine, boyish laughter had been. And for several moments she struggled to hang onto the rest of what he was saying, purely and unalterably floating in the clouds that Jason had said her name - and she knew right then and there that she wanted to hear him say it again. Maybe not exactly like that though...
But no...he was angry with her, as he had every right to be with the explanation he gave her. Even as guilt started to eat away at her again, feeling incredibly sorry for confusing him so much and using him the way she had through all of this, at the same time...she felt her heart start to heat up and the feelings of illness and aching pain were subsiding completely. He was...angry with her...and she was growing inexplicably fond of the sensation being the focus of his emotions. Through most of this trip he'd been fairly restrained as far as emotion went. There had been bursts of anger and desperate rage when fighting with Jean and going through his withdrawal early on, but never had he faced her with that heated look in his eyes. And that tone of voice! She was his superior! Was he really speaking to her this way? It was like a dream come true...
Not only that but the things he was now saying... What did he mean he didn't care? Then the flippant disrespect of Master - which barely got a ripple on her emotional radar as she waited for him to make his point - and trying not to think of what a good idea it'd be for him to get naked right now. God, why did he even have to mention that? Now she couldn't stop thinking about it! Although skin tight, there were some things his suit left to the imagination and she cursed the Agency designers for their "clean" taste.
She stopped internally giggling over that and blinked wide-eyed at him as he continued on, stating his reasons that the suit no longer mattered to him. A ruby blush dusted her cheeks in two bright blossoming flowers and her head swam as she struggled with the urge to cry. She really was a monster... But it was true! The way she felt about him... The way he messed with her head constantly too! She'd never cared about anyone in years and now here she was at a point of giving back almost everything she'd taken from him not because it would remove the "weakened limb" as Master had said, but because she wanted to do something for him. And it really wasn't fair bringing up the bathroom incident in that way. She had responsibilities and pressures too and at the time she'd been in a very emotional state!
Stephanie just wanted him to leave now... She didn't care about the obvious implications in his words but rather focused on the fact that he blamed her for everything just like she blamed herself. Wasn't it enough that she was trying now? That she was trying to be helpful? And that pesky feeling of arousal would not leave her even as she choked down a knot of tears. So much force... So much anger... She loved and hated it and it made her feel all sorts of terrible and yet incredibly sexy. Which was why he had to...
And then he was there, grabbing ahold of her, his lips finding hers and taking her breath away even as the new inhalation opening her lungs, was filled with him. For the first few minutes, riding on the shock of it, her body tensed and she flexed her arms defensively in his hold. But when she felt the unyielding strength and power rippling through his limbs and muscles and their bodies met in a just as eager and forceful "kiss", she was melting in his grip and her curves were molding to his muscled form. God, yes! Just like this! Oh--Mmmmm! She wanted him. Just. Like. Thiiiiissss...!
Here was everything about his anger that she loved, the passion and hunger she felt pulsing in her own chest reflected back at her tenfold in his lips and his touch. The power in his breast and body as he seemed to tower over her without even trying, every little frenzied swipe of his tongue forcing her to cling closer to him so she wouldn't fall to the ground in a puddle at his feet. And then his grip left her only for his hands to start wandering... He was hurting her. Not a lot, his hold forceful and pressing, pulling at her and fingernails vaguely digging in through his gloves and she was just about going crazy because of it! OH FREAKING GOD! MORE! She needed more of this--it was definitely time to make good on his promise to get naked earlier!
And amidst all of this, she knew she couldn't let him go - his hands were wandering further!!! - she couldn't let him go anywhere now, no matter what she'd felt or what Master hinted at. There was no way in freaking hell she could stop or give this up! She couldn't remember the last time her heart had beat this fast. Even eagerly awaiting Gwen's arrival or getting ready to engage the target in battle could not compare to the excitement and breaths of life filling her right now. And Jason was in every vein, moving her pounding heart with every stroke of his tongue on her skin--
A very unfamiliar voice broke everything before Jason suddenly vanished to teleport several feet from her. Stephanie wobbled on her feet as she stood on her own once more, her head filled with a dizzy high, not even noticing the intruder before Jason addressed the other man in angered tones. Even then, the intoxicated state he'd left her in kept her from focusing on any details and she couldn't find it in her heart to be mad at the intrusion. Jason had called her by name. Jason had fucking yelled at her. And Jason had just kissed her so hard she was still trying to mentally get to her feet.
As her vision cleared and she took the chubby man in, shaking her head slightly to clear the thick cloud of sex-filled fog Jason had left behind, she realized what he was saying and what was going on. Oh, Alexander's body... How late was it? Briefly she wondered if Rudy was here yet too and got momentarily excited about that, but then Jason was leaving, uttering hurried explanations as he made his way to the door. Her mind still cluttered with him, she merely muttered "Oh...um...hm..." raising her hand just a little as if to ask him to stay before her body refused to obey any more commands. Alright...well...he could go, she supposed. For now, while she was still filled with his scent and his taste, her skin tingling from his rough-handed touch. But later... well, the suit had to come off some time, didn't it? And she would most definitely help then.
A small, breathless, girlish giggle bubbled from between her lips as she licked at her teeth and blushed again in the empty, darkened room. Goodness, she really was bad!
She wasn't even really aware of Alex or where he was, too focused on trying not to just kill the bitch she was fighting and be done with it - Ha! I win, Agent whore! - so when he passed behind her, even as he fled into her sphere of awareness, she ignored him. She'd deal with him later. For now, it was time to end this and get to the part where she wasn't actively fighting the urge to kill someone while she was fighting them and getting the shit beat out of her.
Looking to surprise the woman, Osono sloshed down in the ankle deep puddle at their feet and swept her leg underneath the other woman. As expected, the fire on her leg lifted several inches off the ground as the Agent jumped over Ozzie's legs. Before her feet had landed again, however, Osono was up, half-bent over, her foot whipping out to pound into the woman's gut. Since she still had air, there was no chance for her to catch her balance and she careened back into the opposite wall of the hallway. Ozzie was there, shoving the Agent's face into the wall and holding her still with her body. A fist poked into Ozzie's ribs, causing her to grunt, but she didn't let go, picking the woman's head up and shoving it forcefully back into the wall, before grabbing her by the top of her head and her neck and throwing her to the ground.
Then she was there, straddling the woman on the ground, pulling the gun still nestled in the waistband of her soaking wet pants, before pointing it where the woman's head should be. The invisible lady beneath her bucked and once or twice tried to use her legs to swoop up and wrap around Osono's neck, but Ozzie hit her in the face with the gun and the struggles stopped. Even when the woman regained her sense of balance, Ozzie had the gun cocked and pressing firmly into the woman's forehead and she didn't move.
"Let's...try this...again, yeah?" Ozzie said breathlessly. "If you don't tell me who the fuck you are right now, I'm gonna burn you alive and then shoot your brains out. In that order." Osono paused to move her short, blonde bangs that had fallen into her face and were dripping long streams of water down her brow ridge, out of the way before continuing.
"I'll start," she said, grabbing the top of the woman's head with her other hand and pulling off the mask that was covering her, revealing a harsh looking brunette scowling up at her. "You have something I need, and I'll be generous and ONLY blow your brains out, if you give it to me when I ask you for the first time. Codes. You have them - no, don't fucking argue. You have them. I need them. Give them to me now. Did I mention I'm on a bit of a time crunch? You have 3 seconds before I decide to just say Fuck it."
Turning into the hallway, as she began walking back the way she and Master had come upon arriving at the room, there was a new bounce to her step, a gentle rolling of her hips and lightly she hummed a pretty tune under her breath. Now to figure things out. She'd already decided that she couldn't let Jason go - and with everything he'd said and done, apparently he was in the same boat as she was in just not caring about fighting it anymore. And she had to be prepared for people to ask questions about something that was none of any of their business. Briefly, she thought about coming up with an elaborate lie about loyalty and how she needed to keep him with her because he knew the most about her case than anyone, but everyone would most likely see through that, just as Master had.
Eventually, she found herself struggling to even stay focused on the current problem as a fantasy of Jason tying her down entered her head, filling her body with delightful warmth. Then she started thinking that was a little like what he'd done with her arms in there and how she would have liked if he'd had his hands free to do other things while still restraining her. Maybe next time if there was rope around? Would it seem too obvious or scare him off if she provided him with necessary rope? Maybe she could say it was so he wouldn't slip and fall on the bloody stairs again and hope he'd just use it on her when the time came again. Would he take it as a jab to his masculinity and possibly get angry with her if she implied he had no balance? God she hoped so...
Any further thinking about it was cut short as she saw the man who'd shown up before come walking down the hallway from the opposite direction than the one she was headed towards. That made a new set of fresh memories pop up inside her head. That man! He'd come to the room and interrupted them and he knew Jason by name. The way they had spoken to each other had been very friendly and familiar and she suddenly had the jealous urge to pick the man's brain.
"You! Puppy," she called out to him, turning around to face him. Snapping her fingers severely and then pointing to the ground at her feet, she commanded, "Here. Now." waiting with a rigid grace for him to huff and puff up to the spot she indicated.
"State your name, your rank and current position in the Agency," she said forcefully, her voice only mimicking the cold deadpan she usually possessed, but more just sounding angry than anything else. "Oh, and also, what is your relationship with my partner, Jason? You are friends? I want to know about him - and not anything that I would find in his file, which I've already read. What foods does he like to snack on? What's his favorite color? Are there any particular scents that he is fond of? What's his favorite song?"
While asking her questions a small smile and dreamy, far-off look had crossed her face and abruptly it vanished as she scowled at him impatiently. "Speak, Pup!" she demanded, smacking him twice, quickly on the chest. She didn't know why she was calling him "pup", since he was at least a few years older than her, but the whole doughy demeanor got her to thinking that he was on a lower level than herself.
"I would caution you to think hard about your answers," she said smoothly, in a voice that mimicked the sultry tone of a viper. "Because I will not accept incorrect information. It is alright if you 'do not know', but for every one of those responses I get from you, I will break off one of your fingers and then stick them in my pocket to keep as trophies." She made no move to grab him or make good on her threat, but there was a depth to her voice that left no doubt - she would do what she promised. "I do not think it is necessary to detail to you what will happen if any information you give me ends up being false."
In her semi-confused state, Stephanie almost wanted to laugh with him - what was going on? - but then all hilarity fled as he started speaking again, and she could not tear her gaze away from the tone he took with her. There had been a few things she'd expected from him in regards to what she'd said, and what she was offering, but the most probable in her mind had been that he would have been happy. Happy to get his life back and happy to be rid of her. But of course, he was angry at her after dragging him through the mud and hitting a few hidden rocks to get to this point. And the suit that she could--Oh, my God!!! Did he just say that!??? He DID! Her name! Not 'boss', not 'Miss Agent' - no, wait, that was Benoit - but Stephanie! Her partner had called her by name! Although the way he'd said it was hinting at an almost acerbic barb, it was even more delightful than his genuine, boyish laughter had been. And for several moments she struggled to hang onto the rest of what he was saying, purely and unalterably floating in the clouds that Jason had said her name - and she knew right then and there that she wanted to hear him say it again. Maybe not exactly like that though...
But no...he was angry with her, as he had every right to be with the explanation he gave her. Even as guilt started to eat away at her again, feeling incredibly sorry for confusing him so much and using him the way she had through all of this, at the same time...she felt her heart start to heat up and the feelings of illness and aching pain were subsiding completely. He was...angry with her...and she was growing inexplicably fond of the sensation being the focus of his emotions. Through most of this trip he'd been fairly restrained as far as emotion went. There had been bursts of anger and desperate rage when fighting with Jean and going through his withdrawal early on, but never had he faced her with that heated look in his eyes. And that tone of voice! She was his superior! Was he really speaking to her this way? It was like a dream come true...
Not only that but the things he was now saying... What did he mean he didn't care? Then the flippant disrespect of Master - which barely got a ripple on her emotional radar as she waited for him to make his point - and trying not to think of what a good idea it'd be for him to get naked right now. God, why did he even have to mention that? Now she couldn't stop thinking about it! Although skin tight, there were some things his suit left to the imagination and she cursed the Agency designers for their "clean" taste.
She stopped internally giggling over that and blinked wide-eyed at him as he continued on, stating his reasons that the suit no longer mattered to him. A ruby blush dusted her cheeks in two bright blossoming flowers and her head swam as she struggled with the urge to cry. She really was a monster... But it was true! The way she felt about him... The way he messed with her head constantly too! She'd never cared about anyone in years and now here she was at a point of giving back almost everything she'd taken from him not because it would remove the "weakened limb" as Master had said, but because she wanted to do something for him. And it really wasn't fair bringing up the bathroom incident in that way. She had responsibilities and pressures too and at the time she'd been in a very emotional state!
Stephanie just wanted him to leave now... She didn't care about the obvious implications in his words but rather focused on the fact that he blamed her for everything just like she blamed herself. Wasn't it enough that she was trying now? That she was trying to be helpful? And that pesky feeling of arousal would not leave her even as she choked down a knot of tears. So much force... So much anger... She loved and hated it and it made her feel all sorts of terrible and yet incredibly sexy. Which was why he had to...
And then he was there, grabbing ahold of her, his lips finding hers and taking her breath away even as the new inhalation opening her lungs, was filled with him. For the first few minutes, riding on the shock of it, her body tensed and she flexed her arms defensively in his hold. But when she felt the unyielding strength and power rippling through his limbs and muscles and their bodies met in a just as eager and forceful "kiss", she was melting in his grip and her curves were molding to his muscled form. God, yes! Just like this! Oh--Mmmmm! She wanted him. Just. Like. Thiiiiissss...!
Here was everything about his anger that she loved, the passion and hunger she felt pulsing in her own chest reflected back at her tenfold in his lips and his touch. The power in his breast and body as he seemed to tower over her without even trying, every little frenzied swipe of his tongue forcing her to cling closer to him so she wouldn't fall to the ground in a puddle at his feet. And then his grip left her only for his hands to start wandering... He was hurting her. Not a lot, his hold forceful and pressing, pulling at her and fingernails vaguely digging in through his gloves and she was just about going crazy because of it! OH FREAKING GOD! MORE! She needed more of this--it was definitely time to make good on his promise to get naked earlier!
And amidst all of this, she knew she couldn't let him go - his hands were wandering further!!! - she couldn't let him go anywhere now, no matter what she'd felt or what Master hinted at. There was no way in freaking hell she could stop or give this up! She couldn't remember the last time her heart had beat this fast. Even eagerly awaiting Gwen's arrival or getting ready to engage the target in battle could not compare to the excitement and breaths of life filling her right now. And Jason was in every vein, moving her pounding heart with every stroke of his tongue on her skin--
A very unfamiliar voice broke everything before Jason suddenly vanished to teleport several feet from her. Stephanie wobbled on her feet as she stood on her own once more, her head filled with a dizzy high, not even noticing the intruder before Jason addressed the other man in angered tones. Even then, the intoxicated state he'd left her in kept her from focusing on any details and she couldn't find it in her heart to be mad at the intrusion. Jason had called her by name. Jason had fucking yelled at her. And Jason had just kissed her so hard she was still trying to mentally get to her feet.
As her vision cleared and she took the chubby man in, shaking her head slightly to clear the thick cloud of sex-filled fog Jason had left behind, she realized what he was saying and what was going on. Oh, Alexander's body... How late was it? Briefly she wondered if Rudy was here yet too and got momentarily excited about that, but then Jason was leaving, uttering hurried explanations as he made his way to the door. Her mind still cluttered with him, she merely muttered "Oh...um...hm..." raising her hand just a little as if to ask him to stay before her body refused to obey any more commands. Alright...well...he could go, she supposed. For now, while she was still filled with his scent and his taste, her skin tingling from his rough-handed touch. But later... well, the suit had to come off some time, didn't it? And she would most definitely help then.
A small, breathless, girlish giggle bubbled from between her lips as she licked at her teeth and blushed again in the empty, darkened room. Goodness, she really was bad!
***
Alright. Osono was freaking done with this fight. Not only could she not see this Agency bitch who was wearing some sort of cloaking device and thus every hit she landed seemed to come out of fucking nowhere and was impossible to block - and there wasn't a wasted movement, every fist in Ozzie's gut slamming home with incredible force. But also this chick was impossible to pin down. Sure, the fire on her leg helped identify where the lower half of her body was, but whenever Ozzie threw a punch for her face or stomach, the woman blocked her or dodged out of the way. It was incredibly frustrating, notwithstanding the fact that the crippling fire seemed to have little or no effect on the woman's abilities, and besides the added bonus of strength that Ozzie felt filling her muscles and bones, the whole fight was starting to get on her nerves.She wasn't even really aware of Alex or where he was, too focused on trying not to just kill the bitch she was fighting and be done with it - Ha! I win, Agent whore! - so when he passed behind her, even as he fled into her sphere of awareness, she ignored him. She'd deal with him later. For now, it was time to end this and get to the part where she wasn't actively fighting the urge to kill someone while she was fighting them and getting the shit beat out of her.
Looking to surprise the woman, Osono sloshed down in the ankle deep puddle at their feet and swept her leg underneath the other woman. As expected, the fire on her leg lifted several inches off the ground as the Agent jumped over Ozzie's legs. Before her feet had landed again, however, Osono was up, half-bent over, her foot whipping out to pound into the woman's gut. Since she still had air, there was no chance for her to catch her balance and she careened back into the opposite wall of the hallway. Ozzie was there, shoving the Agent's face into the wall and holding her still with her body. A fist poked into Ozzie's ribs, causing her to grunt, but she didn't let go, picking the woman's head up and shoving it forcefully back into the wall, before grabbing her by the top of her head and her neck and throwing her to the ground.
Then she was there, straddling the woman on the ground, pulling the gun still nestled in the waistband of her soaking wet pants, before pointing it where the woman's head should be. The invisible lady beneath her bucked and once or twice tried to use her legs to swoop up and wrap around Osono's neck, but Ozzie hit her in the face with the gun and the struggles stopped. Even when the woman regained her sense of balance, Ozzie had the gun cocked and pressing firmly into the woman's forehead and she didn't move.
"Let's...try this...again, yeah?" Ozzie said breathlessly. "If you don't tell me who the fuck you are right now, I'm gonna burn you alive and then shoot your brains out. In that order." Osono paused to move her short, blonde bangs that had fallen into her face and were dripping long streams of water down her brow ridge, out of the way before continuing.
"I'll start," she said, grabbing the top of the woman's head with her other hand and pulling off the mask that was covering her, revealing a harsh looking brunette scowling up at her. "You have something I need, and I'll be generous and ONLY blow your brains out, if you give it to me when I ask you for the first time. Codes. You have them - no, don't fucking argue. You have them. I need them. Give them to me now. Did I mention I'm on a bit of a time crunch? You have 3 seconds before I decide to just say Fuck it."
***
It took Stephanie only a few minutes before Jason's warmth and smell faded from her body and then the room, leaving her with only the sweet memories of the sensations. After that, she didn't really feel like being in that room alone anymore and left it, casting reluctant looks back over her shoulder and shivering and swooning all over again to remember how he'd stood there holding her.Turning into the hallway, as she began walking back the way she and Master had come upon arriving at the room, there was a new bounce to her step, a gentle rolling of her hips and lightly she hummed a pretty tune under her breath. Now to figure things out. She'd already decided that she couldn't let Jason go - and with everything he'd said and done, apparently he was in the same boat as she was in just not caring about fighting it anymore. And she had to be prepared for people to ask questions about something that was none of any of their business. Briefly, she thought about coming up with an elaborate lie about loyalty and how she needed to keep him with her because he knew the most about her case than anyone, but everyone would most likely see through that, just as Master had.
Eventually, she found herself struggling to even stay focused on the current problem as a fantasy of Jason tying her down entered her head, filling her body with delightful warmth. Then she started thinking that was a little like what he'd done with her arms in there and how she would have liked if he'd had his hands free to do other things while still restraining her. Maybe next time if there was rope around? Would it seem too obvious or scare him off if she provided him with necessary rope? Maybe she could say it was so he wouldn't slip and fall on the bloody stairs again and hope he'd just use it on her when the time came again. Would he take it as a jab to his masculinity and possibly get angry with her if she implied he had no balance? God she hoped so...
Any further thinking about it was cut short as she saw the man who'd shown up before come walking down the hallway from the opposite direction than the one she was headed towards. That made a new set of fresh memories pop up inside her head. That man! He'd come to the room and interrupted them and he knew Jason by name. The way they had spoken to each other had been very friendly and familiar and she suddenly had the jealous urge to pick the man's brain.
"You! Puppy," she called out to him, turning around to face him. Snapping her fingers severely and then pointing to the ground at her feet, she commanded, "Here. Now." waiting with a rigid grace for him to huff and puff up to the spot she indicated.
"State your name, your rank and current position in the Agency," she said forcefully, her voice only mimicking the cold deadpan she usually possessed, but more just sounding angry than anything else. "Oh, and also, what is your relationship with my partner, Jason? You are friends? I want to know about him - and not anything that I would find in his file, which I've already read. What foods does he like to snack on? What's his favorite color? Are there any particular scents that he is fond of? What's his favorite song?"
While asking her questions a small smile and dreamy, far-off look had crossed her face and abruptly it vanished as she scowled at him impatiently. "Speak, Pup!" she demanded, smacking him twice, quickly on the chest. She didn't know why she was calling him "pup", since he was at least a few years older than her, but the whole doughy demeanor got her to thinking that he was on a lower level than herself.
"I would caution you to think hard about your answers," she said smoothly, in a voice that mimicked the sultry tone of a viper. "Because I will not accept incorrect information. It is alright if you 'do not know', but for every one of those responses I get from you, I will break off one of your fingers and then stick them in my pocket to keep as trophies." She made no move to grab him or make good on her threat, but there was a depth to her voice that left no doubt - she would do what she promised. "I do not think it is necessary to detail to you what will happen if any information you give me ends up being false."
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Fri Nov 26, 2010 6:38 am
Huh. That was a girl.
Breaking things on other people’s head wasn’t exactly easy anymore. The last few days were taking a toll on him, and with Xander stuck hanging back to keep his foot under control, Alex was outside handling the brunt of everything. Alright – fine – that’s how it was supposed to’ve been, but if he was really thinking about how life was meant to be and how he should be in control like he wanted, then everyone else was going to have to remember if he’d been alone, he wouldn’t’ve be in this shit in the first place. All because of his stupid eyes! It wasn’t like he even used them half the time! He’d scared off a few assholes when he was a kid and he’d... y’know... decided thirty bucks for a few burgers was bullshit and wasn’t paying even if he’d eaten them, but Xander was the one who’d actually started killing people.
... He wasn’t... going to have to keep doing it, was he? Once they split up? ... He guessed it depended on how he ended things with the Agency, if he ever did. For now, though, he was going to have to do this the regular way. Osono had the right idea. The Agent he’d hit had dropped with a pile of brain damage he wasn’t going to shake off anytime soon, visible now that he couldn’t hold the illusion up. And fortunately, this one was a man. Far be it from him to start playing a knight when they went out of their way to stab him every few minutes, but it’d’ve felt weird having to fight a woman. Unnatural.
Sparky did it.
“I noticed.” Alex glanced over. The Agent Osono had trapped had as blank a face as the one in the restaurant. She’d put up much more of a fight than the other five, though. It looked like Peter was going at this in levels, sending the crap of the crap at them until the real threats started showing up. Not that she’d been a walk in the park. It was a good thing Osono was around to fight these psychos because Alex couldn’t handle them right now. “Does she look familiar?”
She looks like a chick.
“Is that a ‘no’?”
It’s a ‘we just had two women beating the shit out of each other half a second ago’, Xander said. Dude. That’s fucking hot.
“Great to know you’re focused,” Alex snapped, grabbing the mask off the fallen Agent’s face. Emotionless too, but that was because he was bleeding from his head. He hadn’t meant to smash the pot on him so hard, but they only needed one. “What about this guy? Is he ringing any bells?”
... Are... are you not watching this?
“Xander.”
She’s – like – on her –
“Xander.”
No one looks familiar to me, Alex. I don’t recognize anybody.
“You’re a huge help,” he said. “Thanks for trying to slink out of ever having to identify them.”
I’m serious. I have to see everything through your senses. It’s the one thing I hate about being in here ‘cause it’s so different from what I had.
‘One’ thing?
“It’s different how?”
Hugely, hugely inferior. If there was somehow an opposite of glasses, that’s what I’d be wearing. This sucks.
“Well – maybe you should’ve thought of that before you jumped in.” He wasn’t seriously having this conversation, not when they were in the middle of something important. Alex back glanced over at Osono and her captive. “She’s not going to talk.”
We’ll have to make her talk.
“How? By punching her?” Alex snorted. “I don’t see those people as breaking from a few bruises.”
I’ve got literally no problem watching Sparky try.
“Again, thanks for the help.” He took his eyes away to the sound of an aggravated huff. “Can you cut it out? You stopped a catfight with Gwen and that robot –”
Out of context. I figured it wasn’t the best time to bring it up. This guy’s gonna die in a minute.
“Huh?” There was a seeping glow of red trailing through the water. Alex knelt down and jerked back at the coldness of it, but reached out and tried to see where the blood was coming from. Nothing doing. The man’s hair was in the way and he didn’t have the motivation to dig through it to see if he could help. “Would she know that? Could we try... bargaining for his life?”
Ha ha ha ha ha!
Pain wouldn’t work. The Agents barely cared about themselves, let alone each other. What other angle did they have?
... What worked with Xander?
Booze?
No, that was on the other end of the scale they wanted. They needed her to talk. They needed her to... have to talk.
Booze. No. Hey – it’s better than anything else in your head.
Think. But it was hard when there was so much to go through. It’d be nice to have some help with it.
“Do you even want these codes?”
If they were sent here to dish ‘em out and they haven’t yet, then maybe that’s not why they’re here.
Or maybe Peter was doing his stupid ruse thing again and wanted them to ‘steal the codes’. Or maybe these two just couldn’t swallow the idea of handing over the keys to their front door. The fact that Osono and Alex had taken both of them out might have dampened their mood a little, too.
Think!
“Xander, seriously, I understand why you wouldn’t want to help with this, but we need to get through to that woman – or this guy – before he bleeds out and Osono shoots her.”
I legitimately cannot think of a reason for why I’d ever have to listen to you.
Alex sighed and dipped his hand into the water, trying to cool at least one searing pain. When this was over with, he was going on the run to someplace with a beach. Maybe Florida. Or he’d run back into David and learn about some Australian hotspots. Whatever worked.
“Okay,” he said, finally standing up. “Give me a minute. I’ll come up with something.”
Alex had to, so he would.
This was tragic. Awww – he felt sick. Sick. Very sick. Because this was tragic.
This was the most tragically tragic of the highest kind of tragic. This was tragic in the way most tragedies would be all, ‘Oh, dude, seriously? Dude – no joke – that is tragic’ about, and his tragedy would be all – like, ‘Dude I know! I can’t believe this even happened! I’m a second away from crying – oops, nevermind, ‘cause now I am’. And he was. ‘Cause this was so unbelievably tragic.
Eric Patten – a man he hadn’t even recognized ‘cause that guy was a thousand times more chill than he’d ever even guessed and that wasn’t even fair because he didn’t even act like an A-1 – had given him a cookie – holy shit! – from his pocket! If there was a way to’ve flippin’ insulted the guy more than by eating his gift like it was a... a cookie, Gary couldn’t think of it, ‘cause the way he felt right now and the way his gut was churning, he’d done the ultimately wrong and he would never – never – get that beautiful gift back.
Half of it. Half. Reduced from a whole. It was – okay, it’d been delicious – like – unfairly delicious – but that was no excuse in – DUDEITWASSTEPHANIEMARCHSHEWASBACKOUTSIDEAGAINTHISWASAWESOME!
She wanted him there? Heck yeah – sure! He bounded over and tried not to smile too brightly – Diana, Diana, sweet DiDi was at home still, but she wasn’t Stephanie March and she’d be okay with a late addition to his Free Five – and stood waiting for her lovely breath to float away in the mists as she asked for his name and his rank. And then before he could give it, she started asking him about Jason.
... Dude. Depressing.
There was no time to slouch in misery, you fool! Gary snapped to attention as she hit him on the chest. What’d she call him? Who the hell cared – she was talking to him. About Jason but... still!
“Ah... he’s – uh... he’s – um... well – Jason’s – like...” Wait, wait, wait! Calm down! He needed to talk slowly and make a sentence or else she’d think he was dumb and – ha, geez, after that thing with Eric Patten – pocket cookie! – he was not about to tick another Agency superstar off. Pocket cookie – dammit! “Well – he’s – uh... he’s – y’know –”
That was not slower and that was not a sentence. Gary, stop being horrible at this. Focus, Gary! Pull it together! This was going to end badly if he didn’t –
Whoa.
“Did you see that – did you see – you saw that – you saw?”
And from out of nowhere, stalking after the shadow that’d just whipped by and hadn’t stopped, someone else – HOLYSHIT ITWASMADELINEBERGMANN! He was literally being rewarded for every good thing he’d ever done in his life! Oh man – and Jason had laughed when he’d said the highest rank he’d ever talk to was an A-8! A-1, A-2, A-3 – he was collecting the whole set!
Madeline Bergmann did not look happy. She never really seemed to, not in any of the pictures Gary had, but now she seemed really not happy. She stood up straight and – why didn’t he have a camera or something – looked directly in his eyes. It was incredible, because she was looking right at Stephanie March, too! She was a master at watching everyone and everything at every moment, and Gary was honoured to be a part of this. This was definitely another add to his Free Five. Sorry, LiLo, but rehab had not done her good. Lindsey out, Madeline in. This was fantastic.
“WHERE,” she said, through gorgeously painted lips, “DID HE GO?”
Gary knew this! He knew the answer to this!
“Eric Patten? He went – ow!”
“THAT NAME IS IRRELEVANT TO MY INTERESTS.” This was the greatest day of Gary’s life! “WHERE IS MY CAT?”
Cat?
“I didn’t see –”
“YOU WASTE MY TIME. YOU.” Her beautiful eyes had gone to Stephanie’s incredible face. “YOUR BOX IS AT MY DOOR. REMOVE IT.”
And then she left, the subtle wave of delicate perfume floating behind her in a gentle trail. Gary almost swooned. By ‘almost’, he meant he totally did.
“Jason is definitely my friend. He’s my best bud.” He was so psyched! So he couldn’t help Madeline – that was okay! He was Stephanie March! “Like – that?” He crossed his fingers. “We’re like that, except – uh... more. We’re tight – so I am definitely your open book on all there is to him.”
Okay! Question one! And then two and three and four and five and...
“Jason eats –” He got a fluttery laugh flitting through his heart. This was so cool! And she called him her ‘pup’ – this was a dream! “Jason ‘snacks’ on those cheap double-stuffed chocolate Oreo knock-offs. They have to be double-stuffed – he won’t even look at the regular ones. He’s totally driven four miles out of his way to get to a grocery store to buy them ‘cause they were out everywhere else. Uh... he... likes... blue... I guess – I mean – he wears that suit all the time and that’s just lame with no real colour. He likes... smells? Uh...” Geez. Talk about specific. “I know he doesn’t like the smell of seafood – ‘cause... y’know... allergies. And as for songs – well – considering he goes all Bon Jovi when he’s drunk – which is hilarious, I dare say – I’d say anything by that guy is on his top ten.”
His fingers twitched a bit. So some part of him had heard that ‘break them off, use them as trophies’, but – seriously? Stephanie March. If she wanted his fingers – it was her! She could take his whole damn hand!
“So – uh... Anything else I can help you with? I be almost anything you want me to be.” DIANA. “I mean – like – professionally! Professionally! That’s – yeah!”
Nice. Smooth save. He still felt bad about that pocket cookie, though.
... Pocket cookie... Tragic...
Osono could not have been comfortable sitting on her like that. Alex had kept them waiting for a while trying to scrape a plan together, and during that time, the bleeding Agent had started looking paler and hadn’t woken up. Yup, that was brain damage. He wanted to feel bad, but Alex was still sure he would’ve taken a knife and stuck it in Osono’s back if he’d had another minute. So, no, he wasn’t mourning the eventual death. He was just annoyed he couldn’t’ve used it to get a real answer out of the one who was conscious.
He’d narrowed it down a little. Outside of life and death situations, Xander would follow along with whatever he was told if it meant he’d get something out of it, he’d find it funny, he was too tired to stop Alex from doing it or... well, occasionally, he’d do it if Gwen was the one asking. Alex had to hope that that last one wasn’t his way out of this. He wasn’t in any position to start flirting and he honestly didn’t want to.
Good. Agency women are fucking insane. It’s a universal rule no one else should have to learn the hard way.
Plus, it wasn’t important. Unless it had to do with this, he didn’t want to hear about it.
Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. If it worked on Xander, it’d work on the Agents, and they had no other way of reaching them. He was pacing around now, his clothes damp but his legs utterly soaked. At least the sprinklers had finally stopped. That was one small mercy but, again, completely pointless.
So, what do you want exactly? Just some time when you and I agreed on shit?
“No – I want an example of when you did what I said just because.”
Uh-huh.
“It can’t be from bargaining, not because you would’ve done it anyway, not because you didn’t have a choice or else we’d die...”
You’re severely limiting your search.
It could be simple, if that was all he had, but it had to be after Alex knew Xander was an Agent. Before then, anytime they’d worked together could’ve been part of the act to make Alex think he was just crazy. After that, he’d know it’d been real.
After that. ‘After that’. As in ‘immediately following the revelation’.
What?
“I think I came up with something.”
Actually?
“Yeah – I...” He turned back to the other two. “Osono – just... hold her there for a sec. Just one more minute – I have to talk something over with –” Gwen. “– with Gwen.”
Quit fucking up my lies! You always do that.
Alex walked further down the hall, not enough to lose sight of them and close enough to jump back if the action started again, but certainly out of earshot – or else effective eavesdropping. He felt excited. He had a really, really good feeling about this.
“Okay – work with me here,” he said. “Do you remember when you told me you were an Agent and I got mad and we started going back to the apartment?”
Yeah, and I remember it going great.
“Before that. After you told me but before we went upstairs. Do you remember how Gwen was bleeding and I was worried? And how you started trying to help her?”
I’m bracing myself for something obscenely stupid.
“I distinctly remember you trying to grab my arm to help her – not because I told you, but because you wanted to help – and that means you had the energy and the willpower to do something, but didn’t.”
The guy’d always been inhumanly silent when he puzzled things out. In the old days – meaning last week – Alex assumed it was because they thought at the same pace; as he mulled something over, so did Xander. He felt it was a reasonable conclusion to come to and it wasn’t until they’d switched places for a while that he’d had to change his theory to a mental-anti-spy shield, but it meant the same thing: the few times he was quiet was when he was piecing things together. Now, however, Alex could literally hear the strain of Xander trying to follow along, which ended in a very short and very confused, ... And...?
“You stopped trying to take over because I stopped you,” Alex went on. “And after that, you kind of... you reached out a little, but you didn’t go for it. You backed off when you didn’t have to.”
... And... it’s...
“It’s exactly what we need to get the Agent woman to do,” Alex said.
Oh, of course.
“Whatever reason you had for listening to me in that split second, Xander, if we can pull it off with her, we’ll get whatever codes she has and – I don’t know – get an escort to the place in Charlton. We need directions, don’t we? She’ll have that at least.” The silence he got for that one was... less enthusiastic of a response than he’d been hoping for, but Alex knew this was the answer. “So what was it? Why’d you listen?”
... I...
“Well?”
There was a small, reluctant sigh as Xander returned to his silent thinking. After a minute of waiting impatiently and feeling the pool of water in his shoes and between his toes, Alex was given a half-assed reply of, Were we inside already?
“Yes,” he said.
... And this was before we went upstairs.
“Yes!”
Don’t remember.
He shouldn’t’ve been surprised, but he was and annoyed by it. Basically, whatever the hell had come over the guy was up to him to solve. Alone.
Fine.
“It couldn’t’ve had to do with me being angry,” he muttered. “That’s never made a difference. And you obviously cared enough to try in the first place, and even if it wasn’t worth fighting about, you normally take over just to spite me...”
So...
Think. Think. Think...
Got it.
Forget being excited. Alex had a new favourite feeling: inspiration. It was wonderful! His thoughts would be loosely tugged in one direction, idly bobbing along his mind as they tried to form a connection, and then – from nowhere – some demon of an idea would burst in and take his full attention. The overwhelming taste of victory was almost better than realizing he might’ve figured it out.
“Authority.”
Oh God. I didn’t brace enough.
“Authority – that’s what it is! Holy shit – Xander! You fucking listened to me because I was in charge of –”
A massive crack sounded through the building as Xander slapped him across the face.
No. Bad.
“Or –” Alex coughed, trying to recover. “Or completely –”
Another slap. He saw tiny dots that didn’t fade for a few moments.
Get those filthy thoughts out of your head right now.
That wasn’t happening. The burst of inspiration was roaring around his mind, screaming he was right and couldn’t afford to let this get cast off. It fit! It fit perfectly! Agents – they were soldiers! Sort of. They took orders anyway, and there were very clear levels between who was in charge and who wasn’t. If they all had a boss and they breathed everything the Agency stood for, it wasn’t so hard to think they had no choice but to fall back on it – on their ‘do exactly what I say before I break your neck’ corporate law, which he’d seen a dozen times with lackeys stepping out of line minutes before Xander swooped in and tore the rest of them to pieces – if it looked like someone else was running the show. Alex wasn’t kidding around back then. He didn’t know how much he showed it, but he’d been furious and Xander had the most direct access to his emotions. Six years was a long time for a habit to stick around, but nobody knew how long he’d been an Agent for. Or how strict they’d been about it. After a while, it’d probably been automatic, and there was always the saying about habits dying hard... Now they were facing someone who still was a part of that crazy group.
“What did they do to Agents who didn’t listen?”
What do you think they did?
“Killed them?”
Painfully and slowly, depending on who it was and how much psycho they had in their coffee.
“That’s perfect,” Alex said. He felt a very loud ripple of resentment. He rolled his eyes at it. “Knock it off. Your job was to kidnap people and stick them in jars.”
Alex?
“Yes?”
Fuck you.
“Back at ya, flunky.” The first two had landed, but he’d done this enough to dodge his hand by now. Maybe it was mean and Xander was clearly offended, but – hey. His foot. Whose fault was that? “She works for Peter.”
Another ripple, louder than before. Alex was pushing all his buttons today.
You’re paying attention. Xander’s voice had turned sickly sweet. I’m so proud of you.
“Peter is alive again. If we crushed his face in with a rock, he can’t be using the same look. Unless he’s got regeneration...?” Xander didn’t answer. “Okay! Thanks for your insight! So unless he has regeneration, he probably... changed his appearance or something. And maybe we freaked him out when he died and he stays in the back. His army – that woman – there’s a chance she’s never seen him before! I mean – he’s already proven he’s okay field work.”
Get to the point.
“Feel like being an old enemy? You make a great Gwen.”
I dunno. Is that an order?
Alex thought about it. Then he said, “Yes.”
I am going to beat the ever-loving shit out of you.
... He was being oddly sensitive about this. It probably wasn’t a good idea to get the man soon-to-be-released angry with him, but he was overreacting a little bit, and since the ripple from that brought a grin to his face and it immediately got Alex another attempted slap – he slipped by it, which was great because that one could’ve knocked out his jaw – he decided he’d earned the right to bother him. Xander had no problem rubbing things in. Why the hell should he?
Yes. Yes, this was a good idea.
Breaking things on other people’s head wasn’t exactly easy anymore. The last few days were taking a toll on him, and with Xander stuck hanging back to keep his foot under control, Alex was outside handling the brunt of everything. Alright – fine – that’s how it was supposed to’ve been, but if he was really thinking about how life was meant to be and how he should be in control like he wanted, then everyone else was going to have to remember if he’d been alone, he wouldn’t’ve be in this shit in the first place. All because of his stupid eyes! It wasn’t like he even used them half the time! He’d scared off a few assholes when he was a kid and he’d... y’know... decided thirty bucks for a few burgers was bullshit and wasn’t paying even if he’d eaten them, but Xander was the one who’d actually started killing people.
... He wasn’t... going to have to keep doing it, was he? Once they split up? ... He guessed it depended on how he ended things with the Agency, if he ever did. For now, though, he was going to have to do this the regular way. Osono had the right idea. The Agent he’d hit had dropped with a pile of brain damage he wasn’t going to shake off anytime soon, visible now that he couldn’t hold the illusion up. And fortunately, this one was a man. Far be it from him to start playing a knight when they went out of their way to stab him every few minutes, but it’d’ve felt weird having to fight a woman. Unnatural.
Sparky did it.
“I noticed.” Alex glanced over. The Agent Osono had trapped had as blank a face as the one in the restaurant. She’d put up much more of a fight than the other five, though. It looked like Peter was going at this in levels, sending the crap of the crap at them until the real threats started showing up. Not that she’d been a walk in the park. It was a good thing Osono was around to fight these psychos because Alex couldn’t handle them right now. “Does she look familiar?”
She looks like a chick.
“Is that a ‘no’?”
It’s a ‘we just had two women beating the shit out of each other half a second ago’, Xander said. Dude. That’s fucking hot.
“Great to know you’re focused,” Alex snapped, grabbing the mask off the fallen Agent’s face. Emotionless too, but that was because he was bleeding from his head. He hadn’t meant to smash the pot on him so hard, but they only needed one. “What about this guy? Is he ringing any bells?”
... Are... are you not watching this?
“Xander.”
She’s – like – on her –
“Xander.”
No one looks familiar to me, Alex. I don’t recognize anybody.
“You’re a huge help,” he said. “Thanks for trying to slink out of ever having to identify them.”
I’m serious. I have to see everything through your senses. It’s the one thing I hate about being in here ‘cause it’s so different from what I had.
‘One’ thing?
“It’s different how?”
Hugely, hugely inferior. If there was somehow an opposite of glasses, that’s what I’d be wearing. This sucks.
“Well – maybe you should’ve thought of that before you jumped in.” He wasn’t seriously having this conversation, not when they were in the middle of something important. Alex back glanced over at Osono and her captive. “She’s not going to talk.”
We’ll have to make her talk.
“How? By punching her?” Alex snorted. “I don’t see those people as breaking from a few bruises.”
I’ve got literally no problem watching Sparky try.
“Again, thanks for the help.” He took his eyes away to the sound of an aggravated huff. “Can you cut it out? You stopped a catfight with Gwen and that robot –”
Out of context. I figured it wasn’t the best time to bring it up. This guy’s gonna die in a minute.
“Huh?” There was a seeping glow of red trailing through the water. Alex knelt down and jerked back at the coldness of it, but reached out and tried to see where the blood was coming from. Nothing doing. The man’s hair was in the way and he didn’t have the motivation to dig through it to see if he could help. “Would she know that? Could we try... bargaining for his life?”
Ha ha ha ha ha!
Pain wouldn’t work. The Agents barely cared about themselves, let alone each other. What other angle did they have?
... What worked with Xander?
Booze?
No, that was on the other end of the scale they wanted. They needed her to talk. They needed her to... have to talk.
Booze. No. Hey – it’s better than anything else in your head.
Think. But it was hard when there was so much to go through. It’d be nice to have some help with it.
“Do you even want these codes?”
If they were sent here to dish ‘em out and they haven’t yet, then maybe that’s not why they’re here.
Or maybe Peter was doing his stupid ruse thing again and wanted them to ‘steal the codes’. Or maybe these two just couldn’t swallow the idea of handing over the keys to their front door. The fact that Osono and Alex had taken both of them out might have dampened their mood a little, too.
Think!
“Xander, seriously, I understand why you wouldn’t want to help with this, but we need to get through to that woman – or this guy – before he bleeds out and Osono shoots her.”
I legitimately cannot think of a reason for why I’d ever have to listen to you.
Alex sighed and dipped his hand into the water, trying to cool at least one searing pain. When this was over with, he was going on the run to someplace with a beach. Maybe Florida. Or he’d run back into David and learn about some Australian hotspots. Whatever worked.
“Okay,” he said, finally standing up. “Give me a minute. I’ll come up with something.”
Alex had to, so he would.
* * *
This was tragic. Awww – he felt sick. Sick. Very sick. Because this was tragic.
This was the most tragically tragic of the highest kind of tragic. This was tragic in the way most tragedies would be all, ‘Oh, dude, seriously? Dude – no joke – that is tragic’ about, and his tragedy would be all – like, ‘Dude I know! I can’t believe this even happened! I’m a second away from crying – oops, nevermind, ‘cause now I am’. And he was. ‘Cause this was so unbelievably tragic.
Eric Patten – a man he hadn’t even recognized ‘cause that guy was a thousand times more chill than he’d ever even guessed and that wasn’t even fair because he didn’t even act like an A-1 – had given him a cookie – holy shit! – from his pocket! If there was a way to’ve flippin’ insulted the guy more than by eating his gift like it was a... a cookie, Gary couldn’t think of it, ‘cause the way he felt right now and the way his gut was churning, he’d done the ultimately wrong and he would never – never – get that beautiful gift back.
Half of it. Half. Reduced from a whole. It was – okay, it’d been delicious – like – unfairly delicious – but that was no excuse in – DUDEITWASSTEPHANIEMARCHSHEWASBACKOUTSIDEAGAINTHISWASAWESOME!
She wanted him there? Heck yeah – sure! He bounded over and tried not to smile too brightly – Diana, Diana, sweet DiDi was at home still, but she wasn’t Stephanie March and she’d be okay with a late addition to his Free Five – and stood waiting for her lovely breath to float away in the mists as she asked for his name and his rank. And then before he could give it, she started asking him about Jason.
... Dude. Depressing.
There was no time to slouch in misery, you fool! Gary snapped to attention as she hit him on the chest. What’d she call him? Who the hell cared – she was talking to him. About Jason but... still!
“Ah... he’s – uh... he’s – um... well – Jason’s – like...” Wait, wait, wait! Calm down! He needed to talk slowly and make a sentence or else she’d think he was dumb and – ha, geez, after that thing with Eric Patten – pocket cookie! – he was not about to tick another Agency superstar off. Pocket cookie – dammit! “Well – he’s – uh... he’s – y’know –”
That was not slower and that was not a sentence. Gary, stop being horrible at this. Focus, Gary! Pull it together! This was going to end badly if he didn’t –
Whoa.
“Did you see that – did you see – you saw that – you saw?”
And from out of nowhere, stalking after the shadow that’d just whipped by and hadn’t stopped, someone else – HOLYSHIT ITWASMADELINEBERGMANN! He was literally being rewarded for every good thing he’d ever done in his life! Oh man – and Jason had laughed when he’d said the highest rank he’d ever talk to was an A-8! A-1, A-2, A-3 – he was collecting the whole set!
Madeline Bergmann did not look happy. She never really seemed to, not in any of the pictures Gary had, but now she seemed really not happy. She stood up straight and – why didn’t he have a camera or something – looked directly in his eyes. It was incredible, because she was looking right at Stephanie March, too! She was a master at watching everyone and everything at every moment, and Gary was honoured to be a part of this. This was definitely another add to his Free Five. Sorry, LiLo, but rehab had not done her good. Lindsey out, Madeline in. This was fantastic.
“WHERE,” she said, through gorgeously painted lips, “DID HE GO?”
Gary knew this! He knew the answer to this!
“Eric Patten? He went – ow!”
“THAT NAME IS IRRELEVANT TO MY INTERESTS.” This was the greatest day of Gary’s life! “WHERE IS MY CAT?”
Cat?
“I didn’t see –”
“YOU WASTE MY TIME. YOU.” Her beautiful eyes had gone to Stephanie’s incredible face. “YOUR BOX IS AT MY DOOR. REMOVE IT.”
And then she left, the subtle wave of delicate perfume floating behind her in a gentle trail. Gary almost swooned. By ‘almost’, he meant he totally did.
“Jason is definitely my friend. He’s my best bud.” He was so psyched! So he couldn’t help Madeline – that was okay! He was Stephanie March! “Like – that?” He crossed his fingers. “We’re like that, except – uh... more. We’re tight – so I am definitely your open book on all there is to him.”
Okay! Question one! And then two and three and four and five and...
“Jason eats –” He got a fluttery laugh flitting through his heart. This was so cool! And she called him her ‘pup’ – this was a dream! “Jason ‘snacks’ on those cheap double-stuffed chocolate Oreo knock-offs. They have to be double-stuffed – he won’t even look at the regular ones. He’s totally driven four miles out of his way to get to a grocery store to buy them ‘cause they were out everywhere else. Uh... he... likes... blue... I guess – I mean – he wears that suit all the time and that’s just lame with no real colour. He likes... smells? Uh...” Geez. Talk about specific. “I know he doesn’t like the smell of seafood – ‘cause... y’know... allergies. And as for songs – well – considering he goes all Bon Jovi when he’s drunk – which is hilarious, I dare say – I’d say anything by that guy is on his top ten.”
His fingers twitched a bit. So some part of him had heard that ‘break them off, use them as trophies’, but – seriously? Stephanie March. If she wanted his fingers – it was her! She could take his whole damn hand!
“So – uh... Anything else I can help you with? I be almost anything you want me to be.” DIANA. “I mean – like – professionally! Professionally! That’s – yeah!”
Nice. Smooth save. He still felt bad about that pocket cookie, though.
... Pocket cookie... Tragic...
* * *
Osono could not have been comfortable sitting on her like that. Alex had kept them waiting for a while trying to scrape a plan together, and during that time, the bleeding Agent had started looking paler and hadn’t woken up. Yup, that was brain damage. He wanted to feel bad, but Alex was still sure he would’ve taken a knife and stuck it in Osono’s back if he’d had another minute. So, no, he wasn’t mourning the eventual death. He was just annoyed he couldn’t’ve used it to get a real answer out of the one who was conscious.
He’d narrowed it down a little. Outside of life and death situations, Xander would follow along with whatever he was told if it meant he’d get something out of it, he’d find it funny, he was too tired to stop Alex from doing it or... well, occasionally, he’d do it if Gwen was the one asking. Alex had to hope that that last one wasn’t his way out of this. He wasn’t in any position to start flirting and he honestly didn’t want to.
Good. Agency women are fucking insane. It’s a universal rule no one else should have to learn the hard way.
Plus, it wasn’t important. Unless it had to do with this, he didn’t want to hear about it.
Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. If it worked on Xander, it’d work on the Agents, and they had no other way of reaching them. He was pacing around now, his clothes damp but his legs utterly soaked. At least the sprinklers had finally stopped. That was one small mercy but, again, completely pointless.
So, what do you want exactly? Just some time when you and I agreed on shit?
“No – I want an example of when you did what I said just because.”
Uh-huh.
“It can’t be from bargaining, not because you would’ve done it anyway, not because you didn’t have a choice or else we’d die...”
You’re severely limiting your search.
It could be simple, if that was all he had, but it had to be after Alex knew Xander was an Agent. Before then, anytime they’d worked together could’ve been part of the act to make Alex think he was just crazy. After that, he’d know it’d been real.
After that. ‘After that’. As in ‘immediately following the revelation’.
What?
“I think I came up with something.”
Actually?
“Yeah – I...” He turned back to the other two. “Osono – just... hold her there for a sec. Just one more minute – I have to talk something over with –” Gwen. “– with Gwen.”
Quit fucking up my lies! You always do that.
Alex walked further down the hall, not enough to lose sight of them and close enough to jump back if the action started again, but certainly out of earshot – or else effective eavesdropping. He felt excited. He had a really, really good feeling about this.
“Okay – work with me here,” he said. “Do you remember when you told me you were an Agent and I got mad and we started going back to the apartment?”
Yeah, and I remember it going great.
“Before that. After you told me but before we went upstairs. Do you remember how Gwen was bleeding and I was worried? And how you started trying to help her?”
I’m bracing myself for something obscenely stupid.
“I distinctly remember you trying to grab my arm to help her – not because I told you, but because you wanted to help – and that means you had the energy and the willpower to do something, but didn’t.”
The guy’d always been inhumanly silent when he puzzled things out. In the old days – meaning last week – Alex assumed it was because they thought at the same pace; as he mulled something over, so did Xander. He felt it was a reasonable conclusion to come to and it wasn’t until they’d switched places for a while that he’d had to change his theory to a mental-anti-spy shield, but it meant the same thing: the few times he was quiet was when he was piecing things together. Now, however, Alex could literally hear the strain of Xander trying to follow along, which ended in a very short and very confused, ... And...?
“You stopped trying to take over because I stopped you,” Alex went on. “And after that, you kind of... you reached out a little, but you didn’t go for it. You backed off when you didn’t have to.”
... And... it’s...
“It’s exactly what we need to get the Agent woman to do,” Alex said.
Oh, of course.
“Whatever reason you had for listening to me in that split second, Xander, if we can pull it off with her, we’ll get whatever codes she has and – I don’t know – get an escort to the place in Charlton. We need directions, don’t we? She’ll have that at least.” The silence he got for that one was... less enthusiastic of a response than he’d been hoping for, but Alex knew this was the answer. “So what was it? Why’d you listen?”
... I...
“Well?”
There was a small, reluctant sigh as Xander returned to his silent thinking. After a minute of waiting impatiently and feeling the pool of water in his shoes and between his toes, Alex was given a half-assed reply of, Were we inside already?
“Yes,” he said.
... And this was before we went upstairs.
“Yes!”
Don’t remember.
He shouldn’t’ve been surprised, but he was and annoyed by it. Basically, whatever the hell had come over the guy was up to him to solve. Alone.
Fine.
“It couldn’t’ve had to do with me being angry,” he muttered. “That’s never made a difference. And you obviously cared enough to try in the first place, and even if it wasn’t worth fighting about, you normally take over just to spite me...”
So...
Think. Think. Think...
Got it.
Forget being excited. Alex had a new favourite feeling: inspiration. It was wonderful! His thoughts would be loosely tugged in one direction, idly bobbing along his mind as they tried to form a connection, and then – from nowhere – some demon of an idea would burst in and take his full attention. The overwhelming taste of victory was almost better than realizing he might’ve figured it out.
“Authority.”
Oh God. I didn’t brace enough.
“Authority – that’s what it is! Holy shit – Xander! You fucking listened to me because I was in charge of –”
A massive crack sounded through the building as Xander slapped him across the face.
No. Bad.
“Or –” Alex coughed, trying to recover. “Or completely –”
Another slap. He saw tiny dots that didn’t fade for a few moments.
Get those filthy thoughts out of your head right now.
That wasn’t happening. The burst of inspiration was roaring around his mind, screaming he was right and couldn’t afford to let this get cast off. It fit! It fit perfectly! Agents – they were soldiers! Sort of. They took orders anyway, and there were very clear levels between who was in charge and who wasn’t. If they all had a boss and they breathed everything the Agency stood for, it wasn’t so hard to think they had no choice but to fall back on it – on their ‘do exactly what I say before I break your neck’ corporate law, which he’d seen a dozen times with lackeys stepping out of line minutes before Xander swooped in and tore the rest of them to pieces – if it looked like someone else was running the show. Alex wasn’t kidding around back then. He didn’t know how much he showed it, but he’d been furious and Xander had the most direct access to his emotions. Six years was a long time for a habit to stick around, but nobody knew how long he’d been an Agent for. Or how strict they’d been about it. After a while, it’d probably been automatic, and there was always the saying about habits dying hard... Now they were facing someone who still was a part of that crazy group.
“What did they do to Agents who didn’t listen?”
What do you think they did?
“Killed them?”
Painfully and slowly, depending on who it was and how much psycho they had in their coffee.
“That’s perfect,” Alex said. He felt a very loud ripple of resentment. He rolled his eyes at it. “Knock it off. Your job was to kidnap people and stick them in jars.”
Alex?
“Yes?”
Fuck you.
“Back at ya, flunky.” The first two had landed, but he’d done this enough to dodge his hand by now. Maybe it was mean and Xander was clearly offended, but – hey. His foot. Whose fault was that? “She works for Peter.”
Another ripple, louder than before. Alex was pushing all his buttons today.
You’re paying attention. Xander’s voice had turned sickly sweet. I’m so proud of you.
“Peter is alive again. If we crushed his face in with a rock, he can’t be using the same look. Unless he’s got regeneration...?” Xander didn’t answer. “Okay! Thanks for your insight! So unless he has regeneration, he probably... changed his appearance or something. And maybe we freaked him out when he died and he stays in the back. His army – that woman – there’s a chance she’s never seen him before! I mean – he’s already proven he’s okay field work.”
Get to the point.
“Feel like being an old enemy? You make a great Gwen.”
I dunno. Is that an order?
Alex thought about it. Then he said, “Yes.”
I am going to beat the ever-loving shit out of you.
... He was being oddly sensitive about this. It probably wasn’t a good idea to get the man soon-to-be-released angry with him, but he was overreacting a little bit, and since the ripple from that brought a grin to his face and it immediately got Alex another attempted slap – he slipped by it, which was great because that one could’ve knocked out his jaw – he decided he’d earned the right to bother him. Xander had no problem rubbing things in. Why the hell should he?
Yes. Yes, this was a good idea.
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Fri Nov 26, 2010 11:06 pm
Almost immediately, she started to lament over the fact that apparently she'd hooked herself an idiot. Most of the time, threats worked to get the desired results, but occasionally, there'd be that one or two people who couldn't seem to handle the mental pressure and stress the additional promise of physical violence put upon them. It was rarely something Stephanie encountered in the Agency, but it never failed to make her instantly desire to give them an early retirement from their job. This was no exception. Especially considering the Puppy's seemingly close relationship with her partner and the fact that his imbecilic brain was keeping her from the more intimate information she desired to have about Jason.
She could see it in his face as he grappled with the tongue occupying the fleshy cheeks on his face and Stephanie gritted her teeth while she waited for the right buttons and gears to start functioning. But they didn't. More nonsense came out from between pudgy lips, bordered by dark blonde facial hair above and below and she struggled with the urge to reach in and detach it from the rest of his body. He KNEW things that she didn't and she wanted what he had! It wasn't fair! Did he think he could be closer to Jason and compete with her!? The fool! She would unlock those answers and more, even if she was forced to crack his skull open and pour out the goop he called a brain to find them.
As she made to reach for his ear, she stopped as someone flew by them and she paused to give him a puzzled look at his questions. Yes, she'd seen something but don't change the subject, Pup-- Then the thought instantly disappeared as Madeline approached them, deathly beautiful as ever, seeming to weigh their part of the hallway down with an overwhelming shadow that was both delightful and terrifying to behold. As much as Stephanie imagined how lovely it would be to spend an afternoon with this woman, just hanging out, shopping and torturing people, she was immediately struck by the fact that Madeline Bergmann was not a "hanging out" type of person. And it became even clearer when she spoke, in that same loud, practically shouting tone of voice. And her eyes swept over Stephanie in the dismissive look that a superior gave to someone below them who did not matter. Stephanie simply did not exist on Madeline's radar and as much as it personally hurt, it made her feel even more enamored with the ice cold A-2.
One of the first things that she became aware of in the brief orders issued by Madeline was that she'd lost something - or rather someone; another one of those things that Stephanie could just feel about her, was it was very unlikely that Madeline was an "animal" person to any degree and that "cat" was a nickname for a person - and another was the reminder of what had brought the Pup to interrupt her and Jason earlier. The "body" was here. The main instrumental part of the plan to capture Alexander was being fulfilled and practically made ready.
The fact that she was being ordered to take care of it made a burst of annoyance fill Stephanie and even though she greatly respected Madeline, she couldn't help saying aloud after the woman was gone, "Tch! Where's Benoit? It's his package, not mine." She scowled a bit longer as she watched the Agent's back swiftly recede down the hallway, but the irritation immediately cleared up when the Puppy started talking in complete sentences.
Her expression calmed to a more pleasant look as she turned back to him - although a vague storm cloud passed before her eyes to see him twist his two fingers together in a description of his relationship with Jason - and a small smile appeared on her lips and only grew the more he went on. She even ignored the minor bumbling stops and starts as he tried to think of his answers, ecstasy filling her heart with each new revelation giving her the urge to squeal and giggle like a schoolgirl. Cookies, eh? Instantly, she mentally marked down the specific detail of the snack and made a note to herself that she would do all in her power to get said treat for him. And immediately after that, she found herself completely smitten by the color blue and the thought of him wearing it, struggling not to emit a sigh as the image passed within her mind. Blue was now her favorite color too! Screw red or whatever the hell it had been before!
Hm, smells were definitely something she'd have to experiment with to find something that he would feel drawn to - maybe something soft at first, like vanilla or some mellow type of fruit, like strawberries. If those didn't get a response, then she'd increase the intensity to the more flowery and perfumey scents. She didn't even mind that basically that answer had been an "I don't know"; it was still VERY useful information! Especially considering that Stephanie was very fond of seafood, particularly shellfish - she was always willing to try flounder at restaurants that offered it, but shrimp got her particularly weak in the knees. Given the option to add it to pasta, she usually did and would pay extra to have the noodle/shrimp ratio to be about 50/50 in her bowl. Now, however, she found herself suddenly loathing fish and swore to herself to never let it touch her plate again.
And then the last question answered DID get a squeal from her, a hand going up to touch her blushing cheek while a giggle escaped from her throat. Seriously? Bon Jovi? How delightfully hard rock! And the mere thought of Jason singing made her leg muscles threaten to turn into pudding. Even the thought of a DRUNK Jason...! Immediately, she added "something alcoholic" to her mental shopping list. He'd drunk quite a bit of wine on the plane but apparently it hadn't been the right kind because it had put him to sleep rather than got him singing to her. At this point, it did not occur to her that there would be something wrong with her getting her colleague drunk. In fact... the time restraints they were on and the case period did not even have a fighting chance of entering her head.
Ecstatic with all this new information, Stephanie was smiling brightly with small giggles erupting from between her lips as she quickly enveloped the Pup in a squeezing hug. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck and she pulled him close, crushing him against her full, and round breasts while murmuring excitedly, "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You're marvelous!" Another giggle and she released him, looking him over with shining eyes, no longer seeing the idiot from before but something much more valuable. This guy was a gold mine!
Finally, the real world seem to remember itself around her as she cast a glance at the hallway and she realized once again that Madeline had given her orders. For a moment longer, she slumped and let out a heavy breath - why couldn't Benoit do it? Where was that smoking weasel hiding? It was his case and she would have expected him to be all over it - especially considering she'd have to leave the subject of Jason and Jason's friend behind, to tend to her responsibilities. Then she found herself perking back up when she actually started to think of what had arrived on their doorstep - the body of the Agent/target that had been keeping Gwen from her clutches this whole time. The man who'd given Benoit so much trouble all these years and who had Master practically squirming in fanboy delight to talk about him. Not to mention the fact that it was a body in stasis right now and she adored seeing them like that - she might get a peek right now if she wanted!
Glancing again at the chubby man before her, the considering smile on her face spread out in a seductive grin as she reached forward and slipped her fingers into his, to hold his hand in an unyielding grip. "How would you like to come with me to pick up the body of Alexander-the-guest, Puppy?" She paused and seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Hm... I don't even know his real name." Then she shook her head lightly and was once again smiling at him, the thought disappearing like mist in her scattered attention span. "And on the way there, you can tell me everything you know about Jason and possibly help me figure out where I can find some of those cookies he likes."
Then she was dragging him with her by his hand, pinching him with her sharp nails and smiling wickedly to herself as she stalked down the hall towards the front of the building and the stairs that led back to the first floor.
"I'm waiting," Osono said with a raised eyebrow, the gun pressing more firmly into the Agent woman's head. She'd become fully visible now, so Ozzie got a clearer look at the form-fitting "cat-suit" she wore and the thin athletic body underneath it. The woman's face wasn't particularly remarkable. Pretty, but with a strong chin and dark eyebrows, her expression blank despite the gun in her face and the threatening tone in Ozzie's voice. And her brown bob haircut floated in a small halo in the ankle-deep water.
This was aggravating and not something Ozzie had ever encountered before. Course, then again, she'd never really needed to interact with people this way before either, so she was at a bit of a loss for what to do with the emotionless "doll" that lay beneath her. And the strength had already seeped from her by this point, now that the fire was gone - having been instantly put out when the Agent had been thrown to the water covered ground. Everything was so wet in here, it would take a bit more effort to create a fire right now and she really didn't want to unless she absolutely had to.
Outwardly, Brie revealed nothing, her training fitting in automatically to shield her emotionally and physically from anything in the real world. Meanwhile, she thought wildly, her mind working a mile a minute to try and come up with a solution to the current problem. She knew what she was here to do, but there was no way she was going to make it easy and she certainly wasn't going to be overpowered by this trailer trash who fought like a toddler throwing a tantrum. If they wanted something from her, this lowly scum was going to have to drag it out of her on her last breath.
Where was Six, the bastard who'd been assigned on this mission with her? Any time now would be great for him to get involved - unless the other had gotten rid of him somehow? Unlikely. Six had done even better than she had on his assigned missions. No, he was waiting for something. Didn't matter. Even though they were a team, they both operated as separately working units and she could not waste time depending on him. She'd figure something out.
Then she was suddenly tensing as the gun in Osono's hand came flying out and smacked her in the face again, no reaction passing on her face as a dull pain filled her jaw and cheek bone. Then the gun barrel was grinding into her temple as Osono hissed, "You've got five seconds, Agent bitch! One. Two--Hey! I'm fucking talking to you!"
While Osono started counting, Brie's eyes had drifted to look at a distant point just over the other woman's shoulder, her vision clouded and unresponsive. Ozzie was about to hit her with the gun again, when Alex was suddenly leaving her to --what??? He was going to talk to Gwen NOW? Seriously, what a big fucking pussy! Couldn't he do anything without consulting that internal image of his girlfriend first? And she thought he said it wasn't even a real connection to her; what was the big deal???
So, she hesitated and gave him a scowling look, before saying, "Oh, yeah, I'll just wait here, ass--!"
As soon as Osono's eyes left her opponent, Brie took the moment to make her move reaching up for the hand that held the gun. For several moments, the two women were locked in a struggle once more as they both pushed and pulled at the weapon, each struggling to get it pointed at the other. Finally Brie wrenched it from Ozzie's grasp but it was knocked away a second later, disappearing under the five inches of water a few feet away. Brie's fist lashed out to punch Ozzie's chin, slamming home with a grunt from the fire woman, knocking her head back and stunning her enough to flip them both over and reverse their positions on the floor.
Unlike the Agent, however, Osono squirmed enough underneath her to flip onto her stomach with Brie straddling her back. An arm wrapped around and locked on Ozzie's neck, pulling tightly as both women panted heavily. Osono's hand reached up to pull at the Agent's arm, grimacing against a bloodied lip before whipping her head back and smacking Brie in the face with the back of her skull. Brie did not let go, but it gave Ozzie enough leverage to move them both so that the Agent lay on her back once more in the water, Ozzie's back pressing into her chest. The arm around her neck started to tighten, holding Ozzie close to her as she gasped for air, Brie's legs moving to wrap around her waist from behind. Then the two squirmed like fish in the puddle, clothes and hair slick and wet with liquid and breathing coming in laborious grunts and gasps.
Osono reached up to pull viciously at the woman's hair, and bucked violently in her full-body hold, trying to make her let go, all the while hoping and praying that Alex wasn't too much of a pussy to get involved. Otherwise, the bitch was going to be fucking barbecue - codes or no codes! Afterall, Ozzie had already done everything in trying to be "nice" about it. Enough was enough!
She could see it in his face as he grappled with the tongue occupying the fleshy cheeks on his face and Stephanie gritted her teeth while she waited for the right buttons and gears to start functioning. But they didn't. More nonsense came out from between pudgy lips, bordered by dark blonde facial hair above and below and she struggled with the urge to reach in and detach it from the rest of his body. He KNEW things that she didn't and she wanted what he had! It wasn't fair! Did he think he could be closer to Jason and compete with her!? The fool! She would unlock those answers and more, even if she was forced to crack his skull open and pour out the goop he called a brain to find them.
As she made to reach for his ear, she stopped as someone flew by them and she paused to give him a puzzled look at his questions. Yes, she'd seen something but don't change the subject, Pup-- Then the thought instantly disappeared as Madeline approached them, deathly beautiful as ever, seeming to weigh their part of the hallway down with an overwhelming shadow that was both delightful and terrifying to behold. As much as Stephanie imagined how lovely it would be to spend an afternoon with this woman, just hanging out, shopping and torturing people, she was immediately struck by the fact that Madeline Bergmann was not a "hanging out" type of person. And it became even clearer when she spoke, in that same loud, practically shouting tone of voice. And her eyes swept over Stephanie in the dismissive look that a superior gave to someone below them who did not matter. Stephanie simply did not exist on Madeline's radar and as much as it personally hurt, it made her feel even more enamored with the ice cold A-2.
One of the first things that she became aware of in the brief orders issued by Madeline was that she'd lost something - or rather someone; another one of those things that Stephanie could just feel about her, was it was very unlikely that Madeline was an "animal" person to any degree and that "cat" was a nickname for a person - and another was the reminder of what had brought the Pup to interrupt her and Jason earlier. The "body" was here. The main instrumental part of the plan to capture Alexander was being fulfilled and practically made ready.
The fact that she was being ordered to take care of it made a burst of annoyance fill Stephanie and even though she greatly respected Madeline, she couldn't help saying aloud after the woman was gone, "Tch! Where's Benoit? It's his package, not mine." She scowled a bit longer as she watched the Agent's back swiftly recede down the hallway, but the irritation immediately cleared up when the Puppy started talking in complete sentences.
Her expression calmed to a more pleasant look as she turned back to him - although a vague storm cloud passed before her eyes to see him twist his two fingers together in a description of his relationship with Jason - and a small smile appeared on her lips and only grew the more he went on. She even ignored the minor bumbling stops and starts as he tried to think of his answers, ecstasy filling her heart with each new revelation giving her the urge to squeal and giggle like a schoolgirl. Cookies, eh? Instantly, she mentally marked down the specific detail of the snack and made a note to herself that she would do all in her power to get said treat for him. And immediately after that, she found herself completely smitten by the color blue and the thought of him wearing it, struggling not to emit a sigh as the image passed within her mind. Blue was now her favorite color too! Screw red or whatever the hell it had been before!
Hm, smells were definitely something she'd have to experiment with to find something that he would feel drawn to - maybe something soft at first, like vanilla or some mellow type of fruit, like strawberries. If those didn't get a response, then she'd increase the intensity to the more flowery and perfumey scents. She didn't even mind that basically that answer had been an "I don't know"; it was still VERY useful information! Especially considering that Stephanie was very fond of seafood, particularly shellfish - she was always willing to try flounder at restaurants that offered it, but shrimp got her particularly weak in the knees. Given the option to add it to pasta, she usually did and would pay extra to have the noodle/shrimp ratio to be about 50/50 in her bowl. Now, however, she found herself suddenly loathing fish and swore to herself to never let it touch her plate again.
And then the last question answered DID get a squeal from her, a hand going up to touch her blushing cheek while a giggle escaped from her throat. Seriously? Bon Jovi? How delightfully hard rock! And the mere thought of Jason singing made her leg muscles threaten to turn into pudding. Even the thought of a DRUNK Jason...! Immediately, she added "something alcoholic" to her mental shopping list. He'd drunk quite a bit of wine on the plane but apparently it hadn't been the right kind because it had put him to sleep rather than got him singing to her. At this point, it did not occur to her that there would be something wrong with her getting her colleague drunk. In fact... the time restraints they were on and the case period did not even have a fighting chance of entering her head.
Ecstatic with all this new information, Stephanie was smiling brightly with small giggles erupting from between her lips as she quickly enveloped the Pup in a squeezing hug. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck and she pulled him close, crushing him against her full, and round breasts while murmuring excitedly, "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You're marvelous!" Another giggle and she released him, looking him over with shining eyes, no longer seeing the idiot from before but something much more valuable. This guy was a gold mine!
Finally, the real world seem to remember itself around her as she cast a glance at the hallway and she realized once again that Madeline had given her orders. For a moment longer, she slumped and let out a heavy breath - why couldn't Benoit do it? Where was that smoking weasel hiding? It was his case and she would have expected him to be all over it - especially considering she'd have to leave the subject of Jason and Jason's friend behind, to tend to her responsibilities. Then she found herself perking back up when she actually started to think of what had arrived on their doorstep - the body of the Agent/target that had been keeping Gwen from her clutches this whole time. The man who'd given Benoit so much trouble all these years and who had Master practically squirming in fanboy delight to talk about him. Not to mention the fact that it was a body in stasis right now and she adored seeing them like that - she might get a peek right now if she wanted!
Glancing again at the chubby man before her, the considering smile on her face spread out in a seductive grin as she reached forward and slipped her fingers into his, to hold his hand in an unyielding grip. "How would you like to come with me to pick up the body of Alexander-the-guest, Puppy?" She paused and seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Hm... I don't even know his real name." Then she shook her head lightly and was once again smiling at him, the thought disappearing like mist in her scattered attention span. "And on the way there, you can tell me everything you know about Jason and possibly help me figure out where I can find some of those cookies he likes."
Then she was dragging him with her by his hand, pinching him with her sharp nails and smiling wickedly to herself as she stalked down the hall towards the front of the building and the stairs that led back to the first floor.
***
She prided herself on being a good Agent, particularly when it came to remaining undetected. So, when Brie found herself lying on her back, pinned beneath an untrained, clumsy, crazy woman, her pride was just a little bit more than hurt. More than that, she couldn't help but feel like she'd screwed everything up by being so quickly identified, let alone the fact that the other woman had taken her down in 15 minutes. She'd been prepared for the fire thing, especially with the state of the building when they'd entered, but she certainly hadn't expected the bitch to use it on her! Even so, the drugs pumping through her body that kept her chemically balanced and focused, helped turn the burns all up her right leg into nothing more than a discomfort than actually painful."I'm waiting," Osono said with a raised eyebrow, the gun pressing more firmly into the Agent woman's head. She'd become fully visible now, so Ozzie got a clearer look at the form-fitting "cat-suit" she wore and the thin athletic body underneath it. The woman's face wasn't particularly remarkable. Pretty, but with a strong chin and dark eyebrows, her expression blank despite the gun in her face and the threatening tone in Ozzie's voice. And her brown bob haircut floated in a small halo in the ankle-deep water.
This was aggravating and not something Ozzie had ever encountered before. Course, then again, she'd never really needed to interact with people this way before either, so she was at a bit of a loss for what to do with the emotionless "doll" that lay beneath her. And the strength had already seeped from her by this point, now that the fire was gone - having been instantly put out when the Agent had been thrown to the water covered ground. Everything was so wet in here, it would take a bit more effort to create a fire right now and she really didn't want to unless she absolutely had to.
Outwardly, Brie revealed nothing, her training fitting in automatically to shield her emotionally and physically from anything in the real world. Meanwhile, she thought wildly, her mind working a mile a minute to try and come up with a solution to the current problem. She knew what she was here to do, but there was no way she was going to make it easy and she certainly wasn't going to be overpowered by this trailer trash who fought like a toddler throwing a tantrum. If they wanted something from her, this lowly scum was going to have to drag it out of her on her last breath.
Where was Six, the bastard who'd been assigned on this mission with her? Any time now would be great for him to get involved - unless the other had gotten rid of him somehow? Unlikely. Six had done even better than she had on his assigned missions. No, he was waiting for something. Didn't matter. Even though they were a team, they both operated as separately working units and she could not waste time depending on him. She'd figure something out.
Then she was suddenly tensing as the gun in Osono's hand came flying out and smacked her in the face again, no reaction passing on her face as a dull pain filled her jaw and cheek bone. Then the gun barrel was grinding into her temple as Osono hissed, "You've got five seconds, Agent bitch! One. Two--Hey! I'm fucking talking to you!"
While Osono started counting, Brie's eyes had drifted to look at a distant point just over the other woman's shoulder, her vision clouded and unresponsive. Ozzie was about to hit her with the gun again, when Alex was suddenly leaving her to --what??? He was going to talk to Gwen NOW? Seriously, what a big fucking pussy! Couldn't he do anything without consulting that internal image of his girlfriend first? And she thought he said it wasn't even a real connection to her; what was the big deal???
So, she hesitated and gave him a scowling look, before saying, "Oh, yeah, I'll just wait here, ass--!"
As soon as Osono's eyes left her opponent, Brie took the moment to make her move reaching up for the hand that held the gun. For several moments, the two women were locked in a struggle once more as they both pushed and pulled at the weapon, each struggling to get it pointed at the other. Finally Brie wrenched it from Ozzie's grasp but it was knocked away a second later, disappearing under the five inches of water a few feet away. Brie's fist lashed out to punch Ozzie's chin, slamming home with a grunt from the fire woman, knocking her head back and stunning her enough to flip them both over and reverse their positions on the floor.
Unlike the Agent, however, Osono squirmed enough underneath her to flip onto her stomach with Brie straddling her back. An arm wrapped around and locked on Ozzie's neck, pulling tightly as both women panted heavily. Osono's hand reached up to pull at the Agent's arm, grimacing against a bloodied lip before whipping her head back and smacking Brie in the face with the back of her skull. Brie did not let go, but it gave Ozzie enough leverage to move them both so that the Agent lay on her back once more in the water, Ozzie's back pressing into her chest. The arm around her neck started to tighten, holding Ozzie close to her as she gasped for air, Brie's legs moving to wrap around her waist from behind. Then the two squirmed like fish in the puddle, clothes and hair slick and wet with liquid and breathing coming in laborious grunts and gasps.
Osono reached up to pull viciously at the woman's hair, and bucked violently in her full-body hold, trying to make her let go, all the while hoping and praying that Alex wasn't too much of a pussy to get involved. Otherwise, the bitch was going to be fucking barbecue - codes or no codes! Afterall, Ozzie had already done everything in trying to be "nice" about it. Enough was enough!
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Mon Nov 29, 2010 12:12 am
“Sir?”
Eric stopped walking and turned around, hitting Jason with a delighted curve of his mouth from this apparently pleasant interruption. His phone was in his palm and he’d been tapping away at it, but although he took his other hand away and patiently let it rest in his pocket, the phone stayed out and stayed in the picture. If he was working, Jason could... no. No, he couldn’t come back later. This had to be settled now.
... But if Eric was busy...
“Jay-jay! What’s cookin’ in that brain of yours?”
A massive weight fell from his shoulders. Permission to speak. He didn’t have to put this off.
“Sir,” he said, “I feel it’s in the Agency’s best interest to allow me to carry on in this assignment.”
“Oh?”
Jason felt awkward again. That one sound told him more than anything else Eric could’ve said. It’d been polite and happy, but it was sceptical too, and the way the A-1 was waiting for him to keep going was like an impossible challenge to prove himself. If Jason did it, he’d get what he wanted and have that salvage option for his record, but it’d seem as if he’d told Eric – to his face – that he was wrong. If he didn’t do it, Eric would be thrilled, but then Jason... and Stephanie...
“I’d like to be able to do it while remaining in possession of my –” He’d been demoted. “... in possession of the Agency’s suit.” Jason stood with his back tall, trying to will his way to winning this with through posture alone. Considering everything else that seemed to impress the man, it could actually do the trick. “I understand the protocol surrounding your decision, but I’d also like to remind you of my record to this point. I’ve put in several solid years of wearing this and I’ve brought in hundreds of very specific and very tangible accomplishments in almost every Agency division – including the public ones.” He felt like he’d said this a thousand times already. If he had, it was good to know it was consistent when it got replies: Eric, beyond his smile, looked damn bored. Jason sighed. “Sir, I can be here all day trying to convince you –”
“Oh, don’t do that.” Now beyond his smile, Eric looked pained.
Jason went on. He refused to give up.
“You have the authority to ignore protocol at the drop of a hat.” He felt very stupid explaining to the A-1 what the A-1 could do. “You’ve been doing it all day – and all of yesterday!”
“Have I?”
“No.” He paused, long enough to let the flutter of panic in his chest do its work. He meant ‘yes’, obviously, and anyone who’d been following along knew Eric had been more than loose with rules since he’d arrived, but calling attention to it outside of thanking the man wouldn’t do much besides piss him off. A-1s were supposed to enforce procedure, in paper and name if not in practise. In fact, they were supposed to do it more than anyone. “No – you... I...” Crap.
“Jason.” It was Eric’s turn to stand tall. As if he hadn’t already been a behemoth in the Flunky’s skin. “I adore seeing how devoted you are, and your perfect record – it’s – oh, it’s so fascinating –” And a master of sarcasm on top of everything else. Was there anything Eric couldn’t do? “– but I’m little confused about the point you’re trying to make. Are you fighting to stay with this case or are you trying to get your suit?”
“My suit.” That much was obvious. Jason needed it more than he let on, and considering he’d ‘let on’ by breaking into sweats, shaking, collapsing and having a nap on his lead’s lap... “And my case.”
“Ah. Cute.” Jason could feel Eric’s attention waning. “Bit of a gamble, though.”
The man had gone out of his way to ignore half the things going on. True, a lot of it had to do with Eric not really caring, but here they were at Charlton and Jason knew, whether or not its ownership was still up for debate – and there were two answers to that one: Jason’s and reality’s – meant nothing in face of the fact that he was wearing it. The papers hadn’t been processed yet, or if they had, no one had come for his throat about it. He was very much a ‘later rather than sooner’ kind of person. He’d never grasped the concept of ‘getting it over with’ when the chance of getting out of it would lurk behind him, and he took to off-chances like they were written in stone rather than air the way they were supposed to be. Despite that mini-philosophy, which had never failed to serve him well, Jason opened his fat mouth and dimly wondered, “How so?”
“Well... aside from the absolute, glaring, neon-yellow, pedestal-hopping obvious, both those things are mutually exclusive.”
“Are they.” A statement, not a question. “... How so?”
The A-1 slowly closed his eyes and raised his massive fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. Shaking his head, he let out a quiet laugh, the kind a man would normally make when they were amazed past all belief or at the end of their patience and getting ready to murder the thing-that-would-not-shut-up. Jason didn’t blame him for either of those options, but he did have a preference for which one Eric went with.
“Jason.” Still shaking his head. “Jason, Jason, Jason.” He stopped. He put his hand out and clapped it on Jason’s shoulder, a little more roughly than it needed to be even after he factored in the size of it. “I’m gonna make this easy for you – just... really spell it out, so try hard to follow along with what I’m saying, okay?” He waited for an answer. He got a weak nod of the head. He grinned. “Great! So here it is: your suit...” Jason knew what was coming. “... or your case. Pick one. And move over.”
Pardon?
Eric, with the hand on his shoulder, gave him a push towards the wall. It wasn’t rough but it startled him all the same, and he would’ve asked about it if the man hadn’t stepped away as – what the hell was that?
“... Was... that Benoit?”
“Unless you’ve got a dick that can fuck across a building, you’re going completely the wrong way!”
That... shadow had already vanished down the hall and around the corner, but the instant Eric’s voice rang out, Frenchie came back long enough to give the A-1 the fiercest middle finger Jason had ever seen. Then he was gone again.
“... He’s fast.”
Unbelievably fast.
“Yeah – and useless. That’s the French for you.”
“PATTEN.”
Oh geez. Jason and Eric, in that one instant, were more alike than any two people on the planet. They both turned to face the woman click-click-clicking down the hall, but when the awkwardness of having to stare at her settled in, it didn’t take much to realize it was for different reasons. Jason wasn’t sure how to act around a woman with a permanent sneer across her face, and the way she glared down at him – and she did it while being shorter by an inch – as if she blamed him for something he had no idea of knowing about put him more on the spot than he’d ever been or wanted. Eric, meanwhile, looked more stuck on coming up with a polite reason to kill her. When that failed, he stuck out his chin, turned his nose up, pulled the corners of his mouth down – he was mocking her.
“MAD-DEE-LINE.”
And then they just stared, long enough for Jason to forget they could move. Finally, Eric broke the contest with a new and overly sweet smile, one that scrunched up his nose and turned his eyes into friendly, closed half-moons behind his glasses. Madeline scoffed at it and stormed away, flicking her hand as she walked in a way that would’ve gotten a whip to snap if she’d been carrying one. ... Was it invisible or something?
“Is there some history between you two?”
“Not in the traditional sense. Like any reasonable person knows, it’s best to stay away from Agency women. Jason.” Eric laughed. “But seriously, make up your mind. Where is she, anyway?”
“She – uh...” Good question. He’d left her with Gary. ... Aw, shit. He left her with Gary. “She’s... on her way, I’m sure.”
“Uh-huh. Well – you two get to work. Hurry up with the Xander thing – I want it running in twenty minutes. And what’s that guy... who is he?”
It scared him that Jason knew who he was talking about.
“Quin?”
“Yeah – him. Call him, find him, figure out where the hell he is. Honestly – I know Benny’s got a way of doing things, but this is two cases now. Let’s speed it up, children.”
The way Eric was walking towards the lobby set off a burst of insight in Jason’s head.
“Sir? Are you not going to be handling the stasis cell?”
“A-1 stuff.”
And that was that as far as an explanation went. Eric headed down the hall and disappeared around the same corner Benoit had gone by. The hollowness set in soon after. Despite all the tension he’d had to cut through to even make it to standing in front of him, the most he’d gotten was a ‘mutually exclusive’ choice? What sort of choice was that? If he took the suit, he’d be abandoning his assignment, and if he left it behind, he’d pass out a third of the way to Elmira. Talk about a no-win scenario...
“Jason!” Gary. “Look at ‘im standing all proper, like he’s talking to the Queen. Dude – loosen up a little! You’re ruining my story!”
Jason frowned. This wasn’t the time to be relaxed. Still, he realized he might’ve been stiff. He’d gotten into the habit of standing with his arms folded behind him when he had nothing better to do or when he’d finished talking to someone he felt he had to act more formal around. Hey – Benoit did it almost the time when he wasn’t being terrorized by Eric or... his new ‘friend’, so maybe it was the natural Agency way of being polite. That meat it was something to be proud of not, not laughed at by a man who thought ‘the moon is made of cheese’ was only stupid because it would’ve gone stale by now.
... And again: aw, shit.
“What story?”
Gary was ecstatic to go over it again.
“Mardi Gras! You earned all those beads!”
“Gary, can you – just...” Jason managed to do a half wave and get him to detach himself from his lead, from who he’d managed to steal an arm from to link his around it. He waddled over with a slightly bemused grin on his face, completely oblivious – for now – to why he needed a ‘talking to’. “So... exactly how many stories have you gone over?”
“Uh... well – it’s only been – like – five minutes.” That was a reli– “I gave her the highlights instead.”
“‘Highlights’.”
“You and that old guy hitting on the camel, you and that other old guy hitting on the cow, you and yet another old guy hitting on those ducks... The entire week was you getting lost and winding up with some old dude, flirting with some animal after three bottles of tequila.” Gary shrugged. “I dunno. She got a kick out of hearing you drank so I figured I’d run through a few parties. She definitely got the message about tequila.”
“Go stand in the corner.”
At least Gary knew what that meant. His shoulders slumped and he gave a pitiful whine, but he quietly marched to the nearest part of the wall and stood there facing it in silence.
“Always with this stupid corner... It’s not even a corner, it’s a wall...”
The point was to do it without talking. If Jason could, he’d leave him there for the night, but the corner only bought five minutes of silence before the man got bored and wandered off to wreak more havoc.
“Gary is stupid,” was Jason’s explanation. It was true. Forget about him. “Eric isn’t going to oversee the stasis cell’s installation. Benoit is... running around somewhere. He went towards the lobby but I have no idea if he’s still in the area.” Or the building. Or the country, for that matter. “We’re supposed to have the cell in place in twenty minutes.”
It was more than ample time. They just had to go downstairs to the loading bay and meet whatever truck that’d been considered secure enough to make the trip. He could only wonder how they’d packaged the thing; the heavy wires and tubes that’d been stuck in the other four couldn’t have made for an easy delivery, and he wouldn’t be surprised if they’d jammed the whole thing into a cube of metal. That’d make for getting the cell out to install a bit harder, but he trusted the Agency in their work. They never got into anything they couldn’t crawl out of again later.
“This might be the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. Sparky – get off her, please. You’ve made your point.”
Too. Much. Pain.
‘Agony’ wasn’t even hinting at the searing surge of torment peeling away the nerves around his foot. What scared him more than that was knowing Xander still held off the last bit. Alex wasn’t sure if it was something he wanted to thank him for or tell him to stop doing, because he needed the one who could act to not run out of strength halfway through. But the pain... And Xander pushed at his knee, straightening his leg out of its limp.
“Ow.”
Suck it up.
At least he had the courtesy to squeeze a condolence in there, around the starkly unsaid, ‘Can you try being a man for once?’
“Look at this mess. You’re lucky it’s Saturday or there’d be hell to pay for making us clean it up by morning.” Xander didn’t walk towards the women. He was walking to the other guy, the one bleeding in the near three inches of water. It looked like Agents didn’t half-ass it when it came to fire safety. “Anyway, you’ve failed here. I’m not surprised – most of you are horrible at your jobs – but I did think you were smart enough to avoid getting hit on the head with a pot. This is the last time I have faith in any of you.”
... He wasn’t talking to the female Agent at all. Aside from note to Osono, he’d been chatting to the one who was unconscious, which made no sense because he was the one who wasn’t a threat anymore. Despite that, despite the extra effort he made of wading Alex’s foot through the water, the feeling of it raging through his limb and hanging off every inch of skin it could cling to, Xander kept his eyes on the fallen one. He would’ve liked to ask if he had a plan for dealing with Osono, who’d be just as dangerous if she felt betrayed, but there was a firm hold over Alex’s mouth as it twisted into a friendly smile. That thing creeped him out when he saw it reflected back in the mini-ocean. It really did look like Peter’s. A little out of practise, maybe a bit more sane, but... yeah. Pretty on the money.
“I know, I know – ‘it’s not fair ‘cause no one said it was a test’. Well...” Xander was flipping the man over. The Agent gave an uncomfortable grunt before flopping face-first into the water. “Still hear me? Wonderful! As I was saying, you gotta look at it like this was the Boy Scouts – prepared for anything, as they say. Unfortunately, if you need to grab a few tips from children to remember to do your job – you’re recon, right? – then I gotta say, your involvement in the future of this organization is not lookin’ too bright.”
A thin stream of bubbles was winding up from the water. The Agent was drowning.
“You – uh...” Alex kept his voice very, very quiet. “You have to do it this way?”
It was so... personal.
Peter – Angry wave. – had this thing about keeping bodies ‘intact’. Smothering, drowning, crack-to-the-head-and-hope-for-brain-damage... You remember.
He’d been trying to forget. The Agent started to burble, though, and Xander had not let go of the man’s shoulders. It was almost a perfect image of what they’d dealt with when they’d wandered around with the traitor. He’d been keeping the guy submerged, and when it looked like – through an enduring instinct for survival – that he, in light of his wound, had recovered enough sense to turn his head and escape, Xander turned it back. With his finger – one finger, Alex noted, in that oh-so-adorable way Peter’d been crazy about.
“As for you –” And this time he was talking to the woman. “Not much better. You’re still awake, so – I guess – that’s a point on your end, but I do remember ordering a pack of minions that weren’t dumb enough to stick so close to their victims if they had no intention of getting into a fight. And – I’m sorry, at what point were you actually ordered to engage in such shenanigans? I don’t remember writing that down.” Xander shook his head and tut-tutted. “At any rate, I feel it’d be best to let her decide what to do with you. So what do you think, dear Osono? Take her back to Charlton or fire her ass right now?”
And then he laughed, delighted with his pun.
If we take her to Charlton, we won’t need to ask her about the codes. It won’t be as suspicious.
Could he hold out until then? Because as hard as he was trying, it was getting harder and harder to not collapse from the gnawing scrapes that’d reached his stomach.
I’ll do what I can.
Not a ‘yes’. Alex hated when it wasn’t a ‘yes’.
And the drowning Agent, underneath his hands, slowly began to relax.
Eric stopped walking and turned around, hitting Jason with a delighted curve of his mouth from this apparently pleasant interruption. His phone was in his palm and he’d been tapping away at it, but although he took his other hand away and patiently let it rest in his pocket, the phone stayed out and stayed in the picture. If he was working, Jason could... no. No, he couldn’t come back later. This had to be settled now.
... But if Eric was busy...
“Jay-jay! What’s cookin’ in that brain of yours?”
A massive weight fell from his shoulders. Permission to speak. He didn’t have to put this off.
“Sir,” he said, “I feel it’s in the Agency’s best interest to allow me to carry on in this assignment.”
“Oh?”
Jason felt awkward again. That one sound told him more than anything else Eric could’ve said. It’d been polite and happy, but it was sceptical too, and the way the A-1 was waiting for him to keep going was like an impossible challenge to prove himself. If Jason did it, he’d get what he wanted and have that salvage option for his record, but it’d seem as if he’d told Eric – to his face – that he was wrong. If he didn’t do it, Eric would be thrilled, but then Jason... and Stephanie...
“I’d like to be able to do it while remaining in possession of my –” He’d been demoted. “... in possession of the Agency’s suit.” Jason stood with his back tall, trying to will his way to winning this with through posture alone. Considering everything else that seemed to impress the man, it could actually do the trick. “I understand the protocol surrounding your decision, but I’d also like to remind you of my record to this point. I’ve put in several solid years of wearing this and I’ve brought in hundreds of very specific and very tangible accomplishments in almost every Agency division – including the public ones.” He felt like he’d said this a thousand times already. If he had, it was good to know it was consistent when it got replies: Eric, beyond his smile, looked damn bored. Jason sighed. “Sir, I can be here all day trying to convince you –”
“Oh, don’t do that.” Now beyond his smile, Eric looked pained.
Jason went on. He refused to give up.
“You have the authority to ignore protocol at the drop of a hat.” He felt very stupid explaining to the A-1 what the A-1 could do. “You’ve been doing it all day – and all of yesterday!”
“Have I?”
“No.” He paused, long enough to let the flutter of panic in his chest do its work. He meant ‘yes’, obviously, and anyone who’d been following along knew Eric had been more than loose with rules since he’d arrived, but calling attention to it outside of thanking the man wouldn’t do much besides piss him off. A-1s were supposed to enforce procedure, in paper and name if not in practise. In fact, they were supposed to do it more than anyone. “No – you... I...” Crap.
“Jason.” It was Eric’s turn to stand tall. As if he hadn’t already been a behemoth in the Flunky’s skin. “I adore seeing how devoted you are, and your perfect record – it’s – oh, it’s so fascinating –” And a master of sarcasm on top of everything else. Was there anything Eric couldn’t do? “– but I’m little confused about the point you’re trying to make. Are you fighting to stay with this case or are you trying to get your suit?”
“My suit.” That much was obvious. Jason needed it more than he let on, and considering he’d ‘let on’ by breaking into sweats, shaking, collapsing and having a nap on his lead’s lap... “And my case.”
“Ah. Cute.” Jason could feel Eric’s attention waning. “Bit of a gamble, though.”
The man had gone out of his way to ignore half the things going on. True, a lot of it had to do with Eric not really caring, but here they were at Charlton and Jason knew, whether or not its ownership was still up for debate – and there were two answers to that one: Jason’s and reality’s – meant nothing in face of the fact that he was wearing it. The papers hadn’t been processed yet, or if they had, no one had come for his throat about it. He was very much a ‘later rather than sooner’ kind of person. He’d never grasped the concept of ‘getting it over with’ when the chance of getting out of it would lurk behind him, and he took to off-chances like they were written in stone rather than air the way they were supposed to be. Despite that mini-philosophy, which had never failed to serve him well, Jason opened his fat mouth and dimly wondered, “How so?”
“Well... aside from the absolute, glaring, neon-yellow, pedestal-hopping obvious, both those things are mutually exclusive.”
“Are they.” A statement, not a question. “... How so?”
The A-1 slowly closed his eyes and raised his massive fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. Shaking his head, he let out a quiet laugh, the kind a man would normally make when they were amazed past all belief or at the end of their patience and getting ready to murder the thing-that-would-not-shut-up. Jason didn’t blame him for either of those options, but he did have a preference for which one Eric went with.
“Jason.” Still shaking his head. “Jason, Jason, Jason.” He stopped. He put his hand out and clapped it on Jason’s shoulder, a little more roughly than it needed to be even after he factored in the size of it. “I’m gonna make this easy for you – just... really spell it out, so try hard to follow along with what I’m saying, okay?” He waited for an answer. He got a weak nod of the head. He grinned. “Great! So here it is: your suit...” Jason knew what was coming. “... or your case. Pick one. And move over.”
Pardon?
Eric, with the hand on his shoulder, gave him a push towards the wall. It wasn’t rough but it startled him all the same, and he would’ve asked about it if the man hadn’t stepped away as – what the hell was that?
“... Was... that Benoit?”
“Unless you’ve got a dick that can fuck across a building, you’re going completely the wrong way!”
That... shadow had already vanished down the hall and around the corner, but the instant Eric’s voice rang out, Frenchie came back long enough to give the A-1 the fiercest middle finger Jason had ever seen. Then he was gone again.
“... He’s fast.”
Unbelievably fast.
“Yeah – and useless. That’s the French for you.”
“PATTEN.”
Oh geez. Jason and Eric, in that one instant, were more alike than any two people on the planet. They both turned to face the woman click-click-clicking down the hall, but when the awkwardness of having to stare at her settled in, it didn’t take much to realize it was for different reasons. Jason wasn’t sure how to act around a woman with a permanent sneer across her face, and the way she glared down at him – and she did it while being shorter by an inch – as if she blamed him for something he had no idea of knowing about put him more on the spot than he’d ever been or wanted. Eric, meanwhile, looked more stuck on coming up with a polite reason to kill her. When that failed, he stuck out his chin, turned his nose up, pulled the corners of his mouth down – he was mocking her.
“MAD-DEE-LINE.”
And then they just stared, long enough for Jason to forget they could move. Finally, Eric broke the contest with a new and overly sweet smile, one that scrunched up his nose and turned his eyes into friendly, closed half-moons behind his glasses. Madeline scoffed at it and stormed away, flicking her hand as she walked in a way that would’ve gotten a whip to snap if she’d been carrying one. ... Was it invisible or something?
“Is there some history between you two?”
“Not in the traditional sense. Like any reasonable person knows, it’s best to stay away from Agency women. Jason.” Eric laughed. “But seriously, make up your mind. Where is she, anyway?”
“She – uh...” Good question. He’d left her with Gary. ... Aw, shit. He left her with Gary. “She’s... on her way, I’m sure.”
“Uh-huh. Well – you two get to work. Hurry up with the Xander thing – I want it running in twenty minutes. And what’s that guy... who is he?”
It scared him that Jason knew who he was talking about.
“Quin?”
“Yeah – him. Call him, find him, figure out where the hell he is. Honestly – I know Benny’s got a way of doing things, but this is two cases now. Let’s speed it up, children.”
The way Eric was walking towards the lobby set off a burst of insight in Jason’s head.
“Sir? Are you not going to be handling the stasis cell?”
“A-1 stuff.”
And that was that as far as an explanation went. Eric headed down the hall and disappeared around the same corner Benoit had gone by. The hollowness set in soon after. Despite all the tension he’d had to cut through to even make it to standing in front of him, the most he’d gotten was a ‘mutually exclusive’ choice? What sort of choice was that? If he took the suit, he’d be abandoning his assignment, and if he left it behind, he’d pass out a third of the way to Elmira. Talk about a no-win scenario...
“Jason!” Gary. “Look at ‘im standing all proper, like he’s talking to the Queen. Dude – loosen up a little! You’re ruining my story!”
Jason frowned. This wasn’t the time to be relaxed. Still, he realized he might’ve been stiff. He’d gotten into the habit of standing with his arms folded behind him when he had nothing better to do or when he’d finished talking to someone he felt he had to act more formal around. Hey – Benoit did it almost the time when he wasn’t being terrorized by Eric or... his new ‘friend’, so maybe it was the natural Agency way of being polite. That meat it was something to be proud of not, not laughed at by a man who thought ‘the moon is made of cheese’ was only stupid because it would’ve gone stale by now.
... And again: aw, shit.
“What story?”
Gary was ecstatic to go over it again.
“Mardi Gras! You earned all those beads!”
“Gary, can you – just...” Jason managed to do a half wave and get him to detach himself from his lead, from who he’d managed to steal an arm from to link his around it. He waddled over with a slightly bemused grin on his face, completely oblivious – for now – to why he needed a ‘talking to’. “So... exactly how many stories have you gone over?”
“Uh... well – it’s only been – like – five minutes.” That was a reli– “I gave her the highlights instead.”
“‘Highlights’.”
“You and that old guy hitting on the camel, you and that other old guy hitting on the cow, you and yet another old guy hitting on those ducks... The entire week was you getting lost and winding up with some old dude, flirting with some animal after three bottles of tequila.” Gary shrugged. “I dunno. She got a kick out of hearing you drank so I figured I’d run through a few parties. She definitely got the message about tequila.”
“Go stand in the corner.”
At least Gary knew what that meant. His shoulders slumped and he gave a pitiful whine, but he quietly marched to the nearest part of the wall and stood there facing it in silence.
“Always with this stupid corner... It’s not even a corner, it’s a wall...”
The point was to do it without talking. If Jason could, he’d leave him there for the night, but the corner only bought five minutes of silence before the man got bored and wandered off to wreak more havoc.
“Gary is stupid,” was Jason’s explanation. It was true. Forget about him. “Eric isn’t going to oversee the stasis cell’s installation. Benoit is... running around somewhere. He went towards the lobby but I have no idea if he’s still in the area.” Or the building. Or the country, for that matter. “We’re supposed to have the cell in place in twenty minutes.”
It was more than ample time. They just had to go downstairs to the loading bay and meet whatever truck that’d been considered secure enough to make the trip. He could only wonder how they’d packaged the thing; the heavy wires and tubes that’d been stuck in the other four couldn’t have made for an easy delivery, and he wouldn’t be surprised if they’d jammed the whole thing into a cube of metal. That’d make for getting the cell out to install a bit harder, but he trusted the Agency in their work. They never got into anything they couldn’t crawl out of again later.
* * *
“This might be the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. Sparky – get off her, please. You’ve made your point.”
Too. Much. Pain.
‘Agony’ wasn’t even hinting at the searing surge of torment peeling away the nerves around his foot. What scared him more than that was knowing Xander still held off the last bit. Alex wasn’t sure if it was something he wanted to thank him for or tell him to stop doing, because he needed the one who could act to not run out of strength halfway through. But the pain... And Xander pushed at his knee, straightening his leg out of its limp.
“Ow.”
Suck it up.
At least he had the courtesy to squeeze a condolence in there, around the starkly unsaid, ‘Can you try being a man for once?’
“Look at this mess. You’re lucky it’s Saturday or there’d be hell to pay for making us clean it up by morning.” Xander didn’t walk towards the women. He was walking to the other guy, the one bleeding in the near three inches of water. It looked like Agents didn’t half-ass it when it came to fire safety. “Anyway, you’ve failed here. I’m not surprised – most of you are horrible at your jobs – but I did think you were smart enough to avoid getting hit on the head with a pot. This is the last time I have faith in any of you.”
... He wasn’t talking to the female Agent at all. Aside from note to Osono, he’d been chatting to the one who was unconscious, which made no sense because he was the one who wasn’t a threat anymore. Despite that, despite the extra effort he made of wading Alex’s foot through the water, the feeling of it raging through his limb and hanging off every inch of skin it could cling to, Xander kept his eyes on the fallen one. He would’ve liked to ask if he had a plan for dealing with Osono, who’d be just as dangerous if she felt betrayed, but there was a firm hold over Alex’s mouth as it twisted into a friendly smile. That thing creeped him out when he saw it reflected back in the mini-ocean. It really did look like Peter’s. A little out of practise, maybe a bit more sane, but... yeah. Pretty on the money.
“I know, I know – ‘it’s not fair ‘cause no one said it was a test’. Well...” Xander was flipping the man over. The Agent gave an uncomfortable grunt before flopping face-first into the water. “Still hear me? Wonderful! As I was saying, you gotta look at it like this was the Boy Scouts – prepared for anything, as they say. Unfortunately, if you need to grab a few tips from children to remember to do your job – you’re recon, right? – then I gotta say, your involvement in the future of this organization is not lookin’ too bright.”
A thin stream of bubbles was winding up from the water. The Agent was drowning.
“You – uh...” Alex kept his voice very, very quiet. “You have to do it this way?”
It was so... personal.
Peter – Angry wave. – had this thing about keeping bodies ‘intact’. Smothering, drowning, crack-to-the-head-and-hope-for-brain-damage... You remember.
He’d been trying to forget. The Agent started to burble, though, and Xander had not let go of the man’s shoulders. It was almost a perfect image of what they’d dealt with when they’d wandered around with the traitor. He’d been keeping the guy submerged, and when it looked like – through an enduring instinct for survival – that he, in light of his wound, had recovered enough sense to turn his head and escape, Xander turned it back. With his finger – one finger, Alex noted, in that oh-so-adorable way Peter’d been crazy about.
“As for you –” And this time he was talking to the woman. “Not much better. You’re still awake, so – I guess – that’s a point on your end, but I do remember ordering a pack of minions that weren’t dumb enough to stick so close to their victims if they had no intention of getting into a fight. And – I’m sorry, at what point were you actually ordered to engage in such shenanigans? I don’t remember writing that down.” Xander shook his head and tut-tutted. “At any rate, I feel it’d be best to let her decide what to do with you. So what do you think, dear Osono? Take her back to Charlton or fire her ass right now?”
And then he laughed, delighted with his pun.
If we take her to Charlton, we won’t need to ask her about the codes. It won’t be as suspicious.
Could he hold out until then? Because as hard as he was trying, it was getting harder and harder to not collapse from the gnawing scrapes that’d reached his stomach.
I’ll do what I can.
Not a ‘yes’. Alex hated when it wasn’t a ‘yes’.
And the drowning Agent, underneath his hands, slowly began to relax.
Last edited by Tartra on Mon Jul 18, 2011 7:46 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 Mon Nov 29, 2010 7:15 pm
The fire woman was weakening. Brie could feel it through the arm that wrapped around her captive's neck and the rest of her body keeping the Agent pinned on the ground even as she restrained her. Just a little bit more pressure and the woman would pass out and then Brie could--
Oh, the other one was back. She'd almost forgotten completely that he was even here and had assumed when he hadn't come to his friend's rescue that he'd run off or was busy fighting Six. As he came back into the picture however, Brie halted the pressure she was applying, while Ozzie pulled at her arm with her fingers trying to loosen her grip, and she tensed, expecting the man to come to the other's aid now. But he didn't. Following the direction he was going, she finally noticed the body of her colleague a few feet away and internally scoffed that he'd been dispatched so quickly.
Of course. She was glad she hadn't decided to depend on him at all, but now she was stuck doing all the hard work by herself. And this guy was going up to him - was he going to kill Six? She didn't personally care for Six beyond the fact that he was a member of her team, but she wasn't going to allow him to kill off a fellow Agent without a fight. With that thought, she briefly tightened her hold on Osono's neck, getting a choking sound to come from the fire woman before she hesitated again and started actually listening to what he was saying.
This...didn't seem right... The tone he was taking was almost like he thought he was in charge or as if he knew them or something. But that wasn't possible. That wasn't...
Then she caught sight of that smile stretched on his lips and her spine turned into a rod of ice, freezing every muscle stiffly in place. No. No, it couldn't be! She'd only seen the A-1 in charge of her squad a handful of times but she knew that grin anywhere and it chilled her even more to see it on the face of this stranger who was suppose to be the target of this mission. And she also knew enough that he tended to change appearance by switching bodies - she'd never personally seen him do it, but rumors spread through the squad and she'd seen him pointed out with a new face often enough that there was no doubt about what the man could do.
But this didn't make any sense! They'd been sent here on his orders! What was he doing here? Her unasked questions were answered quickly by the next thing he said and her eyes widened a fraction of an inch as a feeling of illness warped her stomach muscles. Barely a blip of emotion passed through her as Six was pushed face-first into the water, instantly knowing that the man was being punished, the only worry going through her head realizing that might be her in a few seconds.
God...a-a- test!? And they'd failed!? All of a sudden, her earlier realization of the immediate mistakes she'd made became all the more real now knowing they'd been under superior surveillance the whole time.
No! No, no, no, no! This didn't make any sense! WHY was he here? Why would he set up this mission just to test them? Try as she might, Brie couldn't stop coming back to everything she'd heard about and seen the man do and watched with sudden horror as Six attempted to struggle only to be corrected with a solitary finger, her eyes instantly focused on the appendage. That was it. She couldn't deny this any longer. She'd fucking screwed up and oh, fucking God, the A-1 was here to personally deal with their team's failure.
A surprised shock ran through Brie when he turned to her, his voice suddenly addressing her directly and instantly, the two women disengaged as she released her captive and sat up in the puddle on the ground.
As soon as Osono was let go, she rolled off of the other woman and sat on hands and knees, a hand going to her neck and coughing slightly as she regained her breath. What was going on? What was Alex talking about? The stuff he was saying... it was almost like he was a part of them...
Then the old paranoia reared it's ugly head and she felt the sudden weight of loss and doubt fill her to think of everything he'd said and done being a lie...just like Rudy... But any anger or fear that came with those thoughts were cut short as he brought her into the reprimand he was giving the female Agent. She sat on her hands and knees, tensely staring at him for just a few seconds - he was acting so differently now, talking like he was in charge of these two people and almost like he knew things about the Agency. Then again, what he'd said did get the Agent to let her go and he was including her as a figure of authority...sort of... It was a game. He was pretending and in those breaths of a second, it all clicked and she no longer doubted him.
Turning to eye the Agent woman, Osono massaged her throat and stood in the water, drawing Brie's attention and making note of the ripple of fear behind the clouded mask the woman wore on her face. Osono said nothing for several moments, a malicious smile spreading on her face as she looked over the woman who'd been busy fighting her for the past 20 minutes. Hm... Did the woman really believe Alex's little act? It was a pretty good job, if she was honest - it was like he was a totally different person and even his voice had changed a bit - so, maybe it worked. There was one way to be sure.
Running a hand through her hair that was sticking to her head with water, the air around her body heated up and crackled with energy, her clothes drying out in mere seconds. Finally, she let out a smooth breath and smiled again at the Agent. "She's proved she's next to useless as an Agent," she said in her raspy voice and turned to Alex, setting her hand alight with a halo of fire. "Let's cook her. It would be the merciful thing to do at this point."
All this time, Brie had been watching the interaction, making note of the subtleties and looking for any logical reason that THIS WAS NOT ACTUALLY HAPPENING. But everything, even the way the woman acted towards the "supposed" A-1 had Brie second guessing herself. When the fire made an appearance her muscles imperceptibly tensed as she sat crouched in the water on the floor. So...the woman wasn't a target but actually with him? This...this wasn't right...
Then again, it occurred to Brie that the A-1 himself was said to possess powers and was able to hop between the bodies of dead people - which she also realized that Six was quickly becoming, but couldn't force herself to care beyond the promised threat it presented to herself - so, another Agent with powers was not completely improbable. Also, with the goals the Agency had with higher level "transfer" Agents and case Leaders, it was basically to turn these super-powered freaks into Agency personnel.
But several minutes ago, this woman had been freaking out and arguing with this man, to the point where she'd set the sprinklers off. ...Then again...this had been a "test" at that point and she could see the usefulness of using the water to pinpoint her hidden location while she'd been in stealth mode - at least as a plausible ruse.
Alright... it looked like the woman was serious and it was definitely time to stop debating with herself about this. The longer she went without explaining things, the more likely it seemed that Patten really was going to let the fire woman burn her to a crisp. Having reached her decision, she stood up stiffly in the water and turned to the A-1 stiffly, her head held high and her arms held rigid at her sides.
"Permission to speak, sir," she said in a deferential voice, her tone clipped and serious.
The way he looked at her, it appeared it was somewhat expected that she give some sort of report or explanation. For a moment, she hesitated again, pausing to look him over, her brows twitching in suspicion. She couldn't help but be struck again by how surreal this whole thing was, but the need to obey her superiors overrode all of her doubts - it had to be Patten... the things he was doing and that sunny grin and absolute disregard for the lives of those under him... there were just too many things that rang true for the man in charge of her unit. Although she'd never personally engaged the A-1 in conversation before, from the few times she'd caught glimpses of him and seen him interact with others, this man before her fit too perfectly. And from what she'd heard, the man was sadistic and a stickler for the best of the best on his team even going so far as to install a monitoring system on the unit's superficial thoughts and emotions. Several men she knew had been blasted with what could only be described as a "taser to the brain" for merely glancing at her ass. It wasn't too far-fetched to assume he'd pull something like this just to get rid of any weaknesses in his elite units.
Alright, now to come up with something to explain what had gone wrong. She remembered what had happened - Six had entered the building ahead of her and they had trailed a few hallways behind the fire woman while she'd stalked through the building. Then they'd gotten alerts in their masks of the second target coming up behind them and had moved forward so as not to lose sight of either of them. Six had slipped ahead while the woman had been distracted to help cage them in and she'd been stuck in between. And then things had gone wrong from there... There was a very simple way out of this.
"I was following Agent Six's lead, sir," she said, pointing rigidly at the drowning man - he was almost certainly dead by now and wouldn't be able to defend himself. "It was in my best interest at the time not to argue and the situation got quickly out of hand." She glanced at Osono again, mostly eying the flames on her hand before looking back at the A-1. "Upon my discovery by the alleged 'target' I ascertained that she was enough of a physical threat to warrant an attack. My intent was to merely subdue her and...regroup with Six at base."
She stumbled slightly to realize how stupid that sounded. She did feel very threatened by the woman who wielded fire like it was a part of her and at the time she'd attacked her...she hadn't really had a plan except "attack first". Then while fighting, she'd gotten lost in just trying not to get killed. Which was dumb. It was true. She hadn't been given orders to engage the targets at all; she was merely here to observe and she'd not only blown that, but she'd done the opposite of what she should have in this situation.
But apparently, the fire woman seemed pleased by this and shook her head in an undecided and thoughtful fashion, pressing her lips together in consideration. Finally, the fire disappeared and her hand went to rest on her hip as she turned to Alex.
"That was some really stupid bullshit," she said nodding her head in a sardonic manner - she might be getting the hang of this "Agent" thing, at least enough to get by. "But I can understand the need for immediate action that I forced her into - which was my intent." Yeah, see? She knew the game. "I think a low grade will be harder on her than a quick death. Charlton it is." There, that was her final verdict, since it was more than clear little miss Agent had fallen for Alex's "Agent in charge" act. Suck it, Agent bitch; you just got owned!
Brie's gaze narrowed once more as the woman detailed her final decision which was apparently to grant her mercy...? This wasn't right... Not that she was ungrateful, but the things Brie had said did not seem grounds to grant leniency or even all that convincing to the woman hell-bent on setting her on fire. The burn on her leg itched a little but she ignored it as she mulled the decision over, trying to find a reason why these red flags were illogical. It would have helped if Six was still conscious or even alive, because then she could have gotten a second opinion about everything. She was alone and she had to figure this out on her own.
But all she could really come up with was that this didn't feel right. Looking back at the man however, had the effect of erasing some of those doubts. He was here now and this was really happening. Who cared if the fire woman was in a forgiving mood - for whatever ungodly reason she couldn't even begin to understand, but was thankful for, nonetheless. All that mattered was Patten and what he ultimately thought. He was the man in charge, afterall... and if rumor was to be believed, mercy from him was like getting shat upon by a giant from myth and legend - you didn't care, just glad that you were alive.
Finally, the two of them reached a bend in the hallway and Stephanie's giggles quieted as her sights were once again filled with Jason. The way he stood there...so relaxed yet dignified, exuding confidence from every pore... And the posture itself was the way she'd seen other Agency men stand as a default "at rest" position that they used when standing around not doing anything. On Jason, however, it put her in mind of a general or a soldier, standing at ease and yet tense and battle ready. Thinking of him in such violent and dutiful terms got her hot all over again and a blush dusted her cheeks as she drew nearer.
Puppy was called from her side then and she reluctantly let him go - her little gold mine full of cute Jason stories; she'd corner him again some time and get him to spill EVERYTHING eventually - and stood patiently watching as the two conferred privately for a brief moment. Apparently, Jason was disappointed with the subordinate and the chubby man left him to stand at the wall as if disciplined. Under normal circumstances, it would appear to be a small thing - one subordinate issuing orders to another that were obeyed with little to no argument. But the whole display had a bigger impact on Stephanie, especially since she'd just spent several very laid-back minutes with the Puppy.
Jason enforcing his authority over anyone was an incredible thing to see - the slight reprimanding stance he took; the very flippant nod towards the wall as if the order was so beneath him, he couldn't be bothered to think about it for a second longer and he fully expected it to be obeyed without question; the ripple of harshness and disappointment through his body and in his eyes. It all seemed so loud to her and for a few seconds as the Puppy was banished from their presence, she felt a little breathless and stared openly at Jason, drinking in the sight of him... so commanding... so...domineering... She held back a moan by biting her bottom lip.
Then it was her turn to be addressed by him and being within his gaze again made her feel like she was back in that room with him...or back in the plane bathroom...being held in place by his firm grip, smelling him, pressing into him... Quickly, she snapped out of it enough to hear what he was saying and she felt a little saddened that he seemed to act like nothing had happened. In the back of her mind, she realized he was focusing on the correct things right now - just as she should be - but there was that part of her that couldn't let it go. He was just too beautiful and warm and real and..very within her reach. And to top it all off, she wanted him to discipline her like that, to take that towering stance over her and order her, scowling, to stand at a wall because she'd done something naughty.
Even though his attention was elsewhere, she felt that urge to push his buttons and get him distracted enough that he might yell at her again. Just to savor that moment of bliss from being the object of his reprimand. So, that was the first thing she did, was put her hands on him. He still had his hands clasped neatly behind his back, so her first impulse to grab his ass was thwarted by his arms being in the way. Instead, her hand slithered up his right shoulder to drape her arm around his neck, pressing her body close on his right side and playfully drawing circles with her fingernails in his chest through the suit - she would find a way to get it off of him somehow and then there'd be some real damage for his skin.
"Nonsense," she purred, looking coyly down at his chest as her fingernails dug into him, scratching through the thick fabric. "The Pup was very informative and kept me highly entertained. I greatly enjoyed hearing about the you 'outside of the suit'. It helped me remember there's a man of flesh and blood inside here." The last was accompanied by her left leg inserting itself between his, enticingly stroking upwards with her knee as she brought her bright green and fire-filled gaze to meet his eyes.
"There's something I'd like to address about our...conversation, earlier," she said with a small smile at her hesitation over the word. Yes, "conversation" was what she was going to call that. "What really stuck out for me was I very clearly remember you promising to get nude." She'd heard it! "And I cannot help feel disappointed that we've been apart about 10 minutes and you're still clothed." The hand draped around his shoulders played with the curls at the nape of his neck, while her other hand continued to try and leave raised welts, scratches and designs on the skin underneath the suit. Other than a small imperceptible tensing in his muscles, he was not budging and she immediately realized he was very fixated on their orders at hand.
With a begrudging sigh, she ran a hand through her hair, stroking his inner thigh with her leg and said, "20 minutes? It would take no time at all for me to lick your skin from head to toe. I could do it in 5 minutes." Nothing. He wasn't biting. She'd have to get him drunk after all.
Another sigh and she glared while stabbing him in the chest with a finger repeatedly as she spoke. "Very well! But I'm your boss, Jason and I demand that you stop teasing me! It's simply not nice at all and you're deeply frustrating my desire to get into your pants - which for some spiteful reason don't seem to want to come off!" She grabbed as much of his form-fitting suit as she could just at his neck and pulled him close so she whispered inches from his face, glaring into his eyes. "I have needs."
Fine. If he wasn't going to play or even get upset with her, then she'd just save that game for later and concentrate on the orders they'd both been given for now. Stepping at least a foot away from him, she let out an annoyed breath, running another hand through her stringy, blonde hair.
"Benoit is useless," she finally said, regaining a semblance of composure, despite the very obvious irritation rippling under the surface. "The last I saw of Madeline, she was on the hunt and I doubt she will allow him to remain involved if she can easily pass the duty onto us. So, it's best not to depend on him. If he shows up, all the better. If not... he's not necessary. It's not something I've done before, but it shouldn't be too complicated to get it done in what's left of our 20 minutes." She was most certainly pouting about not getting her way, but at least she was making an effort to "work" now.
Turning fluidly from him, she began to walk down the hallway in the same direction she'd been going with the Puppy, her hips swaying enticingly, fully expecting Jason to follow her, but not bothering to look back. Eventually, they made their way downstairs to the lobby, Stephanie keeping her distance and murmuring angrily to herself. By the time the front doors leading to the street became visible, she instantly forgot about Jason and her sexual frustrations when she caught sight of the "delivery man" standing about the front doors. Outside was a very large truck parked at the curb, so long that out the front door windows it stretched out of sight while filling the view massively.
Stephanie approached the young man in his mid twenties, a tooth pick held between his lips, wearing a very casual T-shirt and jeans with a gray, loose over shirt with "Todd" scrawled in cursive on his right breast and Agency issue sunglasses obscuring his eyes. As she came to stand before him, he removed his glasses respectfully and tucked them away, revealing a long angular face and heavy eyebrows bordering very dark and semi-paranoid eyes.
"You in chahge?" he asked, removing from his belt a small mechanical box with a key pad and screen on it. He held it up for her without a word and she put in her Agency code before taking up the small plastic tipped "pen" and placing her signature on the tiny screen - which was a lot less "xeroxed" than the way she'd signed her name on the forms Master had given her last night. He pulled it back from her and took a look at the screen, while scratching at the side of his nose thoughtfully.
"Oh," he said in pleasant surprise, his bushy eyebrows bouncing in shock as he read what came up on the screen. Then he punched in a few numbers and replaced the box at his belt. "Alright, Miss Mahch. I'll drive it around back and staht unloadin' it, then. We've got equipment in the back foh luggin' it around, so I'll put it whereveh ya want it." There was a slight Boston flare to his words but it was very subtle, she noticed.
"Yes, please do," she said stonily. "I'll let you know where it goes as soon as you remove it from the truck." He nodded in an easy-going manner. "Oh, and Todd," he stopped turning away from her and looked at her expectantly. "I expect you to go as quickly as possible." He kind of scrunched his eyebrows down for a moment and looked around without moving his head as if slightly confused and disturbed by the order, but gave another curt nod and left out the front doors.
Turning, she glared openly at Jason, while at the same time managing to look extremely hungry as she undressed him with her eyes, and turned away from him with a huff, stalking towards the back of the building. He's still clothed! Hmph!
Oh, the other one was back. She'd almost forgotten completely that he was even here and had assumed when he hadn't come to his friend's rescue that he'd run off or was busy fighting Six. As he came back into the picture however, Brie halted the pressure she was applying, while Ozzie pulled at her arm with her fingers trying to loosen her grip, and she tensed, expecting the man to come to the other's aid now. But he didn't. Following the direction he was going, she finally noticed the body of her colleague a few feet away and internally scoffed that he'd been dispatched so quickly.
Of course. She was glad she hadn't decided to depend on him at all, but now she was stuck doing all the hard work by herself. And this guy was going up to him - was he going to kill Six? She didn't personally care for Six beyond the fact that he was a member of her team, but she wasn't going to allow him to kill off a fellow Agent without a fight. With that thought, she briefly tightened her hold on Osono's neck, getting a choking sound to come from the fire woman before she hesitated again and started actually listening to what he was saying.
This...didn't seem right... The tone he was taking was almost like he thought he was in charge or as if he knew them or something. But that wasn't possible. That wasn't...
Then she caught sight of that smile stretched on his lips and her spine turned into a rod of ice, freezing every muscle stiffly in place. No. No, it couldn't be! She'd only seen the A-1 in charge of her squad a handful of times but she knew that grin anywhere and it chilled her even more to see it on the face of this stranger who was suppose to be the target of this mission. And she also knew enough that he tended to change appearance by switching bodies - she'd never personally seen him do it, but rumors spread through the squad and she'd seen him pointed out with a new face often enough that there was no doubt about what the man could do.
But this didn't make any sense! They'd been sent here on his orders! What was he doing here? Her unasked questions were answered quickly by the next thing he said and her eyes widened a fraction of an inch as a feeling of illness warped her stomach muscles. Barely a blip of emotion passed through her as Six was pushed face-first into the water, instantly knowing that the man was being punished, the only worry going through her head realizing that might be her in a few seconds.
God...a-a- test!? And they'd failed!? All of a sudden, her earlier realization of the immediate mistakes she'd made became all the more real now knowing they'd been under superior surveillance the whole time.
No! No, no, no, no! This didn't make any sense! WHY was he here? Why would he set up this mission just to test them? Try as she might, Brie couldn't stop coming back to everything she'd heard about and seen the man do and watched with sudden horror as Six attempted to struggle only to be corrected with a solitary finger, her eyes instantly focused on the appendage. That was it. She couldn't deny this any longer. She'd fucking screwed up and oh, fucking God, the A-1 was here to personally deal with their team's failure.
A surprised shock ran through Brie when he turned to her, his voice suddenly addressing her directly and instantly, the two women disengaged as she released her captive and sat up in the puddle on the ground.
As soon as Osono was let go, she rolled off of the other woman and sat on hands and knees, a hand going to her neck and coughing slightly as she regained her breath. What was going on? What was Alex talking about? The stuff he was saying... it was almost like he was a part of them...
Then the old paranoia reared it's ugly head and she felt the sudden weight of loss and doubt fill her to think of everything he'd said and done being a lie...just like Rudy... But any anger or fear that came with those thoughts were cut short as he brought her into the reprimand he was giving the female Agent. She sat on her hands and knees, tensely staring at him for just a few seconds - he was acting so differently now, talking like he was in charge of these two people and almost like he knew things about the Agency. Then again, what he'd said did get the Agent to let her go and he was including her as a figure of authority...sort of... It was a game. He was pretending and in those breaths of a second, it all clicked and she no longer doubted him.
Turning to eye the Agent woman, Osono massaged her throat and stood in the water, drawing Brie's attention and making note of the ripple of fear behind the clouded mask the woman wore on her face. Osono said nothing for several moments, a malicious smile spreading on her face as she looked over the woman who'd been busy fighting her for the past 20 minutes. Hm... Did the woman really believe Alex's little act? It was a pretty good job, if she was honest - it was like he was a totally different person and even his voice had changed a bit - so, maybe it worked. There was one way to be sure.
Running a hand through her hair that was sticking to her head with water, the air around her body heated up and crackled with energy, her clothes drying out in mere seconds. Finally, she let out a smooth breath and smiled again at the Agent. "She's proved she's next to useless as an Agent," she said in her raspy voice and turned to Alex, setting her hand alight with a halo of fire. "Let's cook her. It would be the merciful thing to do at this point."
All this time, Brie had been watching the interaction, making note of the subtleties and looking for any logical reason that THIS WAS NOT ACTUALLY HAPPENING. But everything, even the way the woman acted towards the "supposed" A-1 had Brie second guessing herself. When the fire made an appearance her muscles imperceptibly tensed as she sat crouched in the water on the floor. So...the woman wasn't a target but actually with him? This...this wasn't right...
Then again, it occurred to Brie that the A-1 himself was said to possess powers and was able to hop between the bodies of dead people - which she also realized that Six was quickly becoming, but couldn't force herself to care beyond the promised threat it presented to herself - so, another Agent with powers was not completely improbable. Also, with the goals the Agency had with higher level "transfer" Agents and case Leaders, it was basically to turn these super-powered freaks into Agency personnel.
But several minutes ago, this woman had been freaking out and arguing with this man, to the point where she'd set the sprinklers off. ...Then again...this had been a "test" at that point and she could see the usefulness of using the water to pinpoint her hidden location while she'd been in stealth mode - at least as a plausible ruse.
Alright... it looked like the woman was serious and it was definitely time to stop debating with herself about this. The longer she went without explaining things, the more likely it seemed that Patten really was going to let the fire woman burn her to a crisp. Having reached her decision, she stood up stiffly in the water and turned to the A-1 stiffly, her head held high and her arms held rigid at her sides.
"Permission to speak, sir," she said in a deferential voice, her tone clipped and serious.
The way he looked at her, it appeared it was somewhat expected that she give some sort of report or explanation. For a moment, she hesitated again, pausing to look him over, her brows twitching in suspicion. She couldn't help but be struck again by how surreal this whole thing was, but the need to obey her superiors overrode all of her doubts - it had to be Patten... the things he was doing and that sunny grin and absolute disregard for the lives of those under him... there were just too many things that rang true for the man in charge of her unit. Although she'd never personally engaged the A-1 in conversation before, from the few times she'd caught glimpses of him and seen him interact with others, this man before her fit too perfectly. And from what she'd heard, the man was sadistic and a stickler for the best of the best on his team even going so far as to install a monitoring system on the unit's superficial thoughts and emotions. Several men she knew had been blasted with what could only be described as a "taser to the brain" for merely glancing at her ass. It wasn't too far-fetched to assume he'd pull something like this just to get rid of any weaknesses in his elite units.
Alright, now to come up with something to explain what had gone wrong. She remembered what had happened - Six had entered the building ahead of her and they had trailed a few hallways behind the fire woman while she'd stalked through the building. Then they'd gotten alerts in their masks of the second target coming up behind them and had moved forward so as not to lose sight of either of them. Six had slipped ahead while the woman had been distracted to help cage them in and she'd been stuck in between. And then things had gone wrong from there... There was a very simple way out of this.
"I was following Agent Six's lead, sir," she said, pointing rigidly at the drowning man - he was almost certainly dead by now and wouldn't be able to defend himself. "It was in my best interest at the time not to argue and the situation got quickly out of hand." She glanced at Osono again, mostly eying the flames on her hand before looking back at the A-1. "Upon my discovery by the alleged 'target' I ascertained that she was enough of a physical threat to warrant an attack. My intent was to merely subdue her and...regroup with Six at base."
She stumbled slightly to realize how stupid that sounded. She did feel very threatened by the woman who wielded fire like it was a part of her and at the time she'd attacked her...she hadn't really had a plan except "attack first". Then while fighting, she'd gotten lost in just trying not to get killed. Which was dumb. It was true. She hadn't been given orders to engage the targets at all; she was merely here to observe and she'd not only blown that, but she'd done the opposite of what she should have in this situation.
But apparently, the fire woman seemed pleased by this and shook her head in an undecided and thoughtful fashion, pressing her lips together in consideration. Finally, the fire disappeared and her hand went to rest on her hip as she turned to Alex.
"That was some really stupid bullshit," she said nodding her head in a sardonic manner - she might be getting the hang of this "Agent" thing, at least enough to get by. "But I can understand the need for immediate action that I forced her into - which was my intent." Yeah, see? She knew the game. "I think a low grade will be harder on her than a quick death. Charlton it is." There, that was her final verdict, since it was more than clear little miss Agent had fallen for Alex's "Agent in charge" act. Suck it, Agent bitch; you just got owned!
Brie's gaze narrowed once more as the woman detailed her final decision which was apparently to grant her mercy...? This wasn't right... Not that she was ungrateful, but the things Brie had said did not seem grounds to grant leniency or even all that convincing to the woman hell-bent on setting her on fire. The burn on her leg itched a little but she ignored it as she mulled the decision over, trying to find a reason why these red flags were illogical. It would have helped if Six was still conscious or even alive, because then she could have gotten a second opinion about everything. She was alone and she had to figure this out on her own.
But all she could really come up with was that this didn't feel right. Looking back at the man however, had the effect of erasing some of those doubts. He was here now and this was really happening. Who cared if the fire woman was in a forgiving mood - for whatever ungodly reason she couldn't even begin to understand, but was thankful for, nonetheless. All that mattered was Patten and what he ultimately thought. He was the man in charge, afterall... and if rumor was to be believed, mercy from him was like getting shat upon by a giant from myth and legend - you didn't care, just glad that you were alive.
***
The gushing continued as the Puppy went on with his little stories, eventually slipping his hand from hers to link elbows with her instead - which Stephanie barely noticed at all as she giggled over every new image he put into her head. Goodness! Apparently, Jason was quite the party animal and loosened up incredibly when offered the right kind of drink - Tequila it seemed was the right button to push, which she added in place of "something alcoholic" on her mental shopping list - enough that he had trouble deciphering the difference between species when making come-on advances. Maybe she could get him drunk enough that he'd forget she was his boss and he'd flirt with her, and possibly even sing her a pretty song as well...Finally, the two of them reached a bend in the hallway and Stephanie's giggles quieted as her sights were once again filled with Jason. The way he stood there...so relaxed yet dignified, exuding confidence from every pore... And the posture itself was the way she'd seen other Agency men stand as a default "at rest" position that they used when standing around not doing anything. On Jason, however, it put her in mind of a general or a soldier, standing at ease and yet tense and battle ready. Thinking of him in such violent and dutiful terms got her hot all over again and a blush dusted her cheeks as she drew nearer.
Puppy was called from her side then and she reluctantly let him go - her little gold mine full of cute Jason stories; she'd corner him again some time and get him to spill EVERYTHING eventually - and stood patiently watching as the two conferred privately for a brief moment. Apparently, Jason was disappointed with the subordinate and the chubby man left him to stand at the wall as if disciplined. Under normal circumstances, it would appear to be a small thing - one subordinate issuing orders to another that were obeyed with little to no argument. But the whole display had a bigger impact on Stephanie, especially since she'd just spent several very laid-back minutes with the Puppy.
Jason enforcing his authority over anyone was an incredible thing to see - the slight reprimanding stance he took; the very flippant nod towards the wall as if the order was so beneath him, he couldn't be bothered to think about it for a second longer and he fully expected it to be obeyed without question; the ripple of harshness and disappointment through his body and in his eyes. It all seemed so loud to her and for a few seconds as the Puppy was banished from their presence, she felt a little breathless and stared openly at Jason, drinking in the sight of him... so commanding... so...domineering... She held back a moan by biting her bottom lip.
Then it was her turn to be addressed by him and being within his gaze again made her feel like she was back in that room with him...or back in the plane bathroom...being held in place by his firm grip, smelling him, pressing into him... Quickly, she snapped out of it enough to hear what he was saying and she felt a little saddened that he seemed to act like nothing had happened. In the back of her mind, she realized he was focusing on the correct things right now - just as she should be - but there was that part of her that couldn't let it go. He was just too beautiful and warm and real and..very within her reach. And to top it all off, she wanted him to discipline her like that, to take that towering stance over her and order her, scowling, to stand at a wall because she'd done something naughty.
Even though his attention was elsewhere, she felt that urge to push his buttons and get him distracted enough that he might yell at her again. Just to savor that moment of bliss from being the object of his reprimand. So, that was the first thing she did, was put her hands on him. He still had his hands clasped neatly behind his back, so her first impulse to grab his ass was thwarted by his arms being in the way. Instead, her hand slithered up his right shoulder to drape her arm around his neck, pressing her body close on his right side and playfully drawing circles with her fingernails in his chest through the suit - she would find a way to get it off of him somehow and then there'd be some real damage for his skin.
"Nonsense," she purred, looking coyly down at his chest as her fingernails dug into him, scratching through the thick fabric. "The Pup was very informative and kept me highly entertained. I greatly enjoyed hearing about the you 'outside of the suit'. It helped me remember there's a man of flesh and blood inside here." The last was accompanied by her left leg inserting itself between his, enticingly stroking upwards with her knee as she brought her bright green and fire-filled gaze to meet his eyes.
"There's something I'd like to address about our...conversation, earlier," she said with a small smile at her hesitation over the word. Yes, "conversation" was what she was going to call that. "What really stuck out for me was I very clearly remember you promising to get nude." She'd heard it! "And I cannot help feel disappointed that we've been apart about 10 minutes and you're still clothed." The hand draped around his shoulders played with the curls at the nape of his neck, while her other hand continued to try and leave raised welts, scratches and designs on the skin underneath the suit. Other than a small imperceptible tensing in his muscles, he was not budging and she immediately realized he was very fixated on their orders at hand.
With a begrudging sigh, she ran a hand through her hair, stroking his inner thigh with her leg and said, "20 minutes? It would take no time at all for me to lick your skin from head to toe. I could do it in 5 minutes." Nothing. He wasn't biting. She'd have to get him drunk after all.
Another sigh and she glared while stabbing him in the chest with a finger repeatedly as she spoke. "Very well! But I'm your boss, Jason and I demand that you stop teasing me! It's simply not nice at all and you're deeply frustrating my desire to get into your pants - which for some spiteful reason don't seem to want to come off!" She grabbed as much of his form-fitting suit as she could just at his neck and pulled him close so she whispered inches from his face, glaring into his eyes. "I have needs."
Fine. If he wasn't going to play or even get upset with her, then she'd just save that game for later and concentrate on the orders they'd both been given for now. Stepping at least a foot away from him, she let out an annoyed breath, running another hand through her stringy, blonde hair.
"Benoit is useless," she finally said, regaining a semblance of composure, despite the very obvious irritation rippling under the surface. "The last I saw of Madeline, she was on the hunt and I doubt she will allow him to remain involved if she can easily pass the duty onto us. So, it's best not to depend on him. If he shows up, all the better. If not... he's not necessary. It's not something I've done before, but it shouldn't be too complicated to get it done in what's left of our 20 minutes." She was most certainly pouting about not getting her way, but at least she was making an effort to "work" now.
Turning fluidly from him, she began to walk down the hallway in the same direction she'd been going with the Puppy, her hips swaying enticingly, fully expecting Jason to follow her, but not bothering to look back. Eventually, they made their way downstairs to the lobby, Stephanie keeping her distance and murmuring angrily to herself. By the time the front doors leading to the street became visible, she instantly forgot about Jason and her sexual frustrations when she caught sight of the "delivery man" standing about the front doors. Outside was a very large truck parked at the curb, so long that out the front door windows it stretched out of sight while filling the view massively.
Stephanie approached the young man in his mid twenties, a tooth pick held between his lips, wearing a very casual T-shirt and jeans with a gray, loose over shirt with "Todd" scrawled in cursive on his right breast and Agency issue sunglasses obscuring his eyes. As she came to stand before him, he removed his glasses respectfully and tucked them away, revealing a long angular face and heavy eyebrows bordering very dark and semi-paranoid eyes.
"You in chahge?" he asked, removing from his belt a small mechanical box with a key pad and screen on it. He held it up for her without a word and she put in her Agency code before taking up the small plastic tipped "pen" and placing her signature on the tiny screen - which was a lot less "xeroxed" than the way she'd signed her name on the forms Master had given her last night. He pulled it back from her and took a look at the screen, while scratching at the side of his nose thoughtfully.
"Oh," he said in pleasant surprise, his bushy eyebrows bouncing in shock as he read what came up on the screen. Then he punched in a few numbers and replaced the box at his belt. "Alright, Miss Mahch. I'll drive it around back and staht unloadin' it, then. We've got equipment in the back foh luggin' it around, so I'll put it whereveh ya want it." There was a slight Boston flare to his words but it was very subtle, she noticed.
"Yes, please do," she said stonily. "I'll let you know where it goes as soon as you remove it from the truck." He nodded in an easy-going manner. "Oh, and Todd," he stopped turning away from her and looked at her expectantly. "I expect you to go as quickly as possible." He kind of scrunched his eyebrows down for a moment and looked around without moving his head as if slightly confused and disturbed by the order, but gave another curt nod and left out the front doors.
Turning, she glared openly at Jason, while at the same time managing to look extremely hungry as she undressed him with her eyes, and turned away from him with a huff, stalking towards the back of the building. He's still clothed! Hmph!
Last edited by TimeOfTheEye on Mon Feb 21, 2011 3:08 pm; edited 1 time in total
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Mon Dec 06, 2010 7:52 am
This was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid. One tiny moment of pure crazy, and now it looked like the floodgates had opened. As if he should have expected anything less. This was what happened when Jason stopped thinking for half a minute: his lead spent damn near an hour sliding over him, having significantly more fun messing with his mind than any person had ever had a right to, and he had to stand there and say nothing because his retarded luck would make anything he said three times as bad. If he stayed still and kept quiet, though, she’d get bored and leave him. ... Or was that bears? Pumas were the ones you had to scream at – he knew that much – but whatever. It worked. She’d stopped.
“Right behind you, boss.” There would be no getting naked while he was conscious. “I just need a second.”
And a second was all he had. His lead was getting away.
“Dude.” Gary was still facing the wall and his voice was muffled by it. “I couldn’t see a thing that happened, but it sounded super hot.”
“Don’t make me tell Diana,” Jason muttered. “You remember what I said? About keeping this to yourself?”
“My lips are sealed, bro!”
“Until you find a pork roast.” And before he could take off to find one – that was no exaggeration; Gary had immediately started looking for a kitchen – Jason stopped him and said, “Stay here. Please. I don’t need you running around, too.”
“I can’t watch the box thing?”
The ‘box thing’ would be joining the other four in that room. How they were going to get it up here was beyond him, but he hoped it didn’t involve manual labour. The Agency was more than advanced enough to manage some kind of system, but it was right up their alley to have a score of A-9s cart the thing up on their backs. Whatever built character, they said, and it was fantastic cardio.
He’d pass.
“No. Wait here.”
“But –”
He caught up in record time – before she’d even left the stairs – and he dutifully waited at her side, minus the distance he’d put between them that his sanity demanded he keep in place, while she handled the signing off. She’d been right before: where was Benoit? With the way he went on and on about how great Alexander – both of them – was, Jason had assumed he’d’ve been around to throw a fit over who’d been in charge of driving the truck. Then again, the Agency wasn’t known to make mistakes when it signing personnel. Maybe he was the Eric of the delivery division and he only seemed incompetent. Jason supposed it didn’t matter so long as the cell was here in one piece. Speaking of which, it was about time they got a look at the damn thing.
... His lead was glaring. Of course. And he almost made the mistake of trying to say something to break the heated silence, but she took off towards the elevators without a word. Well, on the bright side, at least she wasn’t making this ‘awkward’. This was obviously and clearly all in his head, and he wasn’t going to push it. If she wanted to keep quiet and try to wait an answer out of him, he was all for her trying, because patience was his greatest strength and his added motivation of never wanting to speak of their ‘conversation’ again, at this rate, he’d be happily taking it to his grave. The ball was in her court but he wasn’t playing so... there. He’d ignore her. He’d ignore it. He was almost delighted they had the delivery to deal with because it’d give them something different to think about until he could get her to drop it entirely.
The elevator ride down was very quiet. It was longer too, but that was because they were going deeper than the parking lot. Thanks to the Agency and their unique packages, they couldn’t afford a passer-by to peek into their garage and see what the good people of their Charlton base were up to. It wasn’t so much farther but it was certainly out of prying eyes. Unfortunately, it was exactly as red as the rest of the dying office.
The loading bay was as bare save for the few scattered columns left to hold the ceiling up. As they walked into the orange glow, which felt colder than it should have this time of year, they heard the faint rumble of an engine overhead. The sound was having a field day with all this space to roam in; it bounced and echoed and carried through the floor, and as it got louder and they saw the truck’s headlights rolling down the ramp on the far side, Jason’s eyes went to work on the smaller details and picked out the cloud of smoke not far from where they were. An ally. Finally. He had no idea what was going on with Frenchie and that A-2, but if Eric was happy with it, how pleasant could it have been? There was someone to sympathize with what he was going through instead of laughing like he’d been on the plane.
Maybe he shouldn’t have rushed to join him, but his lead was plenty offended with his not-naked as it was.
“We didn’t think you’d be here,” Jason said.
“This is my case.” And a very neutral breath added still more smoke to the pile. “Miss Agent, I take it you signed the forms. My thanks. It saves me a trip.”
The floor had been marked, he realized. There were different coloured squares – large ones – in the different corners. The one the truck had pulled to seemed green, although it was hard to tell in this light, and it was closer to the centre of the room than any of the others. It drove across but stopped its back wheels on its far edge, then slowly unfurled a ramp in the middle of the maybe-green shape. It took its time, as if it was somehow afraid of hurting the cement, and nothing else happened until three others hopped out of the back and stood around doing delivery things.
“How long is this going to take to set up?”
“It varies. Alexander-the-guest was kept in an older model. It works as fine as any other, but I imagine the size will add to the time.” He didn’t look concerned by it. “We have hours before they arrive.”
“Eric wants it done in twenty minutes,” Jason said. “He mentioned it five minutes ago.” Nine, actually, but who was counting?
“What Eric wants and what we can do rarely ever agree. He can wait. Or he can handle this himself.”
There was a heavy clatter. One of the delivery men said something Jason missed. This was immediately followed by a heavier clatter and a long, metallic whining. The door to the truck’s trailer had begun to rise at last, revealing another wall of metal behind it. That second wall was what began to move. Very slowly, it inched from its makeshift shelter, the top of the trailer splitting open to give it room to turn down and follow the ramp into the square. The delivery men stood watching as if their sheer willpower was what was helping it along. Instead, it was gravity, and a third, jarring, heart-pumping clank rang out as the metal box tilted down and slammed against the ramp. Its weight drove the edge into the ground and gouged it, but whatever gears had been moving the container held it firmly in their grip and went on easing the box gently into place.
Once again, Benoit should’ve been doing something about the care his cargo was getting. Jason didn’t know a lot about the transport of these things, but he was fairly sure it was supposed to be better than this. Instead, Frenchie was smirking into his cigarette, enjoying the little show.
“Shouldn’t you say something?”
“Like what?”
“Like...” Jason drew a blank. “What if they break it?”
“Break steel? By dropping it half a foot? Have some faith in your Agency’s technology.” He was still smirking. “So long as the cell is intact, I don’t care what they do with it.” This was the man who’d gotten touchy when Jason had implied Alexander was less than godlike. Now he was content to let that Agent’s original body get thrown around? “He’ll survive, but I doubt it matters in the end. My plan is to catch them while the reverse-transfer is underway, not after.”
There were a lot of questions about how that’d work or how the real Alexander would fare if it was interrupted, but Jason decided to focus on the part a tiny bit more relevant: “What happens after that? To the body?”
“I don’t care. Maybe I’ll kill him and give Eric a new soul to haunt.”
Everyone hated everyone – except for his lead, who exercised a very healthy obsession in screwing with Jason.
“I’m guessing you haven’t forgiven him for sabotaging you,” he said.
“There is that. But mostly, he’s a selfish prick.” Another clank. What the hell was going on over there? “Even his name spells ‘me’.”
Mystery solved. He’d been right, back in Elmira. There was no one else who smiled that proudly after killing somebody.
“So it’s Marshall Elias? Inside the real Alexander?” Frenchie’s silence said ‘yes’. “Ah. Well – that explains why it’s taken six years.”
“Mm.”
Jason was pretty glad none of this called for getting their old colleague back on his feet. He’d had his fill of that man back in training. He didn’t need a reunion.
And still another clank. This time, the gears groaned loudly and the metal box stuttered on the ramp. Before it looked as though it’d pull away and smash into the floor, however, they caught a hold of themselves and went back to work, fulfilling their duty at long last. The edge of the box had touched ground, even if the rest of it was on the ramp. Now the two of the three men who’d jumped out were securing tiny anchors to keep it from moving while the third was slowly directing the driver to move ahead. Painfully, with only a few sparks to go with it, the truck crawled away and pulled the ramp out from under the box. It slid off smoothly – about time they did one part of it with grace – and only the faintest thud was heard when it’d completely been unloaded. The first step was done. Step two was getting it up there.
“How –”
He didn’t have to ask. The answer came an instant later. From the ceiling, directly above the green square, a massive panel swirled open and four black claws, almost as big as trees, reached down and waited at the painted corners. The two men who’d secured the anchors now went to work attaching those claws to the box. Somewhere in there was a stasis cell, but it looked like it wouldn’t crack until it was up there with the other four. That meant Jason and his lead had to go all the way upstairs again. ... That meant another elevator ride.
“If you find Eric, tell him we made his stupid deadline,” Benoit said.
“You’re not taking the elevator?”
“Of sorts.” Frenchie threw his cigarette on the ground and strode towards that box. “Be sure to remind the German she has no reason to be involved with this.” And then he climbed on the box, gesturing to whoever was running those claws, and stood with a flawless balance as the whole contraption rose up and pulled itself through the closing panel. Whatever the A-2 was doing to him must’ve been brutal. Or maybe he had a ‘thing’ for travelling on stasis cells.
He was alone again. He was back with his lead. The delivery men – A-14s, probably – had no interest in sticking around now that their work was finished. They were already rolling up their ramp and getting the trailer’s door closed. In another minute, they’d be gone.
“Twenty minutes,” Jason said quickly, just to remind her Eric was waiting on them. “We should go up there. Now, I mean.”
And with clothes.
And I ask you: is there anything better than paranoia?
Was there something faster? His foot –
“Recons,” Xander told her, “do not fight.” It sounded like a fact, and he’d said it with a lagging note of condescension, like she was stupid for not knowing that already or for knowing and fighting anyway. More importantly, he said it as he was walking up to her, because Xander, as ungodly swell with pain as he was, had zero concern for Alex being... not. His foot – dammit – it felt like it was splitting along his ankle! There was no way that was just a broken toe – no way – and if it was, and if it still wasn’t quite full strength thanks to that teeny grip Xander hadn’t let go of yet, how the fuck was he supposed to handle it when he was on his own again? And that wasn’t going to happen for another few hours – the guy had plenty of time to make it a thousand times worse! He – “They get the suit because they’re so bad at it. The suit lets them stay out of the way and stick to the shadows so the real Agents can do their job. Your stunning inability to grasp this simple concept concerns me, but you got some brownie points with your ‘let’s blame it on the dead and save my ass’ stunt. It... pleases me.” He smiled serenely. “And it’s what got you a car ride instead of a bath. In fact, I think you owe Sparky a ‘thanks’ for pitying you! If death’s not in your immediate future, I’ll put you in her hands, and that, dear lady, is as close to a miracle as anyone in here gets.”
Hurry up.
One sec.
Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up –
“But you’ve got plenty of time for that.” Xander tapped the Agent on her nose, and the only thing that stopped him from throwing in a precious ‘boop!’ was the energy it’d take to move his mouth. “Right now? Nap-time!”
Finally!
Alex collapsed, causing almost as big a wave in the water as the Agent when she fell. That’d been quite the jolt – focused and direct – and she’d be out for... he was guessing it’d be as long as they needed to get to wherever the hell they were driving to. And he’d like to ask if Xander was sure that’d been a smart move and if he knew – one hundred percent knew – where that place in Charlton was, but his foot, holy fuck his foot holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck –
Deep breaths.
‘Deep breaths’? Alex could barely hyperventilate his way to air! His lungs were failing and his vision broke out into white and his leg locked up and sank to the floor –
... It’s gonna get a little worse.
“... ‘Worse’...” That was what he’d meant to say, anyway. His throat...
I just need ten minutes.
No.
You don’t exactly have a choice.
No, no, no!
I’m exhausted. I literally cannot hold on for more than fifteen seconds.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no –
Xander let go.
Breathe! Breathe – fucking breathe – do something –
You can pass out if you want, but don’t drown.
Alex blinked. Heavily. Deeply. For an instant longer than he’d wanted to, and when he opened his eyes, the pain...
He was lying in the water now and it was swishing around his ears. His entire body ached from the chill of it, and the shooting fire he got from his foot when it idly twitched did nothing to compensate the cold. His teeth felt weighty, like he’d been gritting them for a while, and the side of his head pulsed with agony in time to the beat of his heart. He could feel it everywhere. His gut was outlined by the pounding as his chest rose stiltedly to let air in. But, he noted, there was no new torture from his leg.
You passed out.
“... I –” His throat needed a minute. He gave it one, because he didn’t have a choice with that, either. “... I did...?”
Ten minutes, like I promised. Kept both these ladies waiting.
He was going to have to explain that, too. His entire life was an alibi and it was getting hard to keep track of.
“You...” Ten minutes. Was that all he needed? “You can... handle...?”
Yeah, I got it. And how long did he have it for? Don’t know. I’m gonna have to lay off again in the car.
Dandy.
He sat up. Even if there wasn’t any new pain, it didn’t make it comfortable. He wheezed despite his best effort not to, and for what felt like an eternity, he couldn’t bring himself to bend his wounded leg to stand. That was... Ya gotta do it. ... Okay.
“Osono,” he said, his voice sounding shallow and thin in his own ears, “I’m – uh... You’re going to have to drag... her... out there.” To the car. They were bringing her along. She’d have to sit in the trunk because there were only two seats in the Audi, but with ‘nap-time’ in effect, he’d bet comfort wasn’t going to be an issue. “Just... give me a minute to stand up.”
Or ten. Or twenty.
We have to get Gwen.
Fine. Two.
Alex forced his knee to play along as he did his best to put his weight on his good leg. It worked, mostly, but what didn’t managed to get a tremor through his spine. It was too bad he hadn’t landed closer to the wall, because that would’ve been nice to use to get up.
He wondered if he could get a wheelchair. Like – a rocket one. That’d be pretty cool.
Five bucks says we can score one off the Agents.
Heh. Yeah. Maybe.
“Alright.” Shit... He needed to start coming to terms with this being permanent. “Alright. I’m up. Let’s try to get out of here.”
Phase one: find the codes or the next best thing – complete. Phase two: find Gwen, put Xander back – coming up, and coming up fast.
“Right behind you, boss.” There would be no getting naked while he was conscious. “I just need a second.”
And a second was all he had. His lead was getting away.
“Dude.” Gary was still facing the wall and his voice was muffled by it. “I couldn’t see a thing that happened, but it sounded super hot.”
“Don’t make me tell Diana,” Jason muttered. “You remember what I said? About keeping this to yourself?”
“My lips are sealed, bro!”
“Until you find a pork roast.” And before he could take off to find one – that was no exaggeration; Gary had immediately started looking for a kitchen – Jason stopped him and said, “Stay here. Please. I don’t need you running around, too.”
“I can’t watch the box thing?”
The ‘box thing’ would be joining the other four in that room. How they were going to get it up here was beyond him, but he hoped it didn’t involve manual labour. The Agency was more than advanced enough to manage some kind of system, but it was right up their alley to have a score of A-9s cart the thing up on their backs. Whatever built character, they said, and it was fantastic cardio.
He’d pass.
“No. Wait here.”
“But –”
He caught up in record time – before she’d even left the stairs – and he dutifully waited at her side, minus the distance he’d put between them that his sanity demanded he keep in place, while she handled the signing off. She’d been right before: where was Benoit? With the way he went on and on about how great Alexander – both of them – was, Jason had assumed he’d’ve been around to throw a fit over who’d been in charge of driving the truck. Then again, the Agency wasn’t known to make mistakes when it signing personnel. Maybe he was the Eric of the delivery division and he only seemed incompetent. Jason supposed it didn’t matter so long as the cell was here in one piece. Speaking of which, it was about time they got a look at the damn thing.
... His lead was glaring. Of course. And he almost made the mistake of trying to say something to break the heated silence, but she took off towards the elevators without a word. Well, on the bright side, at least she wasn’t making this ‘awkward’. This was obviously and clearly all in his head, and he wasn’t going to push it. If she wanted to keep quiet and try to wait an answer out of him, he was all for her trying, because patience was his greatest strength and his added motivation of never wanting to speak of their ‘conversation’ again, at this rate, he’d be happily taking it to his grave. The ball was in her court but he wasn’t playing so... there. He’d ignore her. He’d ignore it. He was almost delighted they had the delivery to deal with because it’d give them something different to think about until he could get her to drop it entirely.
The elevator ride down was very quiet. It was longer too, but that was because they were going deeper than the parking lot. Thanks to the Agency and their unique packages, they couldn’t afford a passer-by to peek into their garage and see what the good people of their Charlton base were up to. It wasn’t so much farther but it was certainly out of prying eyes. Unfortunately, it was exactly as red as the rest of the dying office.
The loading bay was as bare save for the few scattered columns left to hold the ceiling up. As they walked into the orange glow, which felt colder than it should have this time of year, they heard the faint rumble of an engine overhead. The sound was having a field day with all this space to roam in; it bounced and echoed and carried through the floor, and as it got louder and they saw the truck’s headlights rolling down the ramp on the far side, Jason’s eyes went to work on the smaller details and picked out the cloud of smoke not far from where they were. An ally. Finally. He had no idea what was going on with Frenchie and that A-2, but if Eric was happy with it, how pleasant could it have been? There was someone to sympathize with what he was going through instead of laughing like he’d been on the plane.
Maybe he shouldn’t have rushed to join him, but his lead was plenty offended with his not-naked as it was.
“We didn’t think you’d be here,” Jason said.
“This is my case.” And a very neutral breath added still more smoke to the pile. “Miss Agent, I take it you signed the forms. My thanks. It saves me a trip.”
The floor had been marked, he realized. There were different coloured squares – large ones – in the different corners. The one the truck had pulled to seemed green, although it was hard to tell in this light, and it was closer to the centre of the room than any of the others. It drove across but stopped its back wheels on its far edge, then slowly unfurled a ramp in the middle of the maybe-green shape. It took its time, as if it was somehow afraid of hurting the cement, and nothing else happened until three others hopped out of the back and stood around doing delivery things.
“How long is this going to take to set up?”
“It varies. Alexander-the-guest was kept in an older model. It works as fine as any other, but I imagine the size will add to the time.” He didn’t look concerned by it. “We have hours before they arrive.”
“Eric wants it done in twenty minutes,” Jason said. “He mentioned it five minutes ago.” Nine, actually, but who was counting?
“What Eric wants and what we can do rarely ever agree. He can wait. Or he can handle this himself.”
There was a heavy clatter. One of the delivery men said something Jason missed. This was immediately followed by a heavier clatter and a long, metallic whining. The door to the truck’s trailer had begun to rise at last, revealing another wall of metal behind it. That second wall was what began to move. Very slowly, it inched from its makeshift shelter, the top of the trailer splitting open to give it room to turn down and follow the ramp into the square. The delivery men stood watching as if their sheer willpower was what was helping it along. Instead, it was gravity, and a third, jarring, heart-pumping clank rang out as the metal box tilted down and slammed against the ramp. Its weight drove the edge into the ground and gouged it, but whatever gears had been moving the container held it firmly in their grip and went on easing the box gently into place.
Once again, Benoit should’ve been doing something about the care his cargo was getting. Jason didn’t know a lot about the transport of these things, but he was fairly sure it was supposed to be better than this. Instead, Frenchie was smirking into his cigarette, enjoying the little show.
“Shouldn’t you say something?”
“Like what?”
“Like...” Jason drew a blank. “What if they break it?”
“Break steel? By dropping it half a foot? Have some faith in your Agency’s technology.” He was still smirking. “So long as the cell is intact, I don’t care what they do with it.” This was the man who’d gotten touchy when Jason had implied Alexander was less than godlike. Now he was content to let that Agent’s original body get thrown around? “He’ll survive, but I doubt it matters in the end. My plan is to catch them while the reverse-transfer is underway, not after.”
There were a lot of questions about how that’d work or how the real Alexander would fare if it was interrupted, but Jason decided to focus on the part a tiny bit more relevant: “What happens after that? To the body?”
“I don’t care. Maybe I’ll kill him and give Eric a new soul to haunt.”
Everyone hated everyone – except for his lead, who exercised a very healthy obsession in screwing with Jason.
“I’m guessing you haven’t forgiven him for sabotaging you,” he said.
“There is that. But mostly, he’s a selfish prick.” Another clank. What the hell was going on over there? “Even his name spells ‘me’.”
Mystery solved. He’d been right, back in Elmira. There was no one else who smiled that proudly after killing somebody.
“So it’s Marshall Elias? Inside the real Alexander?” Frenchie’s silence said ‘yes’. “Ah. Well – that explains why it’s taken six years.”
“Mm.”
Jason was pretty glad none of this called for getting their old colleague back on his feet. He’d had his fill of that man back in training. He didn’t need a reunion.
And still another clank. This time, the gears groaned loudly and the metal box stuttered on the ramp. Before it looked as though it’d pull away and smash into the floor, however, they caught a hold of themselves and went back to work, fulfilling their duty at long last. The edge of the box had touched ground, even if the rest of it was on the ramp. Now the two of the three men who’d jumped out were securing tiny anchors to keep it from moving while the third was slowly directing the driver to move ahead. Painfully, with only a few sparks to go with it, the truck crawled away and pulled the ramp out from under the box. It slid off smoothly – about time they did one part of it with grace – and only the faintest thud was heard when it’d completely been unloaded. The first step was done. Step two was getting it up there.
“How –”
He didn’t have to ask. The answer came an instant later. From the ceiling, directly above the green square, a massive panel swirled open and four black claws, almost as big as trees, reached down and waited at the painted corners. The two men who’d secured the anchors now went to work attaching those claws to the box. Somewhere in there was a stasis cell, but it looked like it wouldn’t crack until it was up there with the other four. That meant Jason and his lead had to go all the way upstairs again. ... That meant another elevator ride.
“If you find Eric, tell him we made his stupid deadline,” Benoit said.
“You’re not taking the elevator?”
“Of sorts.” Frenchie threw his cigarette on the ground and strode towards that box. “Be sure to remind the German she has no reason to be involved with this.” And then he climbed on the box, gesturing to whoever was running those claws, and stood with a flawless balance as the whole contraption rose up and pulled itself through the closing panel. Whatever the A-2 was doing to him must’ve been brutal. Or maybe he had a ‘thing’ for travelling on stasis cells.
He was alone again. He was back with his lead. The delivery men – A-14s, probably – had no interest in sticking around now that their work was finished. They were already rolling up their ramp and getting the trailer’s door closed. In another minute, they’d be gone.
“Twenty minutes,” Jason said quickly, just to remind her Eric was waiting on them. “We should go up there. Now, I mean.”
And with clothes.
* * *
And I ask you: is there anything better than paranoia?
Was there something faster? His foot –
“Recons,” Xander told her, “do not fight.” It sounded like a fact, and he’d said it with a lagging note of condescension, like she was stupid for not knowing that already or for knowing and fighting anyway. More importantly, he said it as he was walking up to her, because Xander, as ungodly swell with pain as he was, had zero concern for Alex being... not. His foot – dammit – it felt like it was splitting along his ankle! There was no way that was just a broken toe – no way – and if it was, and if it still wasn’t quite full strength thanks to that teeny grip Xander hadn’t let go of yet, how the fuck was he supposed to handle it when he was on his own again? And that wasn’t going to happen for another few hours – the guy had plenty of time to make it a thousand times worse! He – “They get the suit because they’re so bad at it. The suit lets them stay out of the way and stick to the shadows so the real Agents can do their job. Your stunning inability to grasp this simple concept concerns me, but you got some brownie points with your ‘let’s blame it on the dead and save my ass’ stunt. It... pleases me.” He smiled serenely. “And it’s what got you a car ride instead of a bath. In fact, I think you owe Sparky a ‘thanks’ for pitying you! If death’s not in your immediate future, I’ll put you in her hands, and that, dear lady, is as close to a miracle as anyone in here gets.”
Hurry up.
One sec.
Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up –
“But you’ve got plenty of time for that.” Xander tapped the Agent on her nose, and the only thing that stopped him from throwing in a precious ‘boop!’ was the energy it’d take to move his mouth. “Right now? Nap-time!”
Finally!
Alex collapsed, causing almost as big a wave in the water as the Agent when she fell. That’d been quite the jolt – focused and direct – and she’d be out for... he was guessing it’d be as long as they needed to get to wherever the hell they were driving to. And he’d like to ask if Xander was sure that’d been a smart move and if he knew – one hundred percent knew – where that place in Charlton was, but his foot, holy fuck his foot holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck –
Deep breaths.
‘Deep breaths’? Alex could barely hyperventilate his way to air! His lungs were failing and his vision broke out into white and his leg locked up and sank to the floor –
... It’s gonna get a little worse.
“... ‘Worse’...” That was what he’d meant to say, anyway. His throat...
I just need ten minutes.
No.
You don’t exactly have a choice.
No, no, no!
I’m exhausted. I literally cannot hold on for more than fifteen seconds.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no –
Xander let go.
Breathe! Breathe – fucking breathe – do something –
You can pass out if you want, but don’t drown.
Alex blinked. Heavily. Deeply. For an instant longer than he’d wanted to, and when he opened his eyes, the pain...
He was lying in the water now and it was swishing around his ears. His entire body ached from the chill of it, and the shooting fire he got from his foot when it idly twitched did nothing to compensate the cold. His teeth felt weighty, like he’d been gritting them for a while, and the side of his head pulsed with agony in time to the beat of his heart. He could feel it everywhere. His gut was outlined by the pounding as his chest rose stiltedly to let air in. But, he noted, there was no new torture from his leg.
You passed out.
“... I –” His throat needed a minute. He gave it one, because he didn’t have a choice with that, either. “... I did...?”
Ten minutes, like I promised. Kept both these ladies waiting.
He was going to have to explain that, too. His entire life was an alibi and it was getting hard to keep track of.
“You...” Ten minutes. Was that all he needed? “You can... handle...?”
Yeah, I got it. And how long did he have it for? Don’t know. I’m gonna have to lay off again in the car.
Dandy.
He sat up. Even if there wasn’t any new pain, it didn’t make it comfortable. He wheezed despite his best effort not to, and for what felt like an eternity, he couldn’t bring himself to bend his wounded leg to stand. That was... Ya gotta do it. ... Okay.
“Osono,” he said, his voice sounding shallow and thin in his own ears, “I’m – uh... You’re going to have to drag... her... out there.” To the car. They were bringing her along. She’d have to sit in the trunk because there were only two seats in the Audi, but with ‘nap-time’ in effect, he’d bet comfort wasn’t going to be an issue. “Just... give me a minute to stand up.”
Or ten. Or twenty.
We have to get Gwen.
Fine. Two.
Alex forced his knee to play along as he did his best to put his weight on his good leg. It worked, mostly, but what didn’t managed to get a tremor through his spine. It was too bad he hadn’t landed closer to the wall, because that would’ve been nice to use to get up.
He wondered if he could get a wheelchair. Like – a rocket one. That’d be pretty cool.
Five bucks says we can score one off the Agents.
Heh. Yeah. Maybe.
“Alright.” Shit... He needed to start coming to terms with this being permanent. “Alright. I’m up. Let’s try to get out of here.”
Phase one: find the codes or the next best thing – complete. Phase two: find Gwen, put Xander back – coming up, and coming up fast.
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Mon Dec 06, 2010 3:21 pm
Focus was a hard thing to reestablish after everything that had happened. Especially in the tight space on the ride down in the elevator. She wanted to touch him, to put her hands on him again, to explore his mouth with hers AGAIN. But she knew from his behavior upstairs that he wasn't going to bite right now and all it would do is frustrate her further the more he refused to react. Even so, rage still pumped through Stephanie to be left standing almost practically shoulder-to-shoulder with her partner and not being able to do a damn thing about the feeling he'd churned up and left burning warmly deep inside her.
For several minutes she stood in agony as they descended, half of the time cursing herself internally for not just grabbing him and raping him and then the other half of the time cursing Jason for not just grabbing her and "raping" her - she'd play rough and fight him back, so it still counted. In her mind at least. And his silence only proved what a brick wall he was going to be about the whole damn thing. Until she got a few hundred swallows of Tequila into him, at least.
Finally the ride was over and she would have let out a sigh of relief when he fled from her side so urgently, if she hadn't been immediately distracted by the truck coming down the ramp into the wide open space. All thoughts of elevator rape and Jason evaporated as her attention fixated on the truck and what the men inside it were doing. Another stasis cell. Another...empty body. She swallowed thickly. This was what her cursed flesh would become once she made the jump into Gwen and began her new life. Just a few hours...
Joining Jason and Benoit, she was not listening as she fully entered spectator mode, her eyes latching onto every mechanical movement of the cargo being propelled from the back of the truck. Her obsession with the process and the fact that the body still existing in the stasis cell could be re-entered at any time and used again, made her associate it to some degree with Gwen and her "fertile" transfer state. So, when things started to bang loudly and the whining began, Stephanie did not blink, staring holes into the box of metal as it emerged, her arms held rigidly at her sides as if afraid to move lest she cause everything to fall apart right then and there.
As the box slid down the ramp, she held her breath and flinched violently when it hit the ground with a loud bang, a gasp held in her throat and her teeth grinding painfully. Of course, any words shared between her two colleagues was lost in the hum that filled her mind and she stared off into space while the men continued to work.
She was thinking of Rudy... remembering him mostly. That short, scrawny, geeky kid in training, not nearly good enough with computers to stay with the techies and thinking himself so much above them that being a "top secret agent man" was within his reach. It was immediately clear to everyone in their training unit that he wasn't serious enough for the grueling day-to-day task of keeping up with the rest of them. But it was rumored that he had family pressing money and sponsorship into Agency pockets to keep him in despite his constant string of failures. Someone at home had been desperate to keep Quin away and busy and she had vague suspicions nobody would have been sorry to see him killed when pushed beyond his limits. But everything was hearsay and Stephanie had no real clue about the man's past or where he'd come from.
Her experiences with him in training had been enough to give a clear picture of who he was, however. She hadn't been too busy with her sexual endeavors to notice him and his bumbling idiocy during training exercises and the few times they actually were in a classroom setting had been torture. Mostly, she remembered the lackadaisical manner in which he handled information he was given, often interrupting the instructor to insert unnecessary and unfunny jokes right in the middle of crucial education. She remembered specifically a time when they'd been practicing with weaponry and Rudy's gun had gotten stuck. The moron had not paid attention to instruction or protocol and stood shaking the weapon and slapping at it, semi-pointing it at the man standing beside him as he put it up to his ear to listen to the firearm like a fucking god-dammed cartoon character trying to "hear" what was wrong with it's interior. Needless to say when it eventually went off, trainee William Whitehorne did not thank him for the bullet to his spleen.
The man was an utter fuck-up and she still stood by what she'd said to Master before; he should not have been allowed to become an Agent, let alone waste the Agency's time by using the training program like a frigging playground. But he was an Agent and somehow the unceremonious handling of Alexander-the-guest's body reminded her that this ultimate Agency retard had Gwen in his custody. Her Gwen. Her body.
Stephanie did not notice when Benoit finally left as a wave of nausea filled her and threatened to make her sick all over the concrete floor. Images flashed in her mind of all the worse case scenarios - Gwen's body bloodied and bruised beyond recognition; Gwen fleeing into the night, free as a bird and disappearing forever without Alexander or anybody else who could be tracked; and worst of all, Rudy's car flaming and crashing into a semi truck on the highway and the resulting explosion sending up fiery pillars of blackened smoke, Gwen's body charring within the twisted steel cage of the vehicle.
By the time Jason turned to speak to her, she was trembling and breathing in labored gasps, pain swelling inside her to even think of the possibilities. She ignored what he said as she turned to give him a wild, green-eyed look, a frantic note entering her voice. "What if he shows up empty handed? Wh-what if he's hurt her?"
A thin fingered hand reached out to grab ahold of the top of his left shoulder as if to steady herself, but she clung to him while keeping their bodies apart. "What if he's killed her?" she asked sadly, her chin wobbling with the threat of tears in her eyes. "I couldn't live with that. I can't face that." She was sobbing softly now, but still she gripped him tightly with her one hand, swaying in the space separating them as a wave of blinding electrified pain lurched through her. Everything ached and screamed and she just stood panting wildly, hanging onto him, her fingers digging into his shoulder through his suit.
For several more moments she debated with her stomach about whether or not she should be sick before swallowing it down and stamping the feeling into submission. Staring at a point somewhere far away but about level with his chest, she murmured with cold promise, "If he's laid a hand on her...I'll kill him." She swayed again, still not touching him except for the one hand seemingly keeping her from tipping over. Then hilarity entered her green eyes as they stared at his chest but did not see his chest. Images of everything she'd do to that weasel flashed in her mind and the bloodlust and insanity that threatened her vision, consumed everyone else she could think of as well. In the midst of it she did not recognize Jason, but familiar faces such as Richard and Master fell before her like deer to a pack of wolves, the ending just as bloody.
"I'll fucking kill everybody," she said with a sudden smile that broadened with girlish glee. Then laughter came spilling forth, haphazardly escaping her lips in a despairing tumble, loud as she doubled over with the force of it, the sound echoing in the open space. Greasy strands of blonde hair fell into her face as she shook, her hand no longer digging into her partner but still resting on his shoulder as joy violated her and left her gasping and trying to catch her breath.
When she stood again, the pain had cleared from her eyes and the laughter stopped with nothing but a saddened smile left behind and she glanced around the room, either not noticing or not caring anyone who remained within ear-shot. Then the smile disappeared as she began searching frantically for the box that held the stasis cell - she did not remember seeing it leave. For several seconds, she was assaulted by the fear that someone had taken off with it right under their noses - how did they get in? With the truck? the elevator? - even irrationally thinking that Alexander-the-guest's body itself had gotten up and walked away. The irrationality was gone in seconds however as she looked up and remembered hazily seeing Benoit riding upwards on the box, and she sighed and relaxed.
"Upstairs. Right," she said with a small nod towards the ceiling and let go of her partner to begin a wobbling walk towards the elevator.
The ride up was not nearly as pleasant as the first had been, tears immediately starting to fall as soon as she entered the small space. There was no explanation for it. Not even in her own mind as she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Jason once again. She even forgot he was there as they rose upwards through concrete and steel.
She just wanted this whole thing to be over now. Fatigue drenched her whole body and filled her with those terrible aches and pains in every limb, gravity latched onto every joint and seemingly tugging her blissfully towards the ground. And for a reason she could not even begin to fathom, she felt incredibly scared and lost, like a drowning woman forced to hold her breath for too long and running out of air any second without the surface in sight. So she stood, swaying with the elevator, rubbing her bare arms and sobbed softly, tears streaming down her face and her nose starting to run. Sniffling, she grew irritated as droplets of clear watery snot ticklishly dripped off the tip of her nose and she wiped at it with her hand frustratedly, growling under her breath.
"Just stop fucking crying all the god-dammed time!" she screamed suddenly, her hands hovering like claws over her face, threateningly close to her eyes and the offending tears they shed. But the angry tone she took didn't make her stop, instead making it worse.
Memory surged up and engulfed her with it's warm embrace and it suddenly felt like she was back in the base in her hometown. She'd been on Osono's case, part of the undercover recon surrounding the troubled young woman suspected of being able to create and control fire. Stephanie had been one of a team of a dozen others, including a low-ranked Rudy at the time, and she'd been out in the field trailing the woman as she went shopping in her new neighborhood. It was a simple job and Osono was fairly oblivious to anyone around her except when they directly engaged her, so it was easy to stay unnoticed while also remaining close.
In the middle of the grocery store it had hit her. Watching Osono out of the corner of her eye, she saw a different woman set a jar of pasta sauce into her cart and it triggered an unwelcomed memory. About him. Such a simple thing, that jar, but instantly flashing in her mind's eye she saw herself standing in their kitchen cooking dinner with Richard... One of those blissful times when she'd felt complete. Rinsing penne noodles out in the sink and his arms moving around her to hold her, lips kissing at her neck and stubble tickling her; he was always giving into the temptation to touch her, except when they were in public. A necessary restraint that she did not fault him for one bit and which she was constantly pushing the limits of, only to be taught delightful lessons later about teasing him. He was always teaching her...
Richard'd left her only a month or two ago at that time but it still hurt so much she suddenly cringed and felt her insides falling apart right there in the middle of the store. So, she'd aborted her mission and returned to base, where she'd broken down in the elevator, alone and feeling unwanted and abandoned all over again. Where she was now. Left empty and discarded by the man she loved.
"I hate you..." she whimpered aloud, the words coming through a fog of pain she thought she'd escaped when she'd constructed the EDP. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him, she did not look at Jason but stared ahead at the elevator doors, her hand trembling as it rested on the wall of the small cylindrical box. And she sobbed again, just like all those years ago. "What do I have to do to convince you to stay? When will I ever be good enough? Just tell me, please! I'll do...anything...for you..." A begging note had entered her voice as she repeated exactly what she'd said that afternoon alone in the elevator, word for word, the note of her voice different this time around as the recital hit new levels of unburied pain. Anything further she had to say cut off suddenly as she found herself blinking at orange light when the elevator doors opened again.
Blinking and tears drying quickly, she realized this wasn't Grissom, her hometown, and she wasn't on Osono's case anymore. Recent memory hit her like a hammer to the skull and the past evaporated like smoke from Benoit's cigarette. This was Charlton. Gwen was coming - Rudy was delivering her. She was in an elevator - she looked over to finally notice Jason - with her partner. And she had a job to do. 20 minutes, he'd said. How much time...? The thought was left unfinished as asking was not the important part. She gave Jason one more haunted look but didn't say anything as she stepped forward on unbalanced feet and proceeded down the hallway leading to the room with the stasis cells, hugging herself with her hands cupped on her elbows. She was done saying things for a while...
There was something Ozzie was missing about the whole altercation and despite her earlier jumpy conclusions and the very obvious answer that the girl DID recognize him as a leader of some kind, she discarded that answer. For one thing, he'd killed his own "fellow Agent" and for another, he'd included Ozzie in his charade as an authority figure. If he had been planning to double cross her - which he surely would be IF he was indeed an Agent - then he was going to extreme lengths, shooting himself in the foot, just to continue the ruse that they were on the same team. She couldn't see how that would benefit him. Of course, then again...there'd been Rudy...
A second later all doubts and questions were shoved aside as suddenly both the woman and Alex collapsed to the watery ground. Ozzie blinked and rushed forward, hovering over him and looking down at him wildly as he lay gasping and twitching. Nudging him gently in the side with her boot, Ozzie cocked an eyebrow and said, "Ya alright?" She hoped he was. Ozzie definitely wasn't going to be hauling his ass to the car like he was a damn princess or something.
She cocked her head to the side curiously as his eyes closed and he suddenly wasn't moving anymore. "Shit!" she breathed as she crouched down beside him and touched a hand to his neck feeling for a pulse. When she finally found it, she let out another harsh breath of relief and bopped his shoulder very lightly with her fist in irritation. God! Freaking asshole was taking a nap!
Standing, she glanced over at the Agent woman and hurried over to her side to feel for a pulse as well. It was there, slow and steady but strong. So, "nap time", eh? She assumed that what he'd done to the woman was that special power Gwen had given him, but she'd also assumed that the thing was lethal. She was glad to find out that it was not, but she began to wonder when the Agent would wake up. Would Ozzie have to play the acting game without him? She didn't know if she could bullshit her way long enough to get them anywhere safely - she barely knew anything about these people and here Alex had been spouting off shit about recon and suits or whatever. She wouldn't be able to do it without him. Not believably. As much as she'd love to find out how the rematch with Little Miss Catsuit would go, she would hate to ruin their chances of getting Gwen back by making them start this whole thing over, finding another Agent with codes or whatever they needed.
Getting up from the girl's side, she wandered around looking for her gun that had fallen during the fight, her boots causing small waves in the water. Finally she found it and picked it up, dribbling like a tiny fountain as water poured from it's every little crevice. Carefully, she heated the air around it, evaporating as much of the moisture as she could before tucking it away in her waistband again and standing. Glancing in Alex's direction she realized she really was going to have to carry him someplace else if he was going to sleep; the water was freezing and he shouldn't be laying in it like this.
Something brief and small stirred within her at that moment. Something she had felt vague, ghost whisperings of in Starbucks. She felt the need to take care of somebody. To take care of him. He was nowhere near close to her emotionally and if she'd really had her way she would have just lit him up like a Christmas tree and walked away. Well...maybe she would have. She wasn't really sure now. He was still an annoying prissy bitch though!
Sighing, she'd just decided to go over to help him when he started to stir. Stopping to watch, she waited until he was making moves to stand before going over and geting in his face. "Jesus! What the hell!? You nearly gave me a heart attack! What's wrong with you!?"
It was more than clear that whatever the fuck was wrong with his stupid leg was getting worse as he hobbled to a standing position and stood there like he was about to fall over again. Not wanting to be the reason for further delay, she made sure not to touch him even though she had a very strong urge to lay a reprimanding punch to his shoulder. After the initial burst of anger, however, she found she lost the spark for it, as his current pathetic position took a lot of the fun out of being angry at him for being...well, pathetic.
She paused for a moment, scowling thoughtfully and glanced at the girl before looking back at him. She REALLY didn't like him, but...she needed him and right now, he needed her too and she couldn't curb stomp the desire to care anymore than it already had been. With a roll of her eyes, she stopped him before he could take a step forward and said, "Hold on, Mr. Wet Pants. Before you go freezing your ass in the car and getting those nice rental seats all wet..." She stood with about a foot of space between them and thumbed at her nose as she looked him over. The air around him shimmered and crackled with heat and within seconds his clothes and hair had dried out to the point where they wouldn't be uncomfortable to sit in.
Then she was stooping down to grab the female Agent's arm with one hand and without saying anything, slid her other arm underneath Alex's and grabbed onto his waist. She didn't want to draw attention to the damn thing, but of course the idiot was starting to protest. Aggressively she looked at him, keeping a firm hold on him. "Just take it, alright, dummie? I swear to God, I'll sock you so hard... Oh, Gwen power up- better not tooouuch me too rough!~" she said the last in a deep, mockingly stupid voice - obviously mimicking what she thought his voice sounded like - and rolled her eyes. "Shut up, whiny asshole! Come on."
Thankfully, he didn't fight her as she hauled both him and the Agent woman outside, but broke off from her without her giving any complaint once they'd exited the front doors. Once outside in the charred grass, Ozzie picked the woman up and tossed her over her own shoulder as they walked the rest of the way to the car, not seeming to break a sweat under the load of the 123 lb unconscious woman. Looking to Alex for direction, she was a little surprised when he wordlessly indicated the trunk, but she had no problem with it, opening it from the driver's side. Well, looked like they wouldn't have to deal with Invisi-Lady until they got to wherever they needed her. Slamming the trunk closed over the still wet Agent, she whistled to herself as she got back behind the wheel.
"Where to now, Hoss?" she asked, superficially adjusting the rearview before glancing at him. "Charlton, yeah?" She had the car already running before the GPS was set.
"♪ 'Cause it's just a hummingbird moth, who's acting like a bird that thinks it's a bee! ♫" his male, falsetto voice continued as he pulled into the parking garage of the large, dark and looming building. The gunshot wound in his right shoulder had stopped bleeding some time ago and so had the cut in his forehead. But there was still a slight swelling to the bruises that distorted his features and dried blood caked the right side of his face and all down the right side of his body, his clothes stiff and darkened where the blood had drenched him through.
Whistling airily the rest of the tune as he found a parking spot, he turned off the car and turned to his unconscious passenger. Gwen sat slumped to one side of the car, her hands and feet still cuffed, and her eyes closed as she leaned against the window. When he'd switched cars back at that church, he'd retaped her mouth, just to save himself the trouble of having to deal with that in case she woke up, but he'd kept her pretty pumped full of drugs throughout the ride. Now, as he looked at her, he suffered a bit of a quandary. How the hell was he gonna get fatso upstairs to the lobby? There was an elevator around here somewhere of course...there had to be...
Getting out of the car, Rudy popped his head above the roof like a scrawny meerkat searching for danger, his eyebrows bouncing in relief as he saw the light of the elevator flush against the far wall. Oh, thank God. He didn't need to carry her up stairs. Going around the car to the other side, he was faced with a white drawn heart and the word "4ever" on the window, obscuring Gwen's face from view. Opening the door, he jumped back a few steps as gravity pulled her down to topple face-first to the pavement. Glancing around guiltily, he rubbed his hands together, spit on them both and then rubbed them together again before attempting to grab ahold of her.
Putting pressure on his legs and bending his back low, he held her underneath her armpits and tugged her in stops and starts the rest of the way out of the car, so she was laying parallel between his stolen vehicle and the one he'd parked beside. Letting go of her, he stood up and took in a few lungfuls of air and repositioned himself to start pulling her in the most direct route towards the elevator. Then, grunting and wheezing and stopping frequently, he proceeded to drag her to the beacon of salvation against the far wall - Oh, sweet baby Jesus! Why'd he park so far away!? - pain burning in his bad shoulder.
Several times, grunting and sweating, his worn sneakers slipped on the pavement, causing him to fall hard on his hip bones, and by the time he made it within a few feet of the elevator, he was gasping desperately for breath and pulling her by a wrist, dragging her inch-by-inch to the double metal doors. It almost seemed like there was a harsh wind blowing from that direction that seemed intent on wearing him down and halting his progress.
But on he fought through exhaustion as white spots appeared in front of his eyes and he grew light-headed, his voice coming in loud grunts and groans of exertion. He was finally reduced to crawling with her, his arm waving to reach up to the key pad to put in his code. Rudy didn't even touch the damn thing before collapsing against the doors, with her in his lap, black filling his vision and sucking him under.
For several minutes she stood in agony as they descended, half of the time cursing herself internally for not just grabbing him and raping him and then the other half of the time cursing Jason for not just grabbing her and "raping" her - she'd play rough and fight him back, so it still counted. In her mind at least. And his silence only proved what a brick wall he was going to be about the whole damn thing. Until she got a few hundred swallows of Tequila into him, at least.
Finally the ride was over and she would have let out a sigh of relief when he fled from her side so urgently, if she hadn't been immediately distracted by the truck coming down the ramp into the wide open space. All thoughts of elevator rape and Jason evaporated as her attention fixated on the truck and what the men inside it were doing. Another stasis cell. Another...empty body. She swallowed thickly. This was what her cursed flesh would become once she made the jump into Gwen and began her new life. Just a few hours...
Joining Jason and Benoit, she was not listening as she fully entered spectator mode, her eyes latching onto every mechanical movement of the cargo being propelled from the back of the truck. Her obsession with the process and the fact that the body still existing in the stasis cell could be re-entered at any time and used again, made her associate it to some degree with Gwen and her "fertile" transfer state. So, when things started to bang loudly and the whining began, Stephanie did not blink, staring holes into the box of metal as it emerged, her arms held rigidly at her sides as if afraid to move lest she cause everything to fall apart right then and there.
As the box slid down the ramp, she held her breath and flinched violently when it hit the ground with a loud bang, a gasp held in her throat and her teeth grinding painfully. Of course, any words shared between her two colleagues was lost in the hum that filled her mind and she stared off into space while the men continued to work.
She was thinking of Rudy... remembering him mostly. That short, scrawny, geeky kid in training, not nearly good enough with computers to stay with the techies and thinking himself so much above them that being a "top secret agent man" was within his reach. It was immediately clear to everyone in their training unit that he wasn't serious enough for the grueling day-to-day task of keeping up with the rest of them. But it was rumored that he had family pressing money and sponsorship into Agency pockets to keep him in despite his constant string of failures. Someone at home had been desperate to keep Quin away and busy and she had vague suspicions nobody would have been sorry to see him killed when pushed beyond his limits. But everything was hearsay and Stephanie had no real clue about the man's past or where he'd come from.
Her experiences with him in training had been enough to give a clear picture of who he was, however. She hadn't been too busy with her sexual endeavors to notice him and his bumbling idiocy during training exercises and the few times they actually were in a classroom setting had been torture. Mostly, she remembered the lackadaisical manner in which he handled information he was given, often interrupting the instructor to insert unnecessary and unfunny jokes right in the middle of crucial education. She remembered specifically a time when they'd been practicing with weaponry and Rudy's gun had gotten stuck. The moron had not paid attention to instruction or protocol and stood shaking the weapon and slapping at it, semi-pointing it at the man standing beside him as he put it up to his ear to listen to the firearm like a fucking god-dammed cartoon character trying to "hear" what was wrong with it's interior. Needless to say when it eventually went off, trainee William Whitehorne did not thank him for the bullet to his spleen.
The man was an utter fuck-up and she still stood by what she'd said to Master before; he should not have been allowed to become an Agent, let alone waste the Agency's time by using the training program like a frigging playground. But he was an Agent and somehow the unceremonious handling of Alexander-the-guest's body reminded her that this ultimate Agency retard had Gwen in his custody. Her Gwen. Her body.
Stephanie did not notice when Benoit finally left as a wave of nausea filled her and threatened to make her sick all over the concrete floor. Images flashed in her mind of all the worse case scenarios - Gwen's body bloodied and bruised beyond recognition; Gwen fleeing into the night, free as a bird and disappearing forever without Alexander or anybody else who could be tracked; and worst of all, Rudy's car flaming and crashing into a semi truck on the highway and the resulting explosion sending up fiery pillars of blackened smoke, Gwen's body charring within the twisted steel cage of the vehicle.
By the time Jason turned to speak to her, she was trembling and breathing in labored gasps, pain swelling inside her to even think of the possibilities. She ignored what he said as she turned to give him a wild, green-eyed look, a frantic note entering her voice. "What if he shows up empty handed? Wh-what if he's hurt her?"
A thin fingered hand reached out to grab ahold of the top of his left shoulder as if to steady herself, but she clung to him while keeping their bodies apart. "What if he's killed her?" she asked sadly, her chin wobbling with the threat of tears in her eyes. "I couldn't live with that. I can't face that." She was sobbing softly now, but still she gripped him tightly with her one hand, swaying in the space separating them as a wave of blinding electrified pain lurched through her. Everything ached and screamed and she just stood panting wildly, hanging onto him, her fingers digging into his shoulder through his suit.
For several more moments she debated with her stomach about whether or not she should be sick before swallowing it down and stamping the feeling into submission. Staring at a point somewhere far away but about level with his chest, she murmured with cold promise, "If he's laid a hand on her...I'll kill him." She swayed again, still not touching him except for the one hand seemingly keeping her from tipping over. Then hilarity entered her green eyes as they stared at his chest but did not see his chest. Images of everything she'd do to that weasel flashed in her mind and the bloodlust and insanity that threatened her vision, consumed everyone else she could think of as well. In the midst of it she did not recognize Jason, but familiar faces such as Richard and Master fell before her like deer to a pack of wolves, the ending just as bloody.
"I'll fucking kill everybody," she said with a sudden smile that broadened with girlish glee. Then laughter came spilling forth, haphazardly escaping her lips in a despairing tumble, loud as she doubled over with the force of it, the sound echoing in the open space. Greasy strands of blonde hair fell into her face as she shook, her hand no longer digging into her partner but still resting on his shoulder as joy violated her and left her gasping and trying to catch her breath.
When she stood again, the pain had cleared from her eyes and the laughter stopped with nothing but a saddened smile left behind and she glanced around the room, either not noticing or not caring anyone who remained within ear-shot. Then the smile disappeared as she began searching frantically for the box that held the stasis cell - she did not remember seeing it leave. For several seconds, she was assaulted by the fear that someone had taken off with it right under their noses - how did they get in? With the truck? the elevator? - even irrationally thinking that Alexander-the-guest's body itself had gotten up and walked away. The irrationality was gone in seconds however as she looked up and remembered hazily seeing Benoit riding upwards on the box, and she sighed and relaxed.
"Upstairs. Right," she said with a small nod towards the ceiling and let go of her partner to begin a wobbling walk towards the elevator.
The ride up was not nearly as pleasant as the first had been, tears immediately starting to fall as soon as she entered the small space. There was no explanation for it. Not even in her own mind as she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Jason once again. She even forgot he was there as they rose upwards through concrete and steel.
She just wanted this whole thing to be over now. Fatigue drenched her whole body and filled her with those terrible aches and pains in every limb, gravity latched onto every joint and seemingly tugging her blissfully towards the ground. And for a reason she could not even begin to fathom, she felt incredibly scared and lost, like a drowning woman forced to hold her breath for too long and running out of air any second without the surface in sight. So she stood, swaying with the elevator, rubbing her bare arms and sobbed softly, tears streaming down her face and her nose starting to run. Sniffling, she grew irritated as droplets of clear watery snot ticklishly dripped off the tip of her nose and she wiped at it with her hand frustratedly, growling under her breath.
"Just stop fucking crying all the god-dammed time!" she screamed suddenly, her hands hovering like claws over her face, threateningly close to her eyes and the offending tears they shed. But the angry tone she took didn't make her stop, instead making it worse.
Memory surged up and engulfed her with it's warm embrace and it suddenly felt like she was back in the base in her hometown. She'd been on Osono's case, part of the undercover recon surrounding the troubled young woman suspected of being able to create and control fire. Stephanie had been one of a team of a dozen others, including a low-ranked Rudy at the time, and she'd been out in the field trailing the woman as she went shopping in her new neighborhood. It was a simple job and Osono was fairly oblivious to anyone around her except when they directly engaged her, so it was easy to stay unnoticed while also remaining close.
In the middle of the grocery store it had hit her. Watching Osono out of the corner of her eye, she saw a different woman set a jar of pasta sauce into her cart and it triggered an unwelcomed memory. About him. Such a simple thing, that jar, but instantly flashing in her mind's eye she saw herself standing in their kitchen cooking dinner with Richard... One of those blissful times when she'd felt complete. Rinsing penne noodles out in the sink and his arms moving around her to hold her, lips kissing at her neck and stubble tickling her; he was always giving into the temptation to touch her, except when they were in public. A necessary restraint that she did not fault him for one bit and which she was constantly pushing the limits of, only to be taught delightful lessons later about teasing him. He was always teaching her...
Richard'd left her only a month or two ago at that time but it still hurt so much she suddenly cringed and felt her insides falling apart right there in the middle of the store. So, she'd aborted her mission and returned to base, where she'd broken down in the elevator, alone and feeling unwanted and abandoned all over again. Where she was now. Left empty and discarded by the man she loved.
"I hate you..." she whimpered aloud, the words coming through a fog of pain she thought she'd escaped when she'd constructed the EDP. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him, she did not look at Jason but stared ahead at the elevator doors, her hand trembling as it rested on the wall of the small cylindrical box. And she sobbed again, just like all those years ago. "What do I have to do to convince you to stay? When will I ever be good enough? Just tell me, please! I'll do...anything...for you..." A begging note had entered her voice as she repeated exactly what she'd said that afternoon alone in the elevator, word for word, the note of her voice different this time around as the recital hit new levels of unburied pain. Anything further she had to say cut off suddenly as she found herself blinking at orange light when the elevator doors opened again.
Blinking and tears drying quickly, she realized this wasn't Grissom, her hometown, and she wasn't on Osono's case anymore. Recent memory hit her like a hammer to the skull and the past evaporated like smoke from Benoit's cigarette. This was Charlton. Gwen was coming - Rudy was delivering her. She was in an elevator - she looked over to finally notice Jason - with her partner. And she had a job to do. 20 minutes, he'd said. How much time...? The thought was left unfinished as asking was not the important part. She gave Jason one more haunted look but didn't say anything as she stepped forward on unbalanced feet and proceeded down the hallway leading to the room with the stasis cells, hugging herself with her hands cupped on her elbows. She was done saying things for a while...
***
Osono watched with interest as Alex continued to tear the female Agent down, the dark haired girl's body turning to stone as he came up to her. She could practically feel the need to stay strong coming off the other woman in waves just by looking at her, and there was obviously a war within her not to break down and cry in front of someone she assumed was her boss for some reason. It didn't make much sense to her why the woman was suddenly listening to Alex, because other than the fact that he'd just ruthlessly killed her team mate or whatever, and the tone and attitude he adopted, it seemed like such bullshit because of one factor - the girl should not have recognized him.There was something Ozzie was missing about the whole altercation and despite her earlier jumpy conclusions and the very obvious answer that the girl DID recognize him as a leader of some kind, she discarded that answer. For one thing, he'd killed his own "fellow Agent" and for another, he'd included Ozzie in his charade as an authority figure. If he had been planning to double cross her - which he surely would be IF he was indeed an Agent - then he was going to extreme lengths, shooting himself in the foot, just to continue the ruse that they were on the same team. She couldn't see how that would benefit him. Of course, then again...there'd been Rudy...
A second later all doubts and questions were shoved aside as suddenly both the woman and Alex collapsed to the watery ground. Ozzie blinked and rushed forward, hovering over him and looking down at him wildly as he lay gasping and twitching. Nudging him gently in the side with her boot, Ozzie cocked an eyebrow and said, "Ya alright?" She hoped he was. Ozzie definitely wasn't going to be hauling his ass to the car like he was a damn princess or something.
She cocked her head to the side curiously as his eyes closed and he suddenly wasn't moving anymore. "Shit!" she breathed as she crouched down beside him and touched a hand to his neck feeling for a pulse. When she finally found it, she let out another harsh breath of relief and bopped his shoulder very lightly with her fist in irritation. God! Freaking asshole was taking a nap!
Standing, she glanced over at the Agent woman and hurried over to her side to feel for a pulse as well. It was there, slow and steady but strong. So, "nap time", eh? She assumed that what he'd done to the woman was that special power Gwen had given him, but she'd also assumed that the thing was lethal. She was glad to find out that it was not, but she began to wonder when the Agent would wake up. Would Ozzie have to play the acting game without him? She didn't know if she could bullshit her way long enough to get them anywhere safely - she barely knew anything about these people and here Alex had been spouting off shit about recon and suits or whatever. She wouldn't be able to do it without him. Not believably. As much as she'd love to find out how the rematch with Little Miss Catsuit would go, she would hate to ruin their chances of getting Gwen back by making them start this whole thing over, finding another Agent with codes or whatever they needed.
Getting up from the girl's side, she wandered around looking for her gun that had fallen during the fight, her boots causing small waves in the water. Finally she found it and picked it up, dribbling like a tiny fountain as water poured from it's every little crevice. Carefully, she heated the air around it, evaporating as much of the moisture as she could before tucking it away in her waistband again and standing. Glancing in Alex's direction she realized she really was going to have to carry him someplace else if he was going to sleep; the water was freezing and he shouldn't be laying in it like this.
Something brief and small stirred within her at that moment. Something she had felt vague, ghost whisperings of in Starbucks. She felt the need to take care of somebody. To take care of him. He was nowhere near close to her emotionally and if she'd really had her way she would have just lit him up like a Christmas tree and walked away. Well...maybe she would have. She wasn't really sure now. He was still an annoying prissy bitch though!
Sighing, she'd just decided to go over to help him when he started to stir. Stopping to watch, she waited until he was making moves to stand before going over and geting in his face. "Jesus! What the hell!? You nearly gave me a heart attack! What's wrong with you!?"
It was more than clear that whatever the fuck was wrong with his stupid leg was getting worse as he hobbled to a standing position and stood there like he was about to fall over again. Not wanting to be the reason for further delay, she made sure not to touch him even though she had a very strong urge to lay a reprimanding punch to his shoulder. After the initial burst of anger, however, she found she lost the spark for it, as his current pathetic position took a lot of the fun out of being angry at him for being...well, pathetic.
She paused for a moment, scowling thoughtfully and glanced at the girl before looking back at him. She REALLY didn't like him, but...she needed him and right now, he needed her too and she couldn't curb stomp the desire to care anymore than it already had been. With a roll of her eyes, she stopped him before he could take a step forward and said, "Hold on, Mr. Wet Pants. Before you go freezing your ass in the car and getting those nice rental seats all wet..." She stood with about a foot of space between them and thumbed at her nose as she looked him over. The air around him shimmered and crackled with heat and within seconds his clothes and hair had dried out to the point where they wouldn't be uncomfortable to sit in.
Then she was stooping down to grab the female Agent's arm with one hand and without saying anything, slid her other arm underneath Alex's and grabbed onto his waist. She didn't want to draw attention to the damn thing, but of course the idiot was starting to protest. Aggressively she looked at him, keeping a firm hold on him. "Just take it, alright, dummie? I swear to God, I'll sock you so hard... Oh, Gwen power up- better not tooouuch me too rough!~" she said the last in a deep, mockingly stupid voice - obviously mimicking what she thought his voice sounded like - and rolled her eyes. "Shut up, whiny asshole! Come on."
Thankfully, he didn't fight her as she hauled both him and the Agent woman outside, but broke off from her without her giving any complaint once they'd exited the front doors. Once outside in the charred grass, Ozzie picked the woman up and tossed her over her own shoulder as they walked the rest of the way to the car, not seeming to break a sweat under the load of the 123 lb unconscious woman. Looking to Alex for direction, she was a little surprised when he wordlessly indicated the trunk, but she had no problem with it, opening it from the driver's side. Well, looked like they wouldn't have to deal with Invisi-Lady until they got to wherever they needed her. Slamming the trunk closed over the still wet Agent, she whistled to herself as she got back behind the wheel.
"Where to now, Hoss?" she asked, superficially adjusting the rearview before glancing at him. "Charlton, yeah?" She had the car already running before the GPS was set.
***
"♪ And the moth defeats the mouse and man, it's messing with the plan, it can't be believed! ♫" Rudy sang to himself as he turned onto the street in front of the Agency Charlton base, tapping lightly at his steering wheel a small beat. Finally, after all that he'd been through he was here and more than ready to dump the psychic broad onto those who wanted her - he wished them all the most terrible, miserable luck with her case. After the hell she'd put him through, it was only fair that whoever she got handed over to next got just as much if not worse. Especially considering it was Stephanie. He was still sore about how she'd suddenly, inexplicably become a prude back in training and after those wild times they'd shared! It didn't make sense and Rudy nursed the 6 year grudge with bitter satisfaction."♪ 'Cause it's just a hummingbird moth, who's acting like a bird that thinks it's a bee! ♫" his male, falsetto voice continued as he pulled into the parking garage of the large, dark and looming building. The gunshot wound in his right shoulder had stopped bleeding some time ago and so had the cut in his forehead. But there was still a slight swelling to the bruises that distorted his features and dried blood caked the right side of his face and all down the right side of his body, his clothes stiff and darkened where the blood had drenched him through.
Whistling airily the rest of the tune as he found a parking spot, he turned off the car and turned to his unconscious passenger. Gwen sat slumped to one side of the car, her hands and feet still cuffed, and her eyes closed as she leaned against the window. When he'd switched cars back at that church, he'd retaped her mouth, just to save himself the trouble of having to deal with that in case she woke up, but he'd kept her pretty pumped full of drugs throughout the ride. Now, as he looked at her, he suffered a bit of a quandary. How the hell was he gonna get fatso upstairs to the lobby? There was an elevator around here somewhere of course...there had to be...
Getting out of the car, Rudy popped his head above the roof like a scrawny meerkat searching for danger, his eyebrows bouncing in relief as he saw the light of the elevator flush against the far wall. Oh, thank God. He didn't need to carry her up stairs. Going around the car to the other side, he was faced with a white drawn heart and the word "4ever" on the window, obscuring Gwen's face from view. Opening the door, he jumped back a few steps as gravity pulled her down to topple face-first to the pavement. Glancing around guiltily, he rubbed his hands together, spit on them both and then rubbed them together again before attempting to grab ahold of her.
Putting pressure on his legs and bending his back low, he held her underneath her armpits and tugged her in stops and starts the rest of the way out of the car, so she was laying parallel between his stolen vehicle and the one he'd parked beside. Letting go of her, he stood up and took in a few lungfuls of air and repositioned himself to start pulling her in the most direct route towards the elevator. Then, grunting and wheezing and stopping frequently, he proceeded to drag her to the beacon of salvation against the far wall - Oh, sweet baby Jesus! Why'd he park so far away!? - pain burning in his bad shoulder.
Several times, grunting and sweating, his worn sneakers slipped on the pavement, causing him to fall hard on his hip bones, and by the time he made it within a few feet of the elevator, he was gasping desperately for breath and pulling her by a wrist, dragging her inch-by-inch to the double metal doors. It almost seemed like there was a harsh wind blowing from that direction that seemed intent on wearing him down and halting his progress.
But on he fought through exhaustion as white spots appeared in front of his eyes and he grew light-headed, his voice coming in loud grunts and groans of exertion. He was finally reduced to crawling with her, his arm waving to reach up to the key pad to put in his code. Rudy didn't even touch the damn thing before collapsing against the doors, with her in his lap, black filling his vision and sucking him under.
Last edited by TimeOfTheEye on Mon Feb 21, 2011 8:23 pm; edited 1 time in total
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Thu Dec 09, 2010 10:14 am
The slap of the door as he shut it sounded heavy on his ears. The small reprieve he had before Osono got in the car couldn’t be wasted, even if all he wanted to do was sit there and breathe. At least his clothes were dry again – one small mercy in the face of all the other crap – and he was pretty thankful for it. He’d tell her once she was done dumping the Agent in the trunk.
It’s not permanent.
His foot.
“Thanks, Doctor Xander.”
It might hurt real bad and it might be stiff for a while, but I don’t think it’s permanent.
“How long, exactly, is ‘a while’?”
... Umm...
“That’s what permanent means,” Alex muttered. “Good to know you gave me a keepsake. Glad to know I didn’t even have to ask.”
Can I rest now? I’m really tired.
“I know.” Whatever crazy, inhuman, masochistic endurance Xander’d grabbed from the Agency or just been born with, Alex was grateful for it. If he didn’t have it, and because asking him to control his fucking temper over a latte was out of the question, the guy would’ve worn out forever ago, and with the way Xander had been wearing out already... If anyone else’d been inserted inside his head, then ignoring the whole ‘you were the one who broke my foot, jerk’ reality, everyone would’ve been caught. And if that wasn’t enough, while in the midst of any other time Alex would’ve been left to handle his foot by himself, now that he was on the move, he couldn’t begin to describe how fortunate he was to have a maniac in his brain that at least carried some benefit. But – still, and he could not stress this enough, this was Xander’s fault in the first place. And Starbucks’. “How long?”
I want a full break. I’d like the whole ride down there... But Alex needed to be able to handle it. To be fair, you were standing before you pussied out and fainted. You’ll be sitting now.
That made a difference?
It’s better than nothing.
... Fair enough.
“But not all at once,” Alex said.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Xander was rolling in sincerity with that one. Then again, maybe he was being honest, because Alex wasn’t immediately crippled with the full force of his shattered limb. It was starting as a hollow ache instead. He wondered how long it’d take before all of it got thrown at him.
The trunk had slammed. Osono was walking back to the driver’s seat. He hadn’t said a whole lot to her since the – uh... ‘Rudy is a horrible person’ thing... but he was thankful for that, too. If even Xander hadn’t made a dent – at least a dent – in her anger over it, he needed all the time and Agents he could get to help her blow off steam. Now that it was over though, sitting on bad blood like this was only going to explode in his face if he didn’t handle it. Or try to, anyway.
Don’t look at me. And you’re at two percent. Goin’ on five.
His foot twitched. It didn’t help at all.
“Yeah. Charlton,” he said, trying to focus on her when she got in. “And... where in Charlton... is...”
Seven percent. Ow. Don’t ‘ow’ yet. You’ve got a lot to go. And just go to Charlton – anywhere’s fine.
“You don’t have the address?”
Not the exact address.
“Xan–” Cover. “Gwen. I thought you knew where you were going.”
There was a little huff and a blasé rehashing of the ‘eight years when it was really six’ crap before he officially answered, It’s why we’re bringin’ the Agent. She’ll know.
Alex might’ve had a better answer for why that was horrible logic based on nothing, but Xander said ‘nine’ and he got distracted.
“We’re – just... going to Charlton for now. Once we get there, we’ll worry about the exact location,” he said, reaching for the GPS. After a few buttons, he had it set on some store downtown. It’d put them in the heart of the city and they might even drive past the place. If it stuck out as sorely as the one in Elmira, it’d be all they needed. “Let’s hope our new Agent friend doesn’t mind the trip.”
Jason took it back: now the floodgates had opened. It wasn’t as if he’d deluded himself into thinking his lead was anything less than what the Agency wanted – borderline insane, and maybe beyond it a bit – but he still had to force himself not to take a step back when she grabbed onto him. He should’ve been used to it by now, but there it was: she was still a pro at unnerving him.
He tried not to say anything when she declared war on the planet, but it got harder as it went on. When they made it to the elevator and she started crying, he was torn between politely ignoring it and trying to help her. ‘Help her how’ was a minor detail he ended up not having to figure out, but it left its mark. He knew where he stood with an A-3, but where he stood with her was by far the most mind-numbingly annoying question he’d ever had to answer, and while he’d thought about it, she kept talking.
At first he assumed she meant him. He was the only one in there after all, and with the question over whether or not he’d stay with her until the end of this only recently resolved – as far as he knew – he’d logically decided her emotions – ha! – were getting to her and she’d simply forgotten. No, it didn’t hold up in front of what she was saying. There was too much weight in her words and he knew she wasn’t so attached to him that he’d be the target of it. In lieu of anything else to do, he fell back on his knowledge of the Agency hierarchy and didn’t press her. If she wanted to explain, she would have. If she wanted him to ask... Better safe than sorry. He shut up. And then she walked away and left him standing at the elevators.
What the hell was going on anymore? This was the hundredth time he’d mulled over it and he was even farther away from the explanation than he’d been in the beginning. It wasn’t this case that was doomed; it was him. ... And this case. They went hand in hand.
Ding!
The elevators ‘dinged’. Charlton had happy chimes to announce new arrivals but they couldn’t get new lights? And why had no one turned on any of the others? When the sun set, it’d be pitch black.
“Hiya, Jason!”
“Eric. Sir.” Jason gave a respectful nod of his head. He immediately choked on whatever other word he’d had bubbling up and took half a minute to breathe again. “Is that –”
“Look who I found downstairs! Gwen! And some other guy! Isn’t this exciting?”
Eric was positively delighted with this turn of events. Jason wasn’t sure if he should join in or be horrified. When had they arrived? Why were they passed out? Was – that...?
“Is he one of us?”
“Common sense says ‘yes’,” Eric sang. “Must be Rooty-roo. Would you take him to... the... uh... What’s the place you go to when you’re... not good?”
What was he talking about? And if it truly was Quin, what the fuck had happened to him?
Eric had Gwen – his target – sitting on his left arm and leaning against his neck the same way a child would with its parent, minus the ‘conscious’ part. Rudy, meanwhile, had been left to dangle under Eric’s right arm like a log or a newspaper. It wasn’t hard to see who had the priority in the A-1’s eyes and Jason had a fairly good feeling it was less to do with chivalry than anything else.
“Oh. Oh – the – uh... sick bay.”
“That’s it! Sick bay!” Eric said the name stiltedly, like he wasn’t too familiar with the term. It made sense. Thanks to his powers letting him dump any body he picked up and his Agency-issued lack of concern for anyone around him, he wouldn’t have much use for a place like that. “Take ‘im there, will ya? Just dump him in any ol’ corner – I’ll get to him when I can.”
“And...” He couldn’t believe it. She was here. “And her?”
“Stephie’s been looking frazzled,” Eric said, almost sympathetic. “I don’t want her hearing Gwen’s arrived and then running down the stairs and breaking her neck in a mad dash to see her. I’ll let these two meet up and then she can go to the...” He spaced out for a moment, long enough to carefully roll out the words. “... sick bay.”
“You’re taking her? Now?”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s more than frazzled,” Jason told him. “She’s... unravelling.” And that was the best case scenario.
“This’ll make her feel better!”
“Sir – I wouldn’t chance it. Anybody else and I’d wholeheartedly agree, but Stephanie –”
“Okay, okay. A-6s know best,” Eric trilled. “I’ll take them both to the... sick bay. How’s Xandy?”
‘Xandy’?
Right, him.
“The stasis cell has been unloaded and brought upstairs,” he reported. “I’m not sure about its final status, but Benoit went up with it. I’m sure it’s been handled.”
“Ah, geez. He’s with him alone? Look – take them,” Eric said, shoving Gwen into his arms and half-dropping Rudy on the floor. “I’ve gotta get up there.”
“Is something wrong?”
“He might’ve said his plan called for keeping Xander alive but he’ll switch it up on a dime.” The man was already walking away and calling back over his shoulder. “He’s a sensitive guy, that Benny. He’ll hold a grudge to the day he dies. Take care of ‘em, Jason!”
“Will do, sir,” he shouted back.
Alright, this he could do. He could manage this. Gwen rested limply in his arms, breathing but virtually dead. Those were not good adjectives to use with her, and if Rudy had had any sense, he would’ve shown up as a blank slate instead of painting himself in bruises to show what a pretty picture he could make out of his blood. His lead would probably go right for his throat. There was what Eric had promised on the plane, too. The stars were not shining in ‘Agent’ Quin’s future.
... Where the hell was the sick bay?
So.
They met again.
Circumstances had certainly changed. Improved, in some respects. For one, the man was not talking.
Benoit did not appreciate his forbiddance to stand in front of the stasis cell and gloat. That woman was stalking the entire floor, looking for him. Good God – if he had to put up with even another minute of that, he’d blow his own brains out before the seconds hit double-digits. Regardless, the room was bare enough to allow a clear view from his corner. Marshall Elias was a fine addition to the other four, his cell as red as the rest of them, painted lovingly as the traitor he was.
Idiot. The worst that would’ve happened was removing him from Alexander. The technology was new, undeniably, but re-transferring was a minor feat in comparison to everything else. All the man had to do was accept his failure and move on, which shouldn’t have been difficult considering how he’d ‘picked’, to put it lightly, through a hundred others. He had no respect for these people. It was disgraceful. Benoit was disgusted, but with the Agency’s decision more than the decidee. A dog was a dog – it couldn’t help what it was. Those in charge should have shown more insight in whom they deemed worthy of promotion to a lead. What on earth had they thought would happen?
He would have blamed the man’s nature as his fatal flaw; unfortunately, his nature was what led him to be a Pain Eater and Jean had been too worthy of a soul to share that one’s horridness. He was, in fact, was too worthy for many hands Fate had dealt him, and his latest tragedy was the worst blow of all. Benoit wasn’t even sure who to blame for it; both Eric and the fake Alexander had done their part, and as a result, he had to settle for hating them both. He was so sure in this, there was no blood to boil. Such a thing was beneath him anyway, as he prided himself on keeping a level head. Unfortunately, much of that meant he couldn’t dwell on what had happened to his friend. Not now, not when his hands were tied putting up the precious A-1.
That would change.
For now, he turned to the task at hand: getting Alexander-the-guest to prove himself as the selfish bastard he had always been. The beauty of being simple-minded was that he was easy to predict. Benoit had already guessed his movements. After he spent some time bragging about the front-and-centre placement of his cell, he would willingly waste his time commenting on the inane – likely ‘reminiscing’ over how wonderful it had been to be his original self, and if it was true, why in fuck would he waste everyone’s time with this nonsense – and then waste more time trying to work the transfer himself. He was already impatient over it. Benoit refused to strike until Alexander was in the process of separating. It was a narrow window thanks to the marvellous advancements made – he accepted that he owed some manner of gratitude to Patten – but the entire reason for his success was his impeccable agility. And dexterity. And reflexes. If it involved movement, he was in his element, and he took pride in knowing he was only an A-3 because he had refused to move up. He wanted this. The advantage he would gain was undeniable.
Once this was over, he was draining the cell and putting his cigarette out in the man’s eye. Alexander-the-guest wouldn’t be there to feel it, but it would make him happy.
Idiot. Absolutely an idiot.
That boy had no sense of severity in any situation. He’d hopped in his cell with the air of someone stupid in thinking they would be ‘out’ again in a year. Not so. And Elias had been told as much going in, though he chose to skip every other process if it meant hurrying things along. He’d been so eager to shove in everyone’s face how he had won and was going to rule the Agency on the back of Alexander’s gift. It was little things that pissed Benoit off the most: he had refused to cut his hair and now it bobbed around his head. It had been long enough to curl over his ears before he left, which had been yet another safety regulation he saw no reason to abide. Even his extremely-temporary-teammate saw fit to tie hers back – or at least she had until Patten showed up. The rest of the man was details that would have made a very useful Agent: six feet of height, strongly built, broad-shouldered and trained to forget pain. His face was obscured by the bulky mask in place to let him breathe through his suspension, but even so, his grating smirk didn’t have to be seen to irritate.
What a waste. Alexander-the-guest had been built to be the perfect marriage of speed and strength; not a master of either skill, but an expert in the use of both. There’d been a surprisingly small number who managed outrun him – Benoit led that pack by a mile – and he’d seen fit to narrow the bridge between him and those of greater strength through the suit he’d insisted on working with. Frankly, he’d succeeded spectacularly, and Benoit admit it because he gave credit where credit was due, but the problem with that son of a bitch was he knew he had done well. The arrogance he’d wielded through his tiny revelation devoured the talents that birthed it. He’d forgotten his place almost immediately after his first recommendation and from there had spiralled utterly out of control. There was an overwhelming sense of satisfaction in seeing him bottled up. It was fitting, and it was wholly deserved.
Idiot, idiot, idiot. The only use he would serve now would be as bait to lure Patten out of Jean, but the thought of some demonic smile-smirk hybrid haunting him for the rest of however long the A-1 insisted on hanging around almost made him gag. And it wouldn’t work. Seven feet with what Eric had now versus six feet for what Elias offered? It wasn’t a good trade. He wasn’t desperate enough to go for it if, as it stood, he dwarfed everyone around him.
Oh, the things Benoit had planned. The anticipation – he enjoyed it more than he thought possible. Playing it over and over in his mind would have him entertained for years. It was the least he could do. Again, for now.
“THERE YOU ARE.”
Shit.
Provided he survived this.
They weren’t far into their drive. By ‘not far’, Alex meant ‘they’d pulled out of parking and made the wheels move a little’, but every tree came from an acorn. That’s deep. And it was true. Now was as good a time as any to start walking on that thin ice again.
“... About... what happened...”
He stared right ahead. He was nowhere near Xander’s level of deception, and because that guy had already set the bar on how to talk pathetically – was Alex ever going to get to be in charge of his own life? – and he’d never be able to mimic it, it’d be best to just avoid looking at her altogether in case his ‘emotions’ didn’t match up or whatever. It normally wasn’t a problem and he had the I’m-A-Crazy-Person alibi, but now was not the time to risk pushing any buttons. Aside from the Rudy thing, he meant.
“I don’t know what the – uh... relationship is between you and...” This was the point of no return. “... you and Rudy. I don’t know if I want to know either, if it’s possible for anyone to explain. But I get that it’s... strong. Unbreakable, maybe – I mean... if I’m getting it right.” He probably wasn’t. He took a breath and tried to sound steadier through his voice. It wasn’t easy with Xander now at ‘eleven’. “Gwen had the same problem when we first met.” Wait. “With me, I mean. I did... well – I did a lot of stupid stuff. Nothing serious, nothing she couldn’t fix, but more than once I ran into one of them because I figured I could handle it or they wouldn’t come after me or... I don’t know. I guess a part of me figured if I didn’t believe in them, they’d go away. She had her hands full is what I’m trying to say.”
Not to hijack your conversation or anything, but I still have my hands full with you. It’s like you’ve got a death wish. Thirteen.
Ow, ow. It was like he’d hit his foot on a sharp corner but the shock didn’t fade right away – and when it did, it wasn’t by a lot.
“Anyway,” he went on, “if I can’t understand what’s going on with the two of you, I can at least appreciate how hard it’d be – minimum – to shake off. I know it won’t happen in a day. ... And I guess I – just... Well, Gwen’s gone and I see you making the same mistakes I did, so it’s not hard to figure out why I’d be on edge, even if – ow!”
Dude – what’d you expect? Fifteen.
“Go up by ones,” Alex hissed.
And drag it out? That’s gonna be worse.
“I told you not all at once,” he said, “and this goes right back to the band-aid thing: yes, it is possible to take it off painlessly if you try having some patience.”
Uh-huh. So – you plannin’ on storming the gates all by yourself ‘cause I won’t have time for my full rest or are you gonna stop being a bitch and let me do this?
“The first one,” he shot back.
Figured. To which I say, ‘seventeen’.
“Ow!”
Hey – I could make this go a lot faster! You’re lucky I’m being nice. ‘Nice’? Go back to your apology or whatever the hell that is.
Fine. And reluctantly, Alex admitted this wasn’t the time to worry about it. Only seventeen? Crap.
“Anyway,” he said for the second time, trying to ease back into his solemn tone, “I’m stressed, so when it comes to the more delicate truths in life – like...” He was trying to be careful with his wording, but how else could he say it? “... Rudy being an evil Agent bastard who kidnapped Gwen, I’m not in the best state of mind to explain it. So I’m sorry. I meant what I said, just... not how I said it, and I’m sorry.”
That was the best he could do. If it wasn’t enough, then it wasn’t possible for him to manage it.
Twenty.
“OW.”
This has officially become entertaining. Twenty-and-a-half. Pussy.
It’s not permanent.
His foot.
“Thanks, Doctor Xander.”
It might hurt real bad and it might be stiff for a while, but I don’t think it’s permanent.
“How long, exactly, is ‘a while’?”
... Umm...
“That’s what permanent means,” Alex muttered. “Good to know you gave me a keepsake. Glad to know I didn’t even have to ask.”
Can I rest now? I’m really tired.
“I know.” Whatever crazy, inhuman, masochistic endurance Xander’d grabbed from the Agency or just been born with, Alex was grateful for it. If he didn’t have it, and because asking him to control his fucking temper over a latte was out of the question, the guy would’ve worn out forever ago, and with the way Xander had been wearing out already... If anyone else’d been inserted inside his head, then ignoring the whole ‘you were the one who broke my foot, jerk’ reality, everyone would’ve been caught. And if that wasn’t enough, while in the midst of any other time Alex would’ve been left to handle his foot by himself, now that he was on the move, he couldn’t begin to describe how fortunate he was to have a maniac in his brain that at least carried some benefit. But – still, and he could not stress this enough, this was Xander’s fault in the first place. And Starbucks’. “How long?”
I want a full break. I’d like the whole ride down there... But Alex needed to be able to handle it. To be fair, you were standing before you pussied out and fainted. You’ll be sitting now.
That made a difference?
It’s better than nothing.
... Fair enough.
“But not all at once,” Alex said.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Xander was rolling in sincerity with that one. Then again, maybe he was being honest, because Alex wasn’t immediately crippled with the full force of his shattered limb. It was starting as a hollow ache instead. He wondered how long it’d take before all of it got thrown at him.
The trunk had slammed. Osono was walking back to the driver’s seat. He hadn’t said a whole lot to her since the – uh... ‘Rudy is a horrible person’ thing... but he was thankful for that, too. If even Xander hadn’t made a dent – at least a dent – in her anger over it, he needed all the time and Agents he could get to help her blow off steam. Now that it was over though, sitting on bad blood like this was only going to explode in his face if he didn’t handle it. Or try to, anyway.
Don’t look at me. And you’re at two percent. Goin’ on five.
His foot twitched. It didn’t help at all.
“Yeah. Charlton,” he said, trying to focus on her when she got in. “And... where in Charlton... is...”
Seven percent. Ow. Don’t ‘ow’ yet. You’ve got a lot to go. And just go to Charlton – anywhere’s fine.
“You don’t have the address?”
Not the exact address.
“Xan–” Cover. “Gwen. I thought you knew where you were going.”
There was a little huff and a blasé rehashing of the ‘eight years when it was really six’ crap before he officially answered, It’s why we’re bringin’ the Agent. She’ll know.
Alex might’ve had a better answer for why that was horrible logic based on nothing, but Xander said ‘nine’ and he got distracted.
“We’re – just... going to Charlton for now. Once we get there, we’ll worry about the exact location,” he said, reaching for the GPS. After a few buttons, he had it set on some store downtown. It’d put them in the heart of the city and they might even drive past the place. If it stuck out as sorely as the one in Elmira, it’d be all they needed. “Let’s hope our new Agent friend doesn’t mind the trip.”
* * *
Jason took it back: now the floodgates had opened. It wasn’t as if he’d deluded himself into thinking his lead was anything less than what the Agency wanted – borderline insane, and maybe beyond it a bit – but he still had to force himself not to take a step back when she grabbed onto him. He should’ve been used to it by now, but there it was: she was still a pro at unnerving him.
He tried not to say anything when she declared war on the planet, but it got harder as it went on. When they made it to the elevator and she started crying, he was torn between politely ignoring it and trying to help her. ‘Help her how’ was a minor detail he ended up not having to figure out, but it left its mark. He knew where he stood with an A-3, but where he stood with her was by far the most mind-numbingly annoying question he’d ever had to answer, and while he’d thought about it, she kept talking.
At first he assumed she meant him. He was the only one in there after all, and with the question over whether or not he’d stay with her until the end of this only recently resolved – as far as he knew – he’d logically decided her emotions – ha! – were getting to her and she’d simply forgotten. No, it didn’t hold up in front of what she was saying. There was too much weight in her words and he knew she wasn’t so attached to him that he’d be the target of it. In lieu of anything else to do, he fell back on his knowledge of the Agency hierarchy and didn’t press her. If she wanted to explain, she would have. If she wanted him to ask... Better safe than sorry. He shut up. And then she walked away and left him standing at the elevators.
What the hell was going on anymore? This was the hundredth time he’d mulled over it and he was even farther away from the explanation than he’d been in the beginning. It wasn’t this case that was doomed; it was him. ... And this case. They went hand in hand.
Ding!
The elevators ‘dinged’. Charlton had happy chimes to announce new arrivals but they couldn’t get new lights? And why had no one turned on any of the others? When the sun set, it’d be pitch black.
“Hiya, Jason!”
“Eric. Sir.” Jason gave a respectful nod of his head. He immediately choked on whatever other word he’d had bubbling up and took half a minute to breathe again. “Is that –”
“Look who I found downstairs! Gwen! And some other guy! Isn’t this exciting?”
Eric was positively delighted with this turn of events. Jason wasn’t sure if he should join in or be horrified. When had they arrived? Why were they passed out? Was – that...?
“Is he one of us?”
“Common sense says ‘yes’,” Eric sang. “Must be Rooty-roo. Would you take him to... the... uh... What’s the place you go to when you’re... not good?”
What was he talking about? And if it truly was Quin, what the fuck had happened to him?
Eric had Gwen – his target – sitting on his left arm and leaning against his neck the same way a child would with its parent, minus the ‘conscious’ part. Rudy, meanwhile, had been left to dangle under Eric’s right arm like a log or a newspaper. It wasn’t hard to see who had the priority in the A-1’s eyes and Jason had a fairly good feeling it was less to do with chivalry than anything else.
“Oh. Oh – the – uh... sick bay.”
“That’s it! Sick bay!” Eric said the name stiltedly, like he wasn’t too familiar with the term. It made sense. Thanks to his powers letting him dump any body he picked up and his Agency-issued lack of concern for anyone around him, he wouldn’t have much use for a place like that. “Take ‘im there, will ya? Just dump him in any ol’ corner – I’ll get to him when I can.”
“And...” He couldn’t believe it. She was here. “And her?”
“Stephie’s been looking frazzled,” Eric said, almost sympathetic. “I don’t want her hearing Gwen’s arrived and then running down the stairs and breaking her neck in a mad dash to see her. I’ll let these two meet up and then she can go to the...” He spaced out for a moment, long enough to carefully roll out the words. “... sick bay.”
“You’re taking her? Now?”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s more than frazzled,” Jason told him. “She’s... unravelling.” And that was the best case scenario.
“This’ll make her feel better!”
“Sir – I wouldn’t chance it. Anybody else and I’d wholeheartedly agree, but Stephanie –”
“Okay, okay. A-6s know best,” Eric trilled. “I’ll take them both to the... sick bay. How’s Xandy?”
‘Xandy’?
Right, him.
“The stasis cell has been unloaded and brought upstairs,” he reported. “I’m not sure about its final status, but Benoit went up with it. I’m sure it’s been handled.”
“Ah, geez. He’s with him alone? Look – take them,” Eric said, shoving Gwen into his arms and half-dropping Rudy on the floor. “I’ve gotta get up there.”
“Is something wrong?”
“He might’ve said his plan called for keeping Xander alive but he’ll switch it up on a dime.” The man was already walking away and calling back over his shoulder. “He’s a sensitive guy, that Benny. He’ll hold a grudge to the day he dies. Take care of ‘em, Jason!”
“Will do, sir,” he shouted back.
Alright, this he could do. He could manage this. Gwen rested limply in his arms, breathing but virtually dead. Those were not good adjectives to use with her, and if Rudy had had any sense, he would’ve shown up as a blank slate instead of painting himself in bruises to show what a pretty picture he could make out of his blood. His lead would probably go right for his throat. There was what Eric had promised on the plane, too. The stars were not shining in ‘Agent’ Quin’s future.
... Where the hell was the sick bay?
* * *
So.
They met again.
Circumstances had certainly changed. Improved, in some respects. For one, the man was not talking.
Benoit did not appreciate his forbiddance to stand in front of the stasis cell and gloat. That woman was stalking the entire floor, looking for him. Good God – if he had to put up with even another minute of that, he’d blow his own brains out before the seconds hit double-digits. Regardless, the room was bare enough to allow a clear view from his corner. Marshall Elias was a fine addition to the other four, his cell as red as the rest of them, painted lovingly as the traitor he was.
Idiot. The worst that would’ve happened was removing him from Alexander. The technology was new, undeniably, but re-transferring was a minor feat in comparison to everything else. All the man had to do was accept his failure and move on, which shouldn’t have been difficult considering how he’d ‘picked’, to put it lightly, through a hundred others. He had no respect for these people. It was disgraceful. Benoit was disgusted, but with the Agency’s decision more than the decidee. A dog was a dog – it couldn’t help what it was. Those in charge should have shown more insight in whom they deemed worthy of promotion to a lead. What on earth had they thought would happen?
He would have blamed the man’s nature as his fatal flaw; unfortunately, his nature was what led him to be a Pain Eater and Jean had been too worthy of a soul to share that one’s horridness. He was, in fact, was too worthy for many hands Fate had dealt him, and his latest tragedy was the worst blow of all. Benoit wasn’t even sure who to blame for it; both Eric and the fake Alexander had done their part, and as a result, he had to settle for hating them both. He was so sure in this, there was no blood to boil. Such a thing was beneath him anyway, as he prided himself on keeping a level head. Unfortunately, much of that meant he couldn’t dwell on what had happened to his friend. Not now, not when his hands were tied putting up the precious A-1.
That would change.
For now, he turned to the task at hand: getting Alexander-the-guest to prove himself as the selfish bastard he had always been. The beauty of being simple-minded was that he was easy to predict. Benoit had already guessed his movements. After he spent some time bragging about the front-and-centre placement of his cell, he would willingly waste his time commenting on the inane – likely ‘reminiscing’ over how wonderful it had been to be his original self, and if it was true, why in fuck would he waste everyone’s time with this nonsense – and then waste more time trying to work the transfer himself. He was already impatient over it. Benoit refused to strike until Alexander was in the process of separating. It was a narrow window thanks to the marvellous advancements made – he accepted that he owed some manner of gratitude to Patten – but the entire reason for his success was his impeccable agility. And dexterity. And reflexes. If it involved movement, he was in his element, and he took pride in knowing he was only an A-3 because he had refused to move up. He wanted this. The advantage he would gain was undeniable.
Once this was over, he was draining the cell and putting his cigarette out in the man’s eye. Alexander-the-guest wouldn’t be there to feel it, but it would make him happy.
Idiot. Absolutely an idiot.
That boy had no sense of severity in any situation. He’d hopped in his cell with the air of someone stupid in thinking they would be ‘out’ again in a year. Not so. And Elias had been told as much going in, though he chose to skip every other process if it meant hurrying things along. He’d been so eager to shove in everyone’s face how he had won and was going to rule the Agency on the back of Alexander’s gift. It was little things that pissed Benoit off the most: he had refused to cut his hair and now it bobbed around his head. It had been long enough to curl over his ears before he left, which had been yet another safety regulation he saw no reason to abide. Even his extremely-temporary-teammate saw fit to tie hers back – or at least she had until Patten showed up. The rest of the man was details that would have made a very useful Agent: six feet of height, strongly built, broad-shouldered and trained to forget pain. His face was obscured by the bulky mask in place to let him breathe through his suspension, but even so, his grating smirk didn’t have to be seen to irritate.
What a waste. Alexander-the-guest had been built to be the perfect marriage of speed and strength; not a master of either skill, but an expert in the use of both. There’d been a surprisingly small number who managed outrun him – Benoit led that pack by a mile – and he’d seen fit to narrow the bridge between him and those of greater strength through the suit he’d insisted on working with. Frankly, he’d succeeded spectacularly, and Benoit admit it because he gave credit where credit was due, but the problem with that son of a bitch was he knew he had done well. The arrogance he’d wielded through his tiny revelation devoured the talents that birthed it. He’d forgotten his place almost immediately after his first recommendation and from there had spiralled utterly out of control. There was an overwhelming sense of satisfaction in seeing him bottled up. It was fitting, and it was wholly deserved.
Idiot, idiot, idiot. The only use he would serve now would be as bait to lure Patten out of Jean, but the thought of some demonic smile-smirk hybrid haunting him for the rest of however long the A-1 insisted on hanging around almost made him gag. And it wouldn’t work. Seven feet with what Eric had now versus six feet for what Elias offered? It wasn’t a good trade. He wasn’t desperate enough to go for it if, as it stood, he dwarfed everyone around him.
Oh, the things Benoit had planned. The anticipation – he enjoyed it more than he thought possible. Playing it over and over in his mind would have him entertained for years. It was the least he could do. Again, for now.
“THERE YOU ARE.”
Shit.
Provided he survived this.
* * *
They weren’t far into their drive. By ‘not far’, Alex meant ‘they’d pulled out of parking and made the wheels move a little’, but every tree came from an acorn. That’s deep. And it was true. Now was as good a time as any to start walking on that thin ice again.
“... About... what happened...”
He stared right ahead. He was nowhere near Xander’s level of deception, and because that guy had already set the bar on how to talk pathetically – was Alex ever going to get to be in charge of his own life? – and he’d never be able to mimic it, it’d be best to just avoid looking at her altogether in case his ‘emotions’ didn’t match up or whatever. It normally wasn’t a problem and he had the I’m-A-Crazy-Person alibi, but now was not the time to risk pushing any buttons. Aside from the Rudy thing, he meant.
“I don’t know what the – uh... relationship is between you and...” This was the point of no return. “... you and Rudy. I don’t know if I want to know either, if it’s possible for anyone to explain. But I get that it’s... strong. Unbreakable, maybe – I mean... if I’m getting it right.” He probably wasn’t. He took a breath and tried to sound steadier through his voice. It wasn’t easy with Xander now at ‘eleven’. “Gwen had the same problem when we first met.” Wait. “With me, I mean. I did... well – I did a lot of stupid stuff. Nothing serious, nothing she couldn’t fix, but more than once I ran into one of them because I figured I could handle it or they wouldn’t come after me or... I don’t know. I guess a part of me figured if I didn’t believe in them, they’d go away. She had her hands full is what I’m trying to say.”
Not to hijack your conversation or anything, but I still have my hands full with you. It’s like you’ve got a death wish. Thirteen.
Ow, ow. It was like he’d hit his foot on a sharp corner but the shock didn’t fade right away – and when it did, it wasn’t by a lot.
“Anyway,” he went on, “if I can’t understand what’s going on with the two of you, I can at least appreciate how hard it’d be – minimum – to shake off. I know it won’t happen in a day. ... And I guess I – just... Well, Gwen’s gone and I see you making the same mistakes I did, so it’s not hard to figure out why I’d be on edge, even if – ow!”
Dude – what’d you expect? Fifteen.
“Go up by ones,” Alex hissed.
And drag it out? That’s gonna be worse.
“I told you not all at once,” he said, “and this goes right back to the band-aid thing: yes, it is possible to take it off painlessly if you try having some patience.”
Uh-huh. So – you plannin’ on storming the gates all by yourself ‘cause I won’t have time for my full rest or are you gonna stop being a bitch and let me do this?
“The first one,” he shot back.
Figured. To which I say, ‘seventeen’.
“Ow!”
Hey – I could make this go a lot faster! You’re lucky I’m being nice. ‘Nice’? Go back to your apology or whatever the hell that is.
Fine. And reluctantly, Alex admitted this wasn’t the time to worry about it. Only seventeen? Crap.
“Anyway,” he said for the second time, trying to ease back into his solemn tone, “I’m stressed, so when it comes to the more delicate truths in life – like...” He was trying to be careful with his wording, but how else could he say it? “... Rudy being an evil Agent bastard who kidnapped Gwen, I’m not in the best state of mind to explain it. So I’m sorry. I meant what I said, just... not how I said it, and I’m sorry.”
That was the best he could do. If it wasn’t enough, then it wasn’t possible for him to manage it.
Twenty.
“OW.”
This has officially become entertaining. Twenty-and-a-half. Pussy.
Last edited by Tartra on Fri Jul 29, 2011 7:50 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 Thu Dec 09, 2010 7:21 pm
Alright! Charlton! Yeah! This was it! Finally! After tagging along with the 'Swan Lake' reject on this little side quest, they were finally on track and ready to actually save Gwen. Looking at the GPS and what Alex punched into it, she realized they still had a little ways to go, but now there wouldn't be any derailing from the final course. This was it. Showdown time. And Osono was excited.
She was scared too, of course, but mostly excited. In all her dealings with Agents thus far, it'd mostly been in public places like restaurants, motels, shopping malls, parking lots, etc. They'd even cornered her on a freaking train one time. But there'd rarely ever been more than 8 or 10 diving at her at one time and if there was more then there was always open space at her back or an EXIT sign that led to freedom. All it took was an explosion or firewall and they were left with an empty spot once the smoke cleared. Those that didn't die, anyway.
But this was different. She'd be walking straight into the hive and there was no question that getting out would be a lot harder than getting in, especially if They were alerted to their presence while they were still inside. Which, the Agents no doubt would be with what they were planning to do - unless for some miracle reason They left Gwen unguarded. Ozzie was inexperienced with the inner workings of these people as it was, so she was going to assume that They were going to make it as hard as possible. If it ended up being easier, then that was great! But she wasn't going to expect nothing but the worst case scenarios to occur. Not knowing much about these people made that a little difficult to prepare for, and she was about to ask Alex if he knew anything that might help her fill in the blanks, but then the idiot started talking on his own.
And the first thing he said instantly put her on edge, especially when the name 'Rudy' came from between his lips. Defensive anger bristled within her, her hackles almost visibly raised as he continued to speak in that semi-uncertain tone of his and she gripped the steering wheel tightly to keep herself from punching him. She tried to focus on the road while he spoke, but it was a bit difficult as she reached new levels of rage with each passing second.
At mention of Gwen's name, she calmed a few notches, the red blurring her eyesight and the heat of violence filling her bones subsiding enough for her to actually hear him. But the presumptions and comparisons he was making had her on the edge of screaming at him. That feeling continued to boil inside of her, even when he stopped to talk to himself - or his internal version of Gwen or whatever the hell it was - and she took a bit of delight in the hisses and exclamations of pain that he was obviously still going through from the phantom pain assaulting his leg.
Hastily throwing together a plan of where she was going to dump his body once she was finished with him when he once again stated the fucking obvious about Rudy as if she were an idiot and didn't already know, she paused when he apologized. It didn't stop the train of wrath she was riding but it slowed it down considerably, especially when she understood what he was trying to do. Not attacking her again for liking Rudy - although there was a little bit of that - but rather attempting to make amends when he'd done that before. And as she let the anger inside simmer down enough that she was no longer gripping the steering wheel in an attempt to restrain herself, she also realized that he had been trying to explain why he'd said what he had. Because he was worried about Gwen. Just like she'd thought back when they were checking out of the hotel.
She could forgive him for that at least, because in a way, she understood. The reason she'd gotten so defensive about it in the first place was for similar reasons, this whole ordeal putting her on edge about whether or not they'd make it in time to help her friend or not. Ozzie wanted to keep telling herself that she wasn't going to accept failure. That no matter what, they were going to get her out of there. But the truth was she wasn't even sure they'd make it inside to find her still alive...or herself, if what Alex said they did to people like them was true.
Even though she sympathized and even appreciated his apology, she'd been perfectly fine before and would have loved him to death if he'd never fucking thought to mention the name Rudy ever again. He needed to know that and he needed to understand why, because apparently getting angry when he talked about Quin and threatening to burn his skin off when he did wasn't getting through to him. God forbid they needed to have this discussion for a third freaking time.
"Do you want to get freaking knifed?" she asked casually as if she were asking if he wanted to eat somewhere. She glanced at him with a very neutral expression before shrugging nonchalantly. "Because that's what it sounds like you're saying to me. ~'Please, Osono!'" she said in that same deep and stupid sounding voice from before. "'Cut me and fuck my shit up because I can't shut my stupid face!~" She shook her head and huffed an exhausted laugh, running a hand through her short hair which had dried plastered down on her skull instead of spiked up.
"Alright, since you wanna be dumb but you're at least making an attempt to not be a jerkwad about it, I'm gonna explain just a few quick little things to you. Just so that it's clear and you don't end up thinking 'Hmm, well maybe if I talk about him MORE she'll feel LESS like killing my stupid ass'. Because Alex, honey, that can't be further from the truth and it's not gonna change no matter how many fucking times you feel the need to bring up his name.
"It's no secret how I feel," she said soberly, not looking at him and still at this point not willing to say the actual words aloud. "And you were wrong earlier. There isn't anything better for me, alright? You call Rudy a sleazeball because he killed a guy and kidnapped Gwen. What about me? Who the fuck did you think you got into the car with? Do I look like a freaking angel to you? This thing with Gwen is the first time in years that I've actually attempted to do something to help someone else. That I've tried to do something other than actively hurting everyone I meet.
"And I want you to know how serious I am about it," she said defensively, realizing that it sounded a little bad that her one good deed was to correct something that was her fault to begin with. As she went on, a gravity entered her voice and she did not look away from the roadway in front of her, semi concentrating on driving. "When I say that I'll do anything to get her out of Their hands alive, I mean, I'll do anything. There's not a damn thing holding me back from causing a whole city to go up in flames if it means saving her."
She shrugged and gave him a look that very obviously articulated an apathy about the thought of causing such destruction and the death of thousands of people. It wasn't exactly true...because she DID hold a measure of guilt very close to her heart when it came to thinking about all the people she'd hurt over the years and how blindly selfish she'd been. But when it came time to make the decision on whether to act or not to act for a specific course, she did not hesitate about things like "lives will be lost". The end goal was what was important and that was what she meant to get across to Alex.
"And it makes me no better than Rudy just because I'm trying to save someone. So, please, don't compare the mess I've got with him to what you and Gwen have. It's not the same and there's no way you could possibly understand what it's like to be so alone in the world that you'd not only settle for the guy trying to kill you on a regular basis, but to actually be in love with him. I'm not going to apologize for the way I feel and you're not gonna convince me to give him up because I've got something better for my life or some idealized bullshit. I know what I am.
"So, just know that's the gist of it and shut the hell up or I'm gonna gut you like a fish, friend or no friend." Ozzie shrugged and smiled wryly at him to show him she was semi-joking about her threat and rolled her eyes. "We're fine. There's no need for more shit to come outta your mouth about it. The less you talk, the more I like you, and the more you talk about Rudy, the more I start to think your head might look good on a stick. Got it?" She looked at him for clarification, then nodded curtly. "Good. Now leave me alone and just let me drive. Listen to the god-dammed radio or take a freaking nap. I don't care."
She let out another breathless laugh and leaned on her hand against the window with one hand on the steering wheel.
Internally, she berated herself for her stupid explosion in front of Jason, silently mouthed curses leaving her lips without her seeming to notice or too weak to keep them inside. Telling herself she wasn't going to do that again, she shoved the illness and weight cracking on her shoulders away from herself and slipped her broken and weathered mask back into place. The EDP with it's comforting cold shield of emotionless allowed her to stand up straight again and breath in deeply without feeling like she was going to spit out her stomach. But even peripherally she was aware of the holes in it, emotion still present on her face as she slowly calmed herself down.
It was going to be alright. She just needed Gwen, that's all. She was going to be fine as soon as Gwen was here and in her grasp again, everything would be fixed. This body was the problem. Those awful memories that she thought she'd escaped were coming back to haunt her now for some reason and she was being forced to relive them. When she went through the body transfer process she would finally be able to discard this body and start fresh in brand new skin. She'd be free of these shackles the EDP put on her and she'd be free of that old pain. Hope filled her and steadied her as she turned into the hallway off the walkway, and she felt herself coasting through a haze while cocooned in the comfort of the Emotion Desensitization Program.
Walking back the way she'd gone with Jason before, she came upon the spot where the chubby subordinate still stood at his disciplined spot and immediately the EDP was discarded as her face brightened dramatically.
"Puppy!" she exclaimed happily, walking with an eager step towards him, coming to stand at his side. When he turned his eyes to look at her in obvious surprise with a mixture of what she assumed to be delight and trepidation, a girlish giggle left her lips. "Turn away from the wall and look at me. Talk to me." Her voice took on an almost childish tone as she tugged his sleeve with gentle fingers made tiny by the youthful gesture. Apparently, he took that for an order and obeyed and she smiled again, her green eyes twinkling in a friendly manner.
Then her face grew mockingly serious and almost sad as she pouted. "My target isn't here yet and I think the delivery boy may have killed her," she said in an exaggerated sad tone. But the sharp, sorrowful gasp that left her at the end of it was real, and for a moment her chin trembled before she could continue. When she did, her arms came out from her sides opening wide towards him in an inviting manner. "I need hugs."
Again, she pouted cutely, but when he seemed to hesitate - was he debating whether she was serious or was he just having difficulties coming to terms with the fact that she was asking him at all? - her expression instantly flashed into "adult Stephanie"/slightly irritable mode as she said, "Hug me right now, Pup!"
He hopped to her order then, and her face smoothed out calmly as she enveloped him in her arms like the huge teddy bear he was, her face resting over his right shoulder and not minding the greasy hair in her face nor the smell of nacho cheese something coming off of him. For a few moments, she let out a few more small tortured gasps, shuddering in his hold as he somewhat comfortingly - and awkwardly - rubbed her upper back. But finally she drew away and let out a long breath, seeming to come back to herself in more ways than one.
"Thank you," she said in a somewhat more subdued manner. "Things get a bit stressful around here from time to time... I really needed that." Remembering once again that Rudy had Gwen, she stifled the urge to hug him tightly once more and instead cleared her throat and tucked her hair behind her ears before saying, "I have a little job for you. Jason is stressed as well and my hugs don't really help. I was wondering, if you might be able to find some of those Oreo copy-cats that he likes and bring them to me. It's a small thing...but I think it'll make him happy if I gave them to him. Could you do that for me, Puppy?" Stephanie paused and gave him her prettiest smile then, while still ready to smack him down and order him to fetch those cookies if he were to say 'no' for whatever, inconsequential reason.
Parking the car, she turned to him and ignored the pained look he gave her - the big crybaby - and said, "Look, I haven't eaten anything since yesterday evening and that was fuckin' breadsticks at that stupid restaurant. I'm hungry and if I'm gonna be driving the whole way, I just need to grab something quick that I don't need to sit down while eating. I'll get ya somethin' if you want? And I need some cigarettes before I blow my brains out." She really did need all of those things and she knew even before she got out that she was going to need more time than that to do what she needed to do. But there was no way she'd ever tell him about it.
"I also need to take a tap a kidney," she added unabashedly, slipping on her army jacket and checking the money stuffed in her pocket. It was a lie but the bathroom break would be a good cover.
She was scared too, of course, but mostly excited. In all her dealings with Agents thus far, it'd mostly been in public places like restaurants, motels, shopping malls, parking lots, etc. They'd even cornered her on a freaking train one time. But there'd rarely ever been more than 8 or 10 diving at her at one time and if there was more then there was always open space at her back or an EXIT sign that led to freedom. All it took was an explosion or firewall and they were left with an empty spot once the smoke cleared. Those that didn't die, anyway.
But this was different. She'd be walking straight into the hive and there was no question that getting out would be a lot harder than getting in, especially if They were alerted to their presence while they were still inside. Which, the Agents no doubt would be with what they were planning to do - unless for some miracle reason They left Gwen unguarded. Ozzie was inexperienced with the inner workings of these people as it was, so she was going to assume that They were going to make it as hard as possible. If it ended up being easier, then that was great! But she wasn't going to expect nothing but the worst case scenarios to occur. Not knowing much about these people made that a little difficult to prepare for, and she was about to ask Alex if he knew anything that might help her fill in the blanks, but then the idiot started talking on his own.
And the first thing he said instantly put her on edge, especially when the name 'Rudy' came from between his lips. Defensive anger bristled within her, her hackles almost visibly raised as he continued to speak in that semi-uncertain tone of his and she gripped the steering wheel tightly to keep herself from punching him. She tried to focus on the road while he spoke, but it was a bit difficult as she reached new levels of rage with each passing second.
At mention of Gwen's name, she calmed a few notches, the red blurring her eyesight and the heat of violence filling her bones subsiding enough for her to actually hear him. But the presumptions and comparisons he was making had her on the edge of screaming at him. That feeling continued to boil inside of her, even when he stopped to talk to himself - or his internal version of Gwen or whatever the hell it was - and she took a bit of delight in the hisses and exclamations of pain that he was obviously still going through from the phantom pain assaulting his leg.
Hastily throwing together a plan of where she was going to dump his body once she was finished with him when he once again stated the fucking obvious about Rudy as if she were an idiot and didn't already know, she paused when he apologized. It didn't stop the train of wrath she was riding but it slowed it down considerably, especially when she understood what he was trying to do. Not attacking her again for liking Rudy - although there was a little bit of that - but rather attempting to make amends when he'd done that before. And as she let the anger inside simmer down enough that she was no longer gripping the steering wheel in an attempt to restrain herself, she also realized that he had been trying to explain why he'd said what he had. Because he was worried about Gwen. Just like she'd thought back when they were checking out of the hotel.
She could forgive him for that at least, because in a way, she understood. The reason she'd gotten so defensive about it in the first place was for similar reasons, this whole ordeal putting her on edge about whether or not they'd make it in time to help her friend or not. Ozzie wanted to keep telling herself that she wasn't going to accept failure. That no matter what, they were going to get her out of there. But the truth was she wasn't even sure they'd make it inside to find her still alive...or herself, if what Alex said they did to people like them was true.
Even though she sympathized and even appreciated his apology, she'd been perfectly fine before and would have loved him to death if he'd never fucking thought to mention the name Rudy ever again. He needed to know that and he needed to understand why, because apparently getting angry when he talked about Quin and threatening to burn his skin off when he did wasn't getting through to him. God forbid they needed to have this discussion for a third freaking time.
"Do you want to get freaking knifed?" she asked casually as if she were asking if he wanted to eat somewhere. She glanced at him with a very neutral expression before shrugging nonchalantly. "Because that's what it sounds like you're saying to me. ~'Please, Osono!'" she said in that same deep and stupid sounding voice from before. "'Cut me and fuck my shit up because I can't shut my stupid face!~" She shook her head and huffed an exhausted laugh, running a hand through her short hair which had dried plastered down on her skull instead of spiked up.
"Alright, since you wanna be dumb but you're at least making an attempt to not be a jerkwad about it, I'm gonna explain just a few quick little things to you. Just so that it's clear and you don't end up thinking 'Hmm, well maybe if I talk about him MORE she'll feel LESS like killing my stupid ass'. Because Alex, honey, that can't be further from the truth and it's not gonna change no matter how many fucking times you feel the need to bring up his name.
"It's no secret how I feel," she said soberly, not looking at him and still at this point not willing to say the actual words aloud. "And you were wrong earlier. There isn't anything better for me, alright? You call Rudy a sleazeball because he killed a guy and kidnapped Gwen. What about me? Who the fuck did you think you got into the car with? Do I look like a freaking angel to you? This thing with Gwen is the first time in years that I've actually attempted to do something to help someone else. That I've tried to do something other than actively hurting everyone I meet.
"And I want you to know how serious I am about it," she said defensively, realizing that it sounded a little bad that her one good deed was to correct something that was her fault to begin with. As she went on, a gravity entered her voice and she did not look away from the roadway in front of her, semi concentrating on driving. "When I say that I'll do anything to get her out of Their hands alive, I mean, I'll do anything. There's not a damn thing holding me back from causing a whole city to go up in flames if it means saving her."
She shrugged and gave him a look that very obviously articulated an apathy about the thought of causing such destruction and the death of thousands of people. It wasn't exactly true...because she DID hold a measure of guilt very close to her heart when it came to thinking about all the people she'd hurt over the years and how blindly selfish she'd been. But when it came time to make the decision on whether to act or not to act for a specific course, she did not hesitate about things like "lives will be lost". The end goal was what was important and that was what she meant to get across to Alex.
"And it makes me no better than Rudy just because I'm trying to save someone. So, please, don't compare the mess I've got with him to what you and Gwen have. It's not the same and there's no way you could possibly understand what it's like to be so alone in the world that you'd not only settle for the guy trying to kill you on a regular basis, but to actually be in love with him. I'm not going to apologize for the way I feel and you're not gonna convince me to give him up because I've got something better for my life or some idealized bullshit. I know what I am.
"So, just know that's the gist of it and shut the hell up or I'm gonna gut you like a fish, friend or no friend." Ozzie shrugged and smiled wryly at him to show him she was semi-joking about her threat and rolled her eyes. "We're fine. There's no need for more shit to come outta your mouth about it. The less you talk, the more I like you, and the more you talk about Rudy, the more I start to think your head might look good on a stick. Got it?" She looked at him for clarification, then nodded curtly. "Good. Now leave me alone and just let me drive. Listen to the god-dammed radio or take a freaking nap. I don't care."
She let out another breathless laugh and leaned on her hand against the window with one hand on the steering wheel.
***
Leaving Jason's presence before had been a relief because of the pressure of her desires weighing upon her. Leaving him behind now after that felt like torture with every step. Even so, as she lamented over the little scene she'd made in the elevator, Stephanie had trouble focusing on it as pain once again coursed through her body. At the top of the stairs back on the upper walkway, she leaned against the railing and closed her eyes trying to catch her breath and feeling like she'd run a thousand miles.Internally, she berated herself for her stupid explosion in front of Jason, silently mouthed curses leaving her lips without her seeming to notice or too weak to keep them inside. Telling herself she wasn't going to do that again, she shoved the illness and weight cracking on her shoulders away from herself and slipped her broken and weathered mask back into place. The EDP with it's comforting cold shield of emotionless allowed her to stand up straight again and breath in deeply without feeling like she was going to spit out her stomach. But even peripherally she was aware of the holes in it, emotion still present on her face as she slowly calmed herself down.
It was going to be alright. She just needed Gwen, that's all. She was going to be fine as soon as Gwen was here and in her grasp again, everything would be fixed. This body was the problem. Those awful memories that she thought she'd escaped were coming back to haunt her now for some reason and she was being forced to relive them. When she went through the body transfer process she would finally be able to discard this body and start fresh in brand new skin. She'd be free of these shackles the EDP put on her and she'd be free of that old pain. Hope filled her and steadied her as she turned into the hallway off the walkway, and she felt herself coasting through a haze while cocooned in the comfort of the Emotion Desensitization Program.
Walking back the way she'd gone with Jason before, she came upon the spot where the chubby subordinate still stood at his disciplined spot and immediately the EDP was discarded as her face brightened dramatically.
"Puppy!" she exclaimed happily, walking with an eager step towards him, coming to stand at his side. When he turned his eyes to look at her in obvious surprise with a mixture of what she assumed to be delight and trepidation, a girlish giggle left her lips. "Turn away from the wall and look at me. Talk to me." Her voice took on an almost childish tone as she tugged his sleeve with gentle fingers made tiny by the youthful gesture. Apparently, he took that for an order and obeyed and she smiled again, her green eyes twinkling in a friendly manner.
Then her face grew mockingly serious and almost sad as she pouted. "My target isn't here yet and I think the delivery boy may have killed her," she said in an exaggerated sad tone. But the sharp, sorrowful gasp that left her at the end of it was real, and for a moment her chin trembled before she could continue. When she did, her arms came out from her sides opening wide towards him in an inviting manner. "I need hugs."
Again, she pouted cutely, but when he seemed to hesitate - was he debating whether she was serious or was he just having difficulties coming to terms with the fact that she was asking him at all? - her expression instantly flashed into "adult Stephanie"/slightly irritable mode as she said, "Hug me right now, Pup!"
He hopped to her order then, and her face smoothed out calmly as she enveloped him in her arms like the huge teddy bear he was, her face resting over his right shoulder and not minding the greasy hair in her face nor the smell of nacho cheese something coming off of him. For a few moments, she let out a few more small tortured gasps, shuddering in his hold as he somewhat comfortingly - and awkwardly - rubbed her upper back. But finally she drew away and let out a long breath, seeming to come back to herself in more ways than one.
"Thank you," she said in a somewhat more subdued manner. "Things get a bit stressful around here from time to time... I really needed that." Remembering once again that Rudy had Gwen, she stifled the urge to hug him tightly once more and instead cleared her throat and tucked her hair behind her ears before saying, "I have a little job for you. Jason is stressed as well and my hugs don't really help. I was wondering, if you might be able to find some of those Oreo copy-cats that he likes and bring them to me. It's a small thing...but I think it'll make him happy if I gave them to him. Could you do that for me, Puppy?" Stephanie paused and gave him her prettiest smile then, while still ready to smack him down and order him to fetch those cookies if he were to say 'no' for whatever, inconsequential reason.
***
"I need to stop," she said suddenly as they started nearing the highway. Coming up alongside one of the last gas stations, Ozzie turned into the parking lot without asking him about it more. Something else had entered her mind after her little chat with Alex and it had been bothering her for the past several minutes. There was something very final about this mission they were about to embark on, a kind of live or die ending on the horizon. That, mixed with her small mention of her terrible past had her actually remembering the things she'd left behind and she had the urge to do something before they went any further.Parking the car, she turned to him and ignored the pained look he gave her - the big crybaby - and said, "Look, I haven't eaten anything since yesterday evening and that was fuckin' breadsticks at that stupid restaurant. I'm hungry and if I'm gonna be driving the whole way, I just need to grab something quick that I don't need to sit down while eating. I'll get ya somethin' if you want? And I need some cigarettes before I blow my brains out." She really did need all of those things and she knew even before she got out that she was going to need more time than that to do what she needed to do. But there was no way she'd ever tell him about it.
"I also need to take a tap a kidney," she added unabashedly, slipping on her army jacket and checking the money stuffed in her pocket. It was a lie but the bathroom break would be a good cover.
Last edited by TimeOfTheEye on Tue Jul 19, 2011 12:48 am; edited 1 time in total
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Tue Dec 21, 2010 2:10 am
He’d been tensely waiting for another answer that would’ve made sticking his neck out to apologize worth it. By the time they stopped and she started getting out of the car, he realized it wasn’t coming. So what the hell did that mean? Everything was as crappy as it’d been since yesterday except now he’d been raised to a level where she didn’t actively look for something to stab him with instead of turning the car around to find one? Thanks a lot, Osono. It was wonderful hearing the only reason she had for not ‘knifing’ –
“Get me a bottle, diapers and a handful of Nyquil.” But hey, if it’s your period that’s making you cry, we can always get you tampons. “And food! Something with meat in it. And candy. Like... a lot.”
He wasn’t hungry.
Don’t care.
“I don’t know how much longer I can take this,” Alex muttered. He’d waited for her to go before he opened his mouth – she didn’t want to hear him and he wasn’t keen on chatting with her, either – so now I’m stuck with it. “Why don’t you talk to her? You’re having more luck than I am.”
Probably ‘cause I’m not whining about how mean she is every five minutes. I’m gonna put your hair in pigtails.
“I’m being serious. If you’re not watching my foot, handle her. There’s a noticeable lift in her fucking attitude whenever you step in.”
Punching Alex in the Face: I swear it’d end a war the way it brings people together. Twenty-four.
Alex sucked in a sharp breath that turned his entire body rigid. He let it out once the jolt passed, but he didn’t relax. The one bright spot in her stopping and wasting even more time was that he was able to keep his foot still. Outside of the short releases of control, it was dead and silent. Every muscle in his toes sat waiting for the first hint of permission to move, and he knew when they did, they’d strike up a fury of Hell through his leg, so he was grateful they were at one place long enough for him to lull his sizzling nerves to sleep.
“She should’ve eaten at the restaurant.” He could practically feel Xander hovering over his shoulder in there. “You’re not getting a ‘thank you’.”
Twenty-seven.
A few minutes passed as they sat they sat there. A few seconds after that and he got anxious.
“... How long is she gonna be in there?”
They haven’t done the transfer.
“You don’t know for sure.”
I do. Xander and his ‘theory’. It freaked Alex out when he tried to go over what the guy could’ve possibly pieced together to come up with it, but in light of this new pit stop, it was better than just crossing his fingers. Still... She’s probably gonna be a while.
“What? Why?”
Settle down. I’ll get her if she’s a twenty minute no-show but give her some time. Give her ‘time’? Unless you wanna hurry her along. Goodness knows you’ve been having oodles of luck so far.
That didn’t take Alex off the high-alert he was suddenly on. The quick call to attention in his mind went straight to his foot, too. A toe twitched or a piece of dust landed on it – didn’t matter – it was spasming and screaming and curling into itself –
Aaaaaand now we’re back to ten. Nice job. Maybe we should get you to a doctor.
“You think?”
You’re right. Dumb idea, Xander said. Eighteen.
Eight–
Stop moving your foot, he scolded. I’m tired. This has to pick up. I can’t keep babying you.
Alex couldn’t spare the breath he needed to point out the obvious in that one. Instead, through his panicking gasps, he shot out, ““Why is she going to be a while? What’s so hard about getting food and going the bathroom?”
I think she’s up to something else. She kind’f had an air around her...
“What sort of ‘air’?”
An ‘I’m up to something else’ one.
“That isn’t what I meant,” he snapped. “Is she trying to kill someone, is she trying to rob someone –”
I think the order in which you placed those is the most telling feature of your partnership with her.
Alex craned his next at the gas station. There was nothing special about it: big windows, chips and pop and all that other crap, a few other travellers crammed inside and a highway of cars storming the pumps on the side. The bathroom was inside of there and had to be off to the left because he didn’t see any sign of her and that was the only part of the small building without something to look through.
“Twenty minutes is too long,” he mumbled.
Give her ten to come back in view.
“Then what?”
You two can have another conversation, Xander said. If you’re bored of bringing up Rudy every other word, maybe you can lecture her on smoking this time. That’ll go over even better.
... That wasn’t a half-bad idea. He hated the smell.
And you blame me for not having friends.
“I had friends before you showed up,” Alex told him, settling into his seat. “Ten minutes. Then we go inside.”
Jason had a hard time getting them to the sick bay. The problem came from trying to decide who to take first. If he brought his target, he risked the shockingly rat-face pseudo-Agent waking up and running off to rub his target’s arrival in everyone’s face. If he brought Quin, however, it meant Gwendolyn Stewart, the entire reason their small team was here, would be left in the hallway to be found by a) someone random, b) Gary or another fool who’d go giddy over it, c) Alexander and whatever pile of Rescue Rangers he’d pulled together or d) his lead. That was by far at the bottom of his list of things that’d keep him alive until tomorrow, no matter what the hell had been going on, and although he was a little loathe to admit it, he was almost grateful she’d taken such an interest in Eric. With the A-1 up there, prowling around with a feast of cookies and whatever else in those eternal pockets, she’d be too distracted to leave his side and wander down here. In the face of that, he’d probably be in the clear.
Pros and cons. Gwendolyn Stewart was the flight risk but she’d have to stumble around for a minute or two before she realized the door was over there. It was still bright outside and that didn’t help, but although the bodies of the Agents Frenchie had quietly dispatched had vanished, the blood slicks hadn’t left. She could always slip on those, fall again and knock herself back out. If she was stupid enough to run around with Alexander... Quin was only a problem because Jason didn’t want his lead to know yet. If he woke up, he’d lose himself in the maze of this place looking for her and the clock of how long everyone had before some gigantic reaction let loose would immediately begin counting down. This needed to be broken to her gently. All that... crying... and the way she’d been acting... If they wanted her sanity intact, she’d have to be eased into everything until the transfer. He would show her Gwen was here, not report it and have her run down in a panic. Eric was right about that and Jason was not about to forget it.
All of this, however, was ignoring one obvious solution: that he take them at the same time. But he didn’t have a cart or anything and there was no way in hell he could care them both. He wasn’t that strong. He looked bigger than he was.
“Quin.” He nudged the little Agent with his foot. No reaction. “Quin!”
The longer Gwen stayed asleep, the better. They didn’t have any serious equipment – none he knew about – for handling her powers if she woke up. Another reason for him to tell his lead, but one thing at a time.
Okay. He was picking her up. She wasn’t too heavy in his arms but he’d never liked carrying anything, from a plate to a couch. This would’ve been a lot worse if she’d been struggling. Thanks for that, Quin, you target-swapping midget. And as for the midget...
This was the greatest day of his life and any past life he or anyone else on the planet could’ve had. Gary’s head was gonna explode and nobody, not even Diana, was going to take this moment away from him.
“I will find you those cookies,” he announced. “I will find them and I will wash them and I will paint them gold and I will stuff them down Jason’s throat the very second he tries weaselling out of it!”
AND HE WOULD. Both of them – Jason was crazy like that, always tryin’ to push that stuff off like he was too good for it and then diving at ‘em like they were crack the minute they were laid out, but if he tried running away because ‘I’m a professional, Gary!’, then Gary was grabbing ten boxes and making him eat every single one. That’s what Stephanie March wanted? That was what he would do!
“I’m loving the enthusiasm from this little corner!” OH MY GOD ERIC PATTEN WAS BACK. “I feel so pumped – and I don’t even know what you kids are talkin’ about! It’s great!”
“I ate your pocket cookie!”
Silence.
Long silence.
Even more silence after that.
There, in that hall, Gary stood face-to-face with Stephanie March and Eric Patten, and they said nothing. They said nothing! They stared at him and – ohgodohgod – oh shit, oh God – they probably thought he was so screwed in the head for even talking to them! Answering Stephanie March – Stephanie March! – after she finished telling him to do something was completely and totally different from taking one look at the A fucking 1 and screaming in his face that Gary just devoured the most precious gift he’d ever been given or would ever be given again in his life! Yeah, yeah, the wedding rings...
“Well...” ERIC PATTEN WAS TALKING OH GOD OH GOD WHAT WOULD HE SAY? “You were sort of supposed to.”
He was?
“And I did it with pride, sir!” Retroactively. “I am honoured to contribute anything and everything to further the mission of our great Agency!”
“I’m a second away from making this guy an A-2,” Eric said. And then he laughed – and it was the most glorious sound Gary had ever heard. He loved these people. He loved all of them. Jason was great and everything, but these people... How in hell could anyone not go bananas over getting to work with them? He’d give up his left eye if it meant he could join! Jason was so ungrateful. “To the cells? Benny and Xander – not a good mix. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up.”
He was walking off. But... but he hadn’t said who he wanted to come with him. Well – Gary sure as fuck wasn’t passing this up! It was his life’s mission to get Stephanie those cookies, but if she’d be okay with waiting for just a minute more...
“Agent Stephanie March?” Her name! Her name had come out of his mouth and it was amazing! He felt like such a top employee! He should get pictures of this. He should get autographs! “I’m – definitely – don’t even think I’m not – ‘cause I will, I promise – but I want to – uh... see the jars... of people...”
“Everyone can see the jars of people! That’s what they’re there for! Party in the jar room, children!”
Gary could’ve collapsed, but that would’ve meant he couldn’t go see them. And Eric was already gone – disappeared, half-rushing to get wherever he was going – so it was him and Stephanie in the hall again.
“Agent Stephanie March,” he valiantly repeated, offering his arm to her. “I would be absolutely, exceptionally delighted if you’d let me escort you to the jar room. In case the hugs weren’t enough – and Jason would punch my face in if I said anything else. So would my wife. Can I walk with you?”
If she wanted him to crawl, he would crawl. Heck, he’d’ve let her ride on his back if it wasn’t so wonky every now and then.
“Just keep her contained,” Jason said, moving his hands around like the answer would magically pop out of his palms. “If she wakes up... drug her. Do whatever you can to keep her quiet and unfocused. The whole of her strength comes from concentrating. Keep that under control and you’ll be okay.”
“I’ve never done this before,” the A-8 said. “I didn’t even realize these people were real.”
“Tell me about it.” They’d done nothing but cause trouble for him. “But it can’t be too hard. Can you do this?”
The A-8 looked at his unconscious target, shrugged her shoulders, then pulled out a syringe.
“I’ll try.”
“Thanks. And – please, for everyone’s sake...” He limply waved at the bruises on her. “Could you...?”
“I’ll try.”
“Thanks,” he said again.
Now he was off to scrape the other lump off the ground, quickly leaving the too-white sick bay behind with nothing but heavy straps keeping his target chained to a bed. The little bastard better not’ve moved or – so help him – Jason would pound him into the ground.
“Get me a bottle, diapers and a handful of Nyquil.” But hey, if it’s your period that’s making you cry, we can always get you tampons. “And food! Something with meat in it. And candy. Like... a lot.”
He wasn’t hungry.
Don’t care.
“I don’t know how much longer I can take this,” Alex muttered. He’d waited for her to go before he opened his mouth – she didn’t want to hear him and he wasn’t keen on chatting with her, either – so now I’m stuck with it. “Why don’t you talk to her? You’re having more luck than I am.”
Probably ‘cause I’m not whining about how mean she is every five minutes. I’m gonna put your hair in pigtails.
“I’m being serious. If you’re not watching my foot, handle her. There’s a noticeable lift in her fucking attitude whenever you step in.”
Punching Alex in the Face: I swear it’d end a war the way it brings people together. Twenty-four.
Alex sucked in a sharp breath that turned his entire body rigid. He let it out once the jolt passed, but he didn’t relax. The one bright spot in her stopping and wasting even more time was that he was able to keep his foot still. Outside of the short releases of control, it was dead and silent. Every muscle in his toes sat waiting for the first hint of permission to move, and he knew when they did, they’d strike up a fury of Hell through his leg, so he was grateful they were at one place long enough for him to lull his sizzling nerves to sleep.
“She should’ve eaten at the restaurant.” He could practically feel Xander hovering over his shoulder in there. “You’re not getting a ‘thank you’.”
Twenty-seven.
A few minutes passed as they sat they sat there. A few seconds after that and he got anxious.
“... How long is she gonna be in there?”
They haven’t done the transfer.
“You don’t know for sure.”
I do. Xander and his ‘theory’. It freaked Alex out when he tried to go over what the guy could’ve possibly pieced together to come up with it, but in light of this new pit stop, it was better than just crossing his fingers. Still... She’s probably gonna be a while.
“What? Why?”
Settle down. I’ll get her if she’s a twenty minute no-show but give her some time. Give her ‘time’? Unless you wanna hurry her along. Goodness knows you’ve been having oodles of luck so far.
That didn’t take Alex off the high-alert he was suddenly on. The quick call to attention in his mind went straight to his foot, too. A toe twitched or a piece of dust landed on it – didn’t matter – it was spasming and screaming and curling into itself –
Aaaaaand now we’re back to ten. Nice job. Maybe we should get you to a doctor.
“You think?”
You’re right. Dumb idea, Xander said. Eighteen.
Eight–
Stop moving your foot, he scolded. I’m tired. This has to pick up. I can’t keep babying you.
Alex couldn’t spare the breath he needed to point out the obvious in that one. Instead, through his panicking gasps, he shot out, ““Why is she going to be a while? What’s so hard about getting food and going the bathroom?”
I think she’s up to something else. She kind’f had an air around her...
“What sort of ‘air’?”
An ‘I’m up to something else’ one.
“That isn’t what I meant,” he snapped. “Is she trying to kill someone, is she trying to rob someone –”
I think the order in which you placed those is the most telling feature of your partnership with her.
Alex craned his next at the gas station. There was nothing special about it: big windows, chips and pop and all that other crap, a few other travellers crammed inside and a highway of cars storming the pumps on the side. The bathroom was inside of there and had to be off to the left because he didn’t see any sign of her and that was the only part of the small building without something to look through.
“Twenty minutes is too long,” he mumbled.
Give her ten to come back in view.
“Then what?”
You two can have another conversation, Xander said. If you’re bored of bringing up Rudy every other word, maybe you can lecture her on smoking this time. That’ll go over even better.
... That wasn’t a half-bad idea. He hated the smell.
And you blame me for not having friends.
“I had friends before you showed up,” Alex told him, settling into his seat. “Ten minutes. Then we go inside.”
* * *
Jason had a hard time getting them to the sick bay. The problem came from trying to decide who to take first. If he brought his target, he risked the shockingly rat-face pseudo-Agent waking up and running off to rub his target’s arrival in everyone’s face. If he brought Quin, however, it meant Gwendolyn Stewart, the entire reason their small team was here, would be left in the hallway to be found by a) someone random, b) Gary or another fool who’d go giddy over it, c) Alexander and whatever pile of Rescue Rangers he’d pulled together or d) his lead. That was by far at the bottom of his list of things that’d keep him alive until tomorrow, no matter what the hell had been going on, and although he was a little loathe to admit it, he was almost grateful she’d taken such an interest in Eric. With the A-1 up there, prowling around with a feast of cookies and whatever else in those eternal pockets, she’d be too distracted to leave his side and wander down here. In the face of that, he’d probably be in the clear.
Pros and cons. Gwendolyn Stewart was the flight risk but she’d have to stumble around for a minute or two before she realized the door was over there. It was still bright outside and that didn’t help, but although the bodies of the Agents Frenchie had quietly dispatched had vanished, the blood slicks hadn’t left. She could always slip on those, fall again and knock herself back out. If she was stupid enough to run around with Alexander... Quin was only a problem because Jason didn’t want his lead to know yet. If he woke up, he’d lose himself in the maze of this place looking for her and the clock of how long everyone had before some gigantic reaction let loose would immediately begin counting down. This needed to be broken to her gently. All that... crying... and the way she’d been acting... If they wanted her sanity intact, she’d have to be eased into everything until the transfer. He would show her Gwen was here, not report it and have her run down in a panic. Eric was right about that and Jason was not about to forget it.
All of this, however, was ignoring one obvious solution: that he take them at the same time. But he didn’t have a cart or anything and there was no way in hell he could care them both. He wasn’t that strong. He looked bigger than he was.
“Quin.” He nudged the little Agent with his foot. No reaction. “Quin!”
The longer Gwen stayed asleep, the better. They didn’t have any serious equipment – none he knew about – for handling her powers if she woke up. Another reason for him to tell his lead, but one thing at a time.
Okay. He was picking her up. She wasn’t too heavy in his arms but he’d never liked carrying anything, from a plate to a couch. This would’ve been a lot worse if she’d been struggling. Thanks for that, Quin, you target-swapping midget. And as for the midget...
* * *
This was the greatest day of his life and any past life he or anyone else on the planet could’ve had. Gary’s head was gonna explode and nobody, not even Diana, was going to take this moment away from him.
“I will find you those cookies,” he announced. “I will find them and I will wash them and I will paint them gold and I will stuff them down Jason’s throat the very second he tries weaselling out of it!”
AND HE WOULD. Both of them – Jason was crazy like that, always tryin’ to push that stuff off like he was too good for it and then diving at ‘em like they were crack the minute they were laid out, but if he tried running away because ‘I’m a professional, Gary!’, then Gary was grabbing ten boxes and making him eat every single one. That’s what Stephanie March wanted? That was what he would do!
“I’m loving the enthusiasm from this little corner!” OH MY GOD ERIC PATTEN WAS BACK. “I feel so pumped – and I don’t even know what you kids are talkin’ about! It’s great!”
“I ate your pocket cookie!”
Silence.
Long silence.
Even more silence after that.
There, in that hall, Gary stood face-to-face with Stephanie March and Eric Patten, and they said nothing. They said nothing! They stared at him and – ohgodohgod – oh shit, oh God – they probably thought he was so screwed in the head for even talking to them! Answering Stephanie March – Stephanie March! – after she finished telling him to do something was completely and totally different from taking one look at the A fucking 1 and screaming in his face that Gary just devoured the most precious gift he’d ever been given or would ever be given again in his life! Yeah, yeah, the wedding rings...
“Well...” ERIC PATTEN WAS TALKING OH GOD OH GOD WHAT WOULD HE SAY? “You were sort of supposed to.”
He was?
“And I did it with pride, sir!” Retroactively. “I am honoured to contribute anything and everything to further the mission of our great Agency!”
“I’m a second away from making this guy an A-2,” Eric said. And then he laughed – and it was the most glorious sound Gary had ever heard. He loved these people. He loved all of them. Jason was great and everything, but these people... How in hell could anyone not go bananas over getting to work with them? He’d give up his left eye if it meant he could join! Jason was so ungrateful. “To the cells? Benny and Xander – not a good mix. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up.”
He was walking off. But... but he hadn’t said who he wanted to come with him. Well – Gary sure as fuck wasn’t passing this up! It was his life’s mission to get Stephanie those cookies, but if she’d be okay with waiting for just a minute more...
“Agent Stephanie March?” Her name! Her name had come out of his mouth and it was amazing! He felt like such a top employee! He should get pictures of this. He should get autographs! “I’m – definitely – don’t even think I’m not – ‘cause I will, I promise – but I want to – uh... see the jars... of people...”
“Everyone can see the jars of people! That’s what they’re there for! Party in the jar room, children!”
Gary could’ve collapsed, but that would’ve meant he couldn’t go see them. And Eric was already gone – disappeared, half-rushing to get wherever he was going – so it was him and Stephanie in the hall again.
“Agent Stephanie March,” he valiantly repeated, offering his arm to her. “I would be absolutely, exceptionally delighted if you’d let me escort you to the jar room. In case the hugs weren’t enough – and Jason would punch my face in if I said anything else. So would my wife. Can I walk with you?”
If she wanted him to crawl, he would crawl. Heck, he’d’ve let her ride on his back if it wasn’t so wonky every now and then.
* * *
“Just keep her contained,” Jason said, moving his hands around like the answer would magically pop out of his palms. “If she wakes up... drug her. Do whatever you can to keep her quiet and unfocused. The whole of her strength comes from concentrating. Keep that under control and you’ll be okay.”
“I’ve never done this before,” the A-8 said. “I didn’t even realize these people were real.”
“Tell me about it.” They’d done nothing but cause trouble for him. “But it can’t be too hard. Can you do this?”
The A-8 looked at his unconscious target, shrugged her shoulders, then pulled out a syringe.
“I’ll try.”
“Thanks. And – please, for everyone’s sake...” He limply waved at the bruises on her. “Could you...?”
“I’ll try.”
“Thanks,” he said again.
Now he was off to scrape the other lump off the ground, quickly leaving the too-white sick bay behind with nothing but heavy straps keeping his target chained to a bed. The little bastard better not’ve moved or – so help him – Jason would pound him into the ground.
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Tue Dec 21, 2010 10:54 pm
A smirk danced on her lips as he listed off a few things that made her do a small double-take and scrunch up her nose in amusement. He was joking, of course, but it didn't seem like Alex to make a joke like that at his own expense. Especially not when he was basically calling himself a big baby, which, she had to agree with him about. It was an odd thing but it got her to half-smile as Osono set her feet onto the pavement and heard him rattle off a few things which she took as a more "realistic" list. Nodding curtly, she slammed the door and walked up to the little gas station mini mart, shaking her head about what he'd said. Most of the time she hated Alex, but sometimes...he was a funny little dude. Weird and crazy as shit, but funny.
As she approached the clear front doors entering behind a man who did not hold them open for her, she immediately pushed Alex and his weirdness out of her head. Quickly, she looked around the small place and found the bathrooms in a small hallway on the west end of the establishment. And right between the different gendered doors, nestled against the wall within a small three sided box, was exactly what she needed.
Standing at the mouth of the small corridor she got on her tip-toes, glancing back the way she came and out the front windows, craning her neck to look above the three or four aisles of junk food, but she couldn't see Alex or the car from here. Good. There was only the slight assurance that the bathroom story would hold him off and force him to give her some privacy, but he didn't have that much respect for her to wait for too long. Especially if it gave him the opportunity to whine at her for something else.
Taking in a deep breath, she approached the phone and stood with her hand on the headset in it's cradle, waiting for a man to fully enter the restroom beside her before picking it up off the hook. Digging in the pockets of her leather pants, Osono inserted several fat coins into the slot, trying to swallow even though her throat had suddenly gone dry, the saliva on her tongue seeming to dig it's heels in and scrape down the inside of her neck, choking her. She hated checking in like this, but at times it seemed inevitable, an urge she could not stifle. After all the things she'd done and the people she hurt, she never cried about it and it was very easy to brush it off and not think about the past. These phone calls not only forced her to remember everything as if it happened 20 minutes ago - which was hours worth of sin and destruction spread for her selfish needs - but they also reminded her of before... What her life had been like before she'd lost everything...
Standing at the small half-box, Ozzie rested her free hand on top of the machine while the other pressed the now lightly buzzing headset up to her ear, each silence between the rings punctuated by small crackles and a mechanical humming that conveyed empty space. Like her call was being shot out into nothingness hoping to get caught by someone out there waiting for it. As was usual for these phone calls, she tried to imagine what he was doing right now, glancing outside at the sunlight still coming through the windows of the gas station and ignoring the faces of those around her. It was about 3 or 4 on a Saturday, so he was probably in their old den, getting ready for Sunday, working on some church related papers or writing out a new sermon with his old leather-bound and weathered scriptures sitting in his lap. She remembered the old musty smell of those pages...
The old, faded, baby blue phone in the hall would have rung with it's melancholy chirping echoed a mere second late further in the house in the living room. He was probably rising from his creaking chair, carefully setting his book and papers aside before leaving the room, wearing his plain clothes while at home. He would probably wait a few beats, staring down at the phone as he removed his reading glasses, inserting them in his shirt pocket with long, slender and wrinkled fingers. She imagined his face, weathered and worn in it's old age but holding an immeasurable amount of kindness and gentleness, his hair graying and his bangs long but combed back elegantly.
He was probably staring down at the little boxy, wooden table set flush against the wall, the small lamp giving off a faded yellow light over the phone and the knitted doily covering the tabletop, a small notepad and pens set aside for taking messages because they never got an answering machine. The wallpaper would be the same because there was no doubt that he wouldn't have touched it, leaving everything the way it had been before She'd passed on. And he probably glanced down at the small picture in it's standing frame there, right beside the phone, their family captured in a happy moment one summer when they'd taken a trip to Busch Gardens. That picture had always been there since the day they'd taken the trip and she wondered if pain entered his eyes as he looked down at himself and her mother smiling happily and Ozzie with her arm around--
Osono shook her head and took in a quick breath when the headset pressed against her face clicked and connected on the 4th ring. Her fingers toyed with a screw on the top of the phone box as she held her breath and waited.
"Hello?" came the deeply graveled response, a small static crackling and the echo of distance in his words as they floated to her ear.
Osono finally took a breath but said nothing, waiting and listening to the silence before he again repeated the questioning word. There was an endless amount of patience in his voice, as there always was and always had been. Even when teaching and disciplining her as a little girl when she just didn't want to learn the lesson that life didn't always go her way, he'd never lost that patience and never seemed annoyed with her.
This time wasn't like the others when Osono called after she'd done something stupid or had just gotten out of trouble by the skin of her teeth. It was different because now she was headed towards trouble and she knew there was a good chance that she'd never speak to him again. She didn't want to think that way, but she couldn't pretend that she was invincible, especially when there was so much about the Agents that she didn't know. Danger lay ahead of her and now that they were officially on the right track with nothing else in their way, it had reminded her that she might not get another chance.
But like all the other times she'd called, silence filled the void between them, and the goodbye she desperately felt bursting within her chest, got caught and tangled in her vocal chords, strangled to death before it even reached her lips. So, she stood, her mouth closed in a firm line, her fingers still playing with the screws on the phone box, closing her eyes briefly as he said "Hello?" for a third time. He never hung up on her even though in all these years of running, she'd never uttered a word, allowing him to greet her plaintively and wait for a response that never came. It was always her who ended it and she usually could last to the fourth time he said it before she couldn't stand it anymore and hung up.
The fourth "Hello?" didn't come this time. Instead, his soft, ancient sigh echoed to her ears through the phone lines seeming to come from some hollowed, mournful place. And finally new words came from his end hitting her to the core, the sound making her feel almost scared enough to slam the phone down and run, but held captive by his voice.
"Osono," he said softly, pausing, hoping for a response before going on when it was obvious none was coming. "I know it's you." She shivered slightly, rooted in place as she imagined - remembered - the way he'd be looking at her now, understanding and sympathy filling his blue-grey eyes. "She's gone now, Ozzie. I saw you at the funeral and it's okay, we don't need to talk about what happened there... But it's just me now." There was a long silence then and she bit the inside of her gum harshly, still not tempted to say anything but feeling strangely comforted and yet shamed by his voice. "I'm..so sorry... Just come home. I just want my daughter back. ...If you're in some kind of troubl--"
Before she realized she'd made the decision, the headset was set gently back in the cradle and coins were rattling through the phone to the slot at the bottom, the metallic clacking seeming to wake her out of the trance she'd been in. Her breathing was slightly heavier and she stared at the phone for a few moments longer, mulling over his words before she turned away from it without a second glance.
Ozzie's face was set in stone as she started to walk through the short aisles of snacks, blindly wandering back to the front of the mart and the doors before she remembered that Alex had wanted stuff. She remembered she'd needed some things too, but all of a sudden, she was overcome by an extreme aversion to the place and a desire to leave, as if her dad was still back in that hallway, waiting inside the phone threatening to call out to her again.
Turning back into the aisles, she tried to remember what Alex wanted and her eyes danced over the different foods before grabbing a few things randomly and stuffing them into the wide sleeves of her army jacket. Feeling the small plastic wrapped food items crinkling within her inner pockets, she immediately headed for the doors, not even bothering to glance at the counter or the man who stood behind it. The door made no alarming sounds as she passed through and the fresh air and sunlight outside had her rushing back to the car as if she were a bird set free from it's cage.
Silently, she slipped back into her seat, closing the door and sat for a moment trying to remember what she was doing, calming her breathing. Glancing down at the GPS she let out a breath through her nose and gave a short nod to herself. Right. Gwen. Buckling her seatbelt and pulling out of the parking lot, she reached into her inner pocket and silently tossed a bag of spiced beef jerky and a jumbo bag of Skittles into Alex's lap, not even offering a perky or snippy comment like 'they were out of diapers'.
As they pulled out onto the highway and the speedometer crept up to the fifties, putting her in the fast flowing river of traffic, the weight of the phone call left her and the tension eased from her shoulders. She let it fade into the background of her mind the further they traveled from the gas station, before finally it was gone and it felt like nothing had happened. Except now, the illusion was threatened by the silence, her thoughts leaning back towards the past and the phone call, her father's voice echoing in her ear with his solemn, lonely tone.
She didn't really know what to think of what he'd said. It had been a surprise to hear him say anything other then "Hello?" first of all, and second of all... Ozzie didn't know what she'd expected, whether it was to be punished or hated by him. Forgiveness was always a possibility because he'd been like that forever, always willing to offer a second chance, even to those who probably didn't deserve it. But for him to apologize... He hadn't done anything and that just made everything worse. That in the midst of all her shame and destruction, of running away...he'd blamed himself for everything. It made her sad and made her feel guilty, that her absence had caused that reaction in a way and it just compounded how selfish and conceited she'd been about everything. Claus had been her little brother, but she wasn't the only one who missed him...
That in turn made her think of Alex's semi-apology and she realized she'd been more than unnecessarily rude to him about it. And she didn't really have a reason. Not a good one. She could keep saying she was stressed about saving Gwen in time, but every time she used that excuse it felt pathetic to let it stop her from making connections, especially when Alex was obviously willing to make some kind of effort. And the whole Rudy thing...
"I wanted to thank you...for what you said," she didn't look at him but kept her eyes on the road, her expression somewhat neutral and her voice as well. "I don't know why I got so mad before or at any time... I mean, true, you do irritate the shit out of me, but it's no reason to be such a bitch. We got enough to deal with, ya know? So... Sorry... I guess." She shrugged uncomfortably but still didn't look at him. This was probably the second time she'd apologized to him and still, it hadn't gotten any easier.
"I don't mean to get angry about Rudy and stuff... The whole thing is just kinda retarded. But anyways... Thank you for not being a complete asshole about it even when I get all up in your face...and threaten to kill you..." Then she let out a breath between her lips, suddenly feeling a whole lot better about the whole thing, even though she expected him to turn around and be a jerk or whiny bitch again. It sort of didn't matter what he did; at least she'd tried to make amends too and that was enough for now. She couldn't erase the past, but she could definitely stop using it as a crutch to justify her poor behavior.
It was right around then that she realized she'd forgotten to get anything for herself - least of all cigarettes - but other than a small quirk of her lips, she said nothing about it, not wanting to bring up questions about what else she'd been doing back there other than buying the things she'd so "desperately" needed to stop for.
Glancing at Alex finally, she said, "Do you mind if I ask what's wrong with your leg?" For once, there wasn't a rude comment waiting in the wings at her words and there was genuine curiosity when she glanced at him again, her eyes falling briefly to his feet. "I mean, you've had a limp since I met you, but sometimes it seems like it's causing you problems but then you're fine. I don't want to assume that I'm gonna be going into this thing alone and need to drag you both out by myself, but... I mean, are you gonna be okay?"
There was the hint of concern, but it wasn't directed at him completely, but more worried about how much of this she'd be doing on her own. When it came to fighting, it was no problem and she was only a little worried about dealing with too many Agents or whatever all on her own. But she depended on Alex for what he knew about these people and if he passed out while they were inside... There was only so much she could do and capture wasn't an option she wanted to think about.
From the way Pup was looking at Master when he said it, she knew that it was directed at him rather than herself and she waited for Master to say something, while staring at the Pup and blinking blankly. Pocket cookie? What did that mean? And was it necessary to shout over? The situation quickly dissolved seconds later when Master spoke again and the Pup declared a very robust dedication to the Agency and Master himself. Stephanie was almost caught up in his fervor about ready to do the same in practically the same tone of voice before her attention was once again violently jerked away by Master mentioning the cells.
Right! That's right! Alexander the guest's body and Benoit! Once again Pup returned to the land of the living as she remembered him and he stuttered brokenly and apologetically to her about wanting to see the bodies. So caught up in the excitement that was Master's cajoling encouragement - like the Pied Piper whistling a tune that unleashed a very physical pull on her body - she flippantly abandoned her earlier violent thoughts to throttle the Pup if he dared to refuse her mission to seek out Jason's treat. The gentlemanly gesture of him offering her his arm sealed it for her and she smiled in a modest way.
"Why thank you--I thought you'd never ask," in a playfully grand voice, as if he were asking her to a ball or something, and she linked her arm with his and practically skipped along with him as if they were on the yellow brick road. As they neared the corner, she eased up a bit but the excitement still coursed through her like a raging river and she squeezed Pup's arm to herself when it occasionally became too much to physically contain.
"I didn't realize you were married," she commented as they turned the corner, Master ahead of them a little ways but not too far. "Are you happy together? Do you love her? How much would you risk for her? Are you the type of man to get up and leave when there's trouble, or do you stay and fight?" A hardness had entered her 'friendly' tone and she gripped his arm tightly within the crook of her elbow, before it subsided and she smiled sweetly down at him again. "I wanted to get married once... I waited for him to ask me but he never did." She smiled again but it seemed more of a reaction to something than actually expressing an emotion of pleasure.
"As you can imagine, I'm sort of done with waiting for men to get any sense in their heads. Weddings are more for women anyway and if I want one, I need to step up and claim what's rightfully mine. If you grab me some Tequila along with the cookies, I'll invite you to mine and Jason's..." she giggled then at the look he gave her, not even seeming to realize there was anything wrong with such a pronouncement about her partner, but her mind was quickly wandering away from the subject anyway, so it didn't matter much.
"Have you ever wondered what it'd be like to be someone else, Puppy?" she asked in semi-dreamy tones. "To exist inside someone else's skin?" The hand not linked with his arm came across her body to scratch meanly at his captured forearm through his sweater. He jerked slightly, but she kept their elbows locked and continued to walk along and talk with him as if nothing untoward were happening.
"It's been my ideal for years, ever since I first laid eyes on a lab filled with hundreds of body tanks. Seemingly spread out for miles, a green glowing army of empty shells. And on that day, I immediately thought, I could be one of them. Does it seem an odd thing to aspire to? To want to flee the cumbersome flesh you were born with, shed it like a pile of dirty clothes and grow delighted at the thought of yourself being empty..."
Sharp, pointed fingernails began to gently trace the lines of his knuckles, the muscles twitching under the razor-like nails that threatened to cut him but left no mark. She could almost feel the blood pumping frantically through him, carrying each engorged cell through layers of fat and buried muscle, his heart pumping swollen and exhaustively in his chest. Stephanie didn't understand the playful desire to slit his wrists - it could have had to do with the fact that she actually was annoyed that he dared to defy her, or that he and Jason were such great pals he'd be willing to do anything for him and probably have the favor returned, or the fact that he had a wife and wore her ring proudly, the gold band on his finger glaring in the half-light that filled the hallways, mocking her with something that had slipped through her fingers, once upon a time; it could have been a lot of things - but she did not fight it and allowed the feeling to exist, hate swimming through the gaps and Swiss cheese holes in the EDP that fitted loosely over her features.
"Just think of it, Puppy!" she said turning to him as they walked along, a bright light filling her green eyes with an excited and predatory look. "Being inside someone else's skin; looking out from someone else's eyes and seeing yourself, seemingly asleep inside a loving, sterile case of liquid. To leave your old flesh behind and become someone else...
"And it's not just the bodies that are glorious, but the whole process!" an excited laugh left her and she gripped the Pup's arm close to herself as she went on, her other hand inserting itself in his to squeeze and dig her nails into his palm, a passion entering her voice as she continued. "It's something you take from someone else. Your life force sucked from your own awkward body and shoved into the mind of another, enforcing your will upon your new form, and consuming them until there's nothing but you, dominating them from the inside out..." She was silent as they came within sight of the room, just a few feet of hallway separating them from it and she spaced out briefly, shivering to remember Jason in that room - where was he...?
"Every time I see one of them, lost in their endless sleep and half-death, I long for it. I long to see myself locked away in a watery bed, and to walk away from it in stolen flesh," when she turned to the Pup again, there was something very wet and glassy about her eyes and she smiled in a tilted way before pushing ahead towards the room.
"Shit!" he cursed, swinging his head this way and that, his face feeling numb and distorted like a catcher's mitt, eyes wide and looking around the shadowed halls for any trace of her. She'd been tied hadn't she? He tried to remember and instantly felt a burst of relief to remember that he had put cuffs on both her hands and feet after the diner incident. God... That felt like a lifetime ago and his nose pulsed numbly to remember what had happened when he'd dared to take the restraints off of her.
No, she couldn't have gotten far... And although there was a very good chance that she'd used her powers on some low-level idiot - just like she'd done with Hoskins - he was hoping that the drugs hadn't worn off yet. What time was it? He instantly started looking for a clock, but there was none around from what he could see. If it wasn't too much later, the drugs should still be working, but she tended to absorb the chemicals faster than he'd expected the first time and...he wasn't exactly sure anymore how much he'd given her. He'd just sort of filled the syringe about half-way each time and injected her with it every hour after he'd stolen the Yugo.It was annoying not knowing what time it was. And where the hell did everybody go?
It was very possible, since he was expected to arrive here that some underling had come by to take the girl off to...wherever she was needed, but why wasn't anyone here to greet him? He didn't expect it to be anybody important - well, okay, he always expected someone important to wait for his arrival and greet him respectfully, or at least issue him a thanks - but it would have been nice if there was somebody here. Showed how precious the damn psychic was, didn't it? The instant they got what they wanted, they forgot about him. Yeah, thanks a lot for going through psychic torture Hell, Rudy--now hit the frickin' road!
With another low grunt, Rudy got to his feet and stretched painfully before walking a few steps into the main corridor. There were some stairs over there and the front doors just beyond, but still no sign of life. Wandering by the stairs, he casually tipped his head back to look up - pretty snazzy place, if a little on the dark side; Heh. Join the Dark Side - and grimaced as the action caused a bit of residual fluid to drain down his throat from his broken nose. Instantly, he choked and realigned his head causing an airy popping to start up in his inner nasal cavity. Wincing, he waited a few beats as the pressure increased and a sneeze jerked through him.
His whole body spasmed with the abrupt movement and his feet which had been resting in a puddle of sticky something lost their footing and gravity yanked him to earth. "Fuck!" he cursed automatically as he fell, his buttocks slamming into tile and causing him to hiss in pain, rocking back and forth as it sent shock waves up his spine. Using a hand to lever himself up, he paused when it touched wetness, picking it up to look at his fingers and palms painted unevenly with dark, almost blackish red.
"Oh, Jesus!" he whined in disgust, shaking his hand as if that would help get the stuff off of him. "No welcome party; lights for shit; leaving your piles of gore all over the place with no 'Caution: bloody floor' sign! What kinda place is this?" He paused and fell silent for a moment and glanced around at the empty space, suddenly looking for something other than people. "Wait...am I being Punk'd? Ashton Kutcher, you dick!"
As she approached the clear front doors entering behind a man who did not hold them open for her, she immediately pushed Alex and his weirdness out of her head. Quickly, she looked around the small place and found the bathrooms in a small hallway on the west end of the establishment. And right between the different gendered doors, nestled against the wall within a small three sided box, was exactly what she needed.
Standing at the mouth of the small corridor she got on her tip-toes, glancing back the way she came and out the front windows, craning her neck to look above the three or four aisles of junk food, but she couldn't see Alex or the car from here. Good. There was only the slight assurance that the bathroom story would hold him off and force him to give her some privacy, but he didn't have that much respect for her to wait for too long. Especially if it gave him the opportunity to whine at her for something else.
Taking in a deep breath, she approached the phone and stood with her hand on the headset in it's cradle, waiting for a man to fully enter the restroom beside her before picking it up off the hook. Digging in the pockets of her leather pants, Osono inserted several fat coins into the slot, trying to swallow even though her throat had suddenly gone dry, the saliva on her tongue seeming to dig it's heels in and scrape down the inside of her neck, choking her. She hated checking in like this, but at times it seemed inevitable, an urge she could not stifle. After all the things she'd done and the people she hurt, she never cried about it and it was very easy to brush it off and not think about the past. These phone calls not only forced her to remember everything as if it happened 20 minutes ago - which was hours worth of sin and destruction spread for her selfish needs - but they also reminded her of before... What her life had been like before she'd lost everything...
Standing at the small half-box, Ozzie rested her free hand on top of the machine while the other pressed the now lightly buzzing headset up to her ear, each silence between the rings punctuated by small crackles and a mechanical humming that conveyed empty space. Like her call was being shot out into nothingness hoping to get caught by someone out there waiting for it. As was usual for these phone calls, she tried to imagine what he was doing right now, glancing outside at the sunlight still coming through the windows of the gas station and ignoring the faces of those around her. It was about 3 or 4 on a Saturday, so he was probably in their old den, getting ready for Sunday, working on some church related papers or writing out a new sermon with his old leather-bound and weathered scriptures sitting in his lap. She remembered the old musty smell of those pages...
The old, faded, baby blue phone in the hall would have rung with it's melancholy chirping echoed a mere second late further in the house in the living room. He was probably rising from his creaking chair, carefully setting his book and papers aside before leaving the room, wearing his plain clothes while at home. He would probably wait a few beats, staring down at the phone as he removed his reading glasses, inserting them in his shirt pocket with long, slender and wrinkled fingers. She imagined his face, weathered and worn in it's old age but holding an immeasurable amount of kindness and gentleness, his hair graying and his bangs long but combed back elegantly.
He was probably staring down at the little boxy, wooden table set flush against the wall, the small lamp giving off a faded yellow light over the phone and the knitted doily covering the tabletop, a small notepad and pens set aside for taking messages because they never got an answering machine. The wallpaper would be the same because there was no doubt that he wouldn't have touched it, leaving everything the way it had been before She'd passed on. And he probably glanced down at the small picture in it's standing frame there, right beside the phone, their family captured in a happy moment one summer when they'd taken a trip to Busch Gardens. That picture had always been there since the day they'd taken the trip and she wondered if pain entered his eyes as he looked down at himself and her mother smiling happily and Ozzie with her arm around--
Osono shook her head and took in a quick breath when the headset pressed against her face clicked and connected on the 4th ring. Her fingers toyed with a screw on the top of the phone box as she held her breath and waited.
"Hello?" came the deeply graveled response, a small static crackling and the echo of distance in his words as they floated to her ear.
Osono finally took a breath but said nothing, waiting and listening to the silence before he again repeated the questioning word. There was an endless amount of patience in his voice, as there always was and always had been. Even when teaching and disciplining her as a little girl when she just didn't want to learn the lesson that life didn't always go her way, he'd never lost that patience and never seemed annoyed with her.
This time wasn't like the others when Osono called after she'd done something stupid or had just gotten out of trouble by the skin of her teeth. It was different because now she was headed towards trouble and she knew there was a good chance that she'd never speak to him again. She didn't want to think that way, but she couldn't pretend that she was invincible, especially when there was so much about the Agents that she didn't know. Danger lay ahead of her and now that they were officially on the right track with nothing else in their way, it had reminded her that she might not get another chance.
But like all the other times she'd called, silence filled the void between them, and the goodbye she desperately felt bursting within her chest, got caught and tangled in her vocal chords, strangled to death before it even reached her lips. So, she stood, her mouth closed in a firm line, her fingers still playing with the screws on the phone box, closing her eyes briefly as he said "Hello?" for a third time. He never hung up on her even though in all these years of running, she'd never uttered a word, allowing him to greet her plaintively and wait for a response that never came. It was always her who ended it and she usually could last to the fourth time he said it before she couldn't stand it anymore and hung up.
The fourth "Hello?" didn't come this time. Instead, his soft, ancient sigh echoed to her ears through the phone lines seeming to come from some hollowed, mournful place. And finally new words came from his end hitting her to the core, the sound making her feel almost scared enough to slam the phone down and run, but held captive by his voice.
"Osono," he said softly, pausing, hoping for a response before going on when it was obvious none was coming. "I know it's you." She shivered slightly, rooted in place as she imagined - remembered - the way he'd be looking at her now, understanding and sympathy filling his blue-grey eyes. "She's gone now, Ozzie. I saw you at the funeral and it's okay, we don't need to talk about what happened there... But it's just me now." There was a long silence then and she bit the inside of her gum harshly, still not tempted to say anything but feeling strangely comforted and yet shamed by his voice. "I'm..so sorry... Just come home. I just want my daughter back. ...If you're in some kind of troubl--"
Before she realized she'd made the decision, the headset was set gently back in the cradle and coins were rattling through the phone to the slot at the bottom, the metallic clacking seeming to wake her out of the trance she'd been in. Her breathing was slightly heavier and she stared at the phone for a few moments longer, mulling over his words before she turned away from it without a second glance.
Ozzie's face was set in stone as she started to walk through the short aisles of snacks, blindly wandering back to the front of the mart and the doors before she remembered that Alex had wanted stuff. She remembered she'd needed some things too, but all of a sudden, she was overcome by an extreme aversion to the place and a desire to leave, as if her dad was still back in that hallway, waiting inside the phone threatening to call out to her again.
Turning back into the aisles, she tried to remember what Alex wanted and her eyes danced over the different foods before grabbing a few things randomly and stuffing them into the wide sleeves of her army jacket. Feeling the small plastic wrapped food items crinkling within her inner pockets, she immediately headed for the doors, not even bothering to glance at the counter or the man who stood behind it. The door made no alarming sounds as she passed through and the fresh air and sunlight outside had her rushing back to the car as if she were a bird set free from it's cage.
Silently, she slipped back into her seat, closing the door and sat for a moment trying to remember what she was doing, calming her breathing. Glancing down at the GPS she let out a breath through her nose and gave a short nod to herself. Right. Gwen. Buckling her seatbelt and pulling out of the parking lot, she reached into her inner pocket and silently tossed a bag of spiced beef jerky and a jumbo bag of Skittles into Alex's lap, not even offering a perky or snippy comment like 'they were out of diapers'.
As they pulled out onto the highway and the speedometer crept up to the fifties, putting her in the fast flowing river of traffic, the weight of the phone call left her and the tension eased from her shoulders. She let it fade into the background of her mind the further they traveled from the gas station, before finally it was gone and it felt like nothing had happened. Except now, the illusion was threatened by the silence, her thoughts leaning back towards the past and the phone call, her father's voice echoing in her ear with his solemn, lonely tone.
She didn't really know what to think of what he'd said. It had been a surprise to hear him say anything other then "Hello?" first of all, and second of all... Ozzie didn't know what she'd expected, whether it was to be punished or hated by him. Forgiveness was always a possibility because he'd been like that forever, always willing to offer a second chance, even to those who probably didn't deserve it. But for him to apologize... He hadn't done anything and that just made everything worse. That in the midst of all her shame and destruction, of running away...he'd blamed himself for everything. It made her sad and made her feel guilty, that her absence had caused that reaction in a way and it just compounded how selfish and conceited she'd been about everything. Claus had been her little brother, but she wasn't the only one who missed him...
That in turn made her think of Alex's semi-apology and she realized she'd been more than unnecessarily rude to him about it. And she didn't really have a reason. Not a good one. She could keep saying she was stressed about saving Gwen in time, but every time she used that excuse it felt pathetic to let it stop her from making connections, especially when Alex was obviously willing to make some kind of effort. And the whole Rudy thing...
"I wanted to thank you...for what you said," she didn't look at him but kept her eyes on the road, her expression somewhat neutral and her voice as well. "I don't know why I got so mad before or at any time... I mean, true, you do irritate the shit out of me, but it's no reason to be such a bitch. We got enough to deal with, ya know? So... Sorry... I guess." She shrugged uncomfortably but still didn't look at him. This was probably the second time she'd apologized to him and still, it hadn't gotten any easier.
"I don't mean to get angry about Rudy and stuff... The whole thing is just kinda retarded. But anyways... Thank you for not being a complete asshole about it even when I get all up in your face...and threaten to kill you..." Then she let out a breath between her lips, suddenly feeling a whole lot better about the whole thing, even though she expected him to turn around and be a jerk or whiny bitch again. It sort of didn't matter what he did; at least she'd tried to make amends too and that was enough for now. She couldn't erase the past, but she could definitely stop using it as a crutch to justify her poor behavior.
It was right around then that she realized she'd forgotten to get anything for herself - least of all cigarettes - but other than a small quirk of her lips, she said nothing about it, not wanting to bring up questions about what else she'd been doing back there other than buying the things she'd so "desperately" needed to stop for.
Glancing at Alex finally, she said, "Do you mind if I ask what's wrong with your leg?" For once, there wasn't a rude comment waiting in the wings at her words and there was genuine curiosity when she glanced at him again, her eyes falling briefly to his feet. "I mean, you've had a limp since I met you, but sometimes it seems like it's causing you problems but then you're fine. I don't want to assume that I'm gonna be going into this thing alone and need to drag you both out by myself, but... I mean, are you gonna be okay?"
There was the hint of concern, but it wasn't directed at him completely, but more worried about how much of this she'd be doing on her own. When it came to fighting, it was no problem and she was only a little worried about dealing with too many Agents or whatever all on her own. But she depended on Alex for what he knew about these people and if he passed out while they were inside... There was only so much she could do and capture wasn't an option she wanted to think about.
***
The exuberant response that the Pup gave her delighted Stephanie and she giggled softly at his threat to shove the cookies down Jason's throat - the image that put in her head immediately made her think 'Awwwww' - and clapped her hands softly, like a little girl watching a cute animal do a terrific trick. Instantly she stopped at the sound of Master's voice and turned to him, her eyes brightening an incredibly glossy sheen as he approached. She hadn't been planning on saying anything and forgot everything except her worship of him until the Puppy suddenly shouted drawing a wide, green-eyed look, like a cat that had been startled.From the way Pup was looking at Master when he said it, she knew that it was directed at him rather than herself and she waited for Master to say something, while staring at the Pup and blinking blankly. Pocket cookie? What did that mean? And was it necessary to shout over? The situation quickly dissolved seconds later when Master spoke again and the Pup declared a very robust dedication to the Agency and Master himself. Stephanie was almost caught up in his fervor about ready to do the same in practically the same tone of voice before her attention was once again violently jerked away by Master mentioning the cells.
Right! That's right! Alexander the guest's body and Benoit! Once again Pup returned to the land of the living as she remembered him and he stuttered brokenly and apologetically to her about wanting to see the bodies. So caught up in the excitement that was Master's cajoling encouragement - like the Pied Piper whistling a tune that unleashed a very physical pull on her body - she flippantly abandoned her earlier violent thoughts to throttle the Pup if he dared to refuse her mission to seek out Jason's treat. The gentlemanly gesture of him offering her his arm sealed it for her and she smiled in a modest way.
"Why thank you--I thought you'd never ask," in a playfully grand voice, as if he were asking her to a ball or something, and she linked her arm with his and practically skipped along with him as if they were on the yellow brick road. As they neared the corner, she eased up a bit but the excitement still coursed through her like a raging river and she squeezed Pup's arm to herself when it occasionally became too much to physically contain.
"I didn't realize you were married," she commented as they turned the corner, Master ahead of them a little ways but not too far. "Are you happy together? Do you love her? How much would you risk for her? Are you the type of man to get up and leave when there's trouble, or do you stay and fight?" A hardness had entered her 'friendly' tone and she gripped his arm tightly within the crook of her elbow, before it subsided and she smiled sweetly down at him again. "I wanted to get married once... I waited for him to ask me but he never did." She smiled again but it seemed more of a reaction to something than actually expressing an emotion of pleasure.
"As you can imagine, I'm sort of done with waiting for men to get any sense in their heads. Weddings are more for women anyway and if I want one, I need to step up and claim what's rightfully mine. If you grab me some Tequila along with the cookies, I'll invite you to mine and Jason's..." she giggled then at the look he gave her, not even seeming to realize there was anything wrong with such a pronouncement about her partner, but her mind was quickly wandering away from the subject anyway, so it didn't matter much.
"Have you ever wondered what it'd be like to be someone else, Puppy?" she asked in semi-dreamy tones. "To exist inside someone else's skin?" The hand not linked with his arm came across her body to scratch meanly at his captured forearm through his sweater. He jerked slightly, but she kept their elbows locked and continued to walk along and talk with him as if nothing untoward were happening.
"It's been my ideal for years, ever since I first laid eyes on a lab filled with hundreds of body tanks. Seemingly spread out for miles, a green glowing army of empty shells. And on that day, I immediately thought, I could be one of them. Does it seem an odd thing to aspire to? To want to flee the cumbersome flesh you were born with, shed it like a pile of dirty clothes and grow delighted at the thought of yourself being empty..."
Sharp, pointed fingernails began to gently trace the lines of his knuckles, the muscles twitching under the razor-like nails that threatened to cut him but left no mark. She could almost feel the blood pumping frantically through him, carrying each engorged cell through layers of fat and buried muscle, his heart pumping swollen and exhaustively in his chest. Stephanie didn't understand the playful desire to slit his wrists - it could have had to do with the fact that she actually was annoyed that he dared to defy her, or that he and Jason were such great pals he'd be willing to do anything for him and probably have the favor returned, or the fact that he had a wife and wore her ring proudly, the gold band on his finger glaring in the half-light that filled the hallways, mocking her with something that had slipped through her fingers, once upon a time; it could have been a lot of things - but she did not fight it and allowed the feeling to exist, hate swimming through the gaps and Swiss cheese holes in the EDP that fitted loosely over her features.
"Just think of it, Puppy!" she said turning to him as they walked along, a bright light filling her green eyes with an excited and predatory look. "Being inside someone else's skin; looking out from someone else's eyes and seeing yourself, seemingly asleep inside a loving, sterile case of liquid. To leave your old flesh behind and become someone else...
"And it's not just the bodies that are glorious, but the whole process!" an excited laugh left her and she gripped the Pup's arm close to herself as she went on, her other hand inserting itself in his to squeeze and dig her nails into his palm, a passion entering her voice as she continued. "It's something you take from someone else. Your life force sucked from your own awkward body and shoved into the mind of another, enforcing your will upon your new form, and consuming them until there's nothing but you, dominating them from the inside out..." She was silent as they came within sight of the room, just a few feet of hallway separating them from it and she spaced out briefly, shivering to remember Jason in that room - where was he...?
"Every time I see one of them, lost in their endless sleep and half-death, I long for it. I long to see myself locked away in a watery bed, and to walk away from it in stolen flesh," when she turned to the Pup again, there was something very wet and glassy about her eyes and she smiled in a tilted way before pushing ahead towards the room.
***
Rolling over onto his side, a groan split from Rudy's throat as his skull creaked in a vise and his stomach lurched with the movement. Everything sorta hurt, but after a few moments of blinking at the dimly lit ceiling, obscene yellow light helping his vision relax, he knew he was going to be okay. Sitting up, he panted a little and glanced around himself going through the motions of first, wondering where he was, then remembering and second wondering where everyone else was. And Gwen, his whole reason for being here, was missing."Shit!" he cursed, swinging his head this way and that, his face feeling numb and distorted like a catcher's mitt, eyes wide and looking around the shadowed halls for any trace of her. She'd been tied hadn't she? He tried to remember and instantly felt a burst of relief to remember that he had put cuffs on both her hands and feet after the diner incident. God... That felt like a lifetime ago and his nose pulsed numbly to remember what had happened when he'd dared to take the restraints off of her.
No, she couldn't have gotten far... And although there was a very good chance that she'd used her powers on some low-level idiot - just like she'd done with Hoskins - he was hoping that the drugs hadn't worn off yet. What time was it? He instantly started looking for a clock, but there was none around from what he could see. If it wasn't too much later, the drugs should still be working, but she tended to absorb the chemicals faster than he'd expected the first time and...he wasn't exactly sure anymore how much he'd given her. He'd just sort of filled the syringe about half-way each time and injected her with it every hour after he'd stolen the Yugo.It was annoying not knowing what time it was. And where the hell did everybody go?
It was very possible, since he was expected to arrive here that some underling had come by to take the girl off to...wherever she was needed, but why wasn't anyone here to greet him? He didn't expect it to be anybody important - well, okay, he always expected someone important to wait for his arrival and greet him respectfully, or at least issue him a thanks - but it would have been nice if there was somebody here. Showed how precious the damn psychic was, didn't it? The instant they got what they wanted, they forgot about him. Yeah, thanks a lot for going through psychic torture Hell, Rudy--now hit the frickin' road!
With another low grunt, Rudy got to his feet and stretched painfully before walking a few steps into the main corridor. There were some stairs over there and the front doors just beyond, but still no sign of life. Wandering by the stairs, he casually tipped his head back to look up - pretty snazzy place, if a little on the dark side; Heh. Join the Dark Side - and grimaced as the action caused a bit of residual fluid to drain down his throat from his broken nose. Instantly, he choked and realigned his head causing an airy popping to start up in his inner nasal cavity. Wincing, he waited a few beats as the pressure increased and a sneeze jerked through him.
His whole body spasmed with the abrupt movement and his feet which had been resting in a puddle of sticky something lost their footing and gravity yanked him to earth. "Fuck!" he cursed automatically as he fell, his buttocks slamming into tile and causing him to hiss in pain, rocking back and forth as it sent shock waves up his spine. Using a hand to lever himself up, he paused when it touched wetness, picking it up to look at his fingers and palms painted unevenly with dark, almost blackish red.
"Oh, Jesus!" he whined in disgust, shaking his hand as if that would help get the stuff off of him. "No welcome party; lights for shit; leaving your piles of gore all over the place with no 'Caution: bloody floor' sign! What kinda place is this?" He paused and fell silent for a moment and glanced around at the empty space, suddenly looking for something other than people. "Wait...am I being Punk'd? Ashton Kutcher, you dick!"
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Wed Dec 22, 2010 5:54 am
Jason sighed.
The walk from here to the sick bay was about five minutes on his own. With the halls as dark as they were, wandering through them felt like a backwards horror movie: here he was, stalking towards some guy he’d left lying on the ground, out cold, surrounded by puddles of congealed and too-dark blood, sitting under the one orange light the building hadn’t burned through while the rest of the place looked like it’d been deserted, and yet his life was the one on the line. He should’ve been grateful when he heard a new voice from where Quin had been abandoned. It meant the midget hadn’t run off even if he’d been trying. Thanks, Frenchie, and in almost the same way, thanks Crazy German. Those blood spots couldn’t’ve been there without them.
“Agent Rudy Quin,” he flatly greeted, stepping over the puddles he’d seen fit to memorize. He stopped and sighed again. He’d sighed those words out, actually. His lead’s words came back to haunt him. The way she’d brushed off any notion of this man being good at his job seemed to have rubbed off. He’d almost expected someone like this small man, even though his logical mind kept saying the Agency wouldn’t hire anyone who didn’t at least look fit for work. It was a stupid thing to hold onto. Hadn’t he learned by now people – particularly Agents – were nowhere near rational? Prone to patterns, maybe, but practically insane. ‘Practically’. “It’s nice to know you made it. Thank you...” It didn’t sound right giving gratitude to this guy. Good thing Jason didn’t wholly mean it. “... for bringing my target in. I know Gwen, with her powers active, wouldn’t’ve made it easy.”
Busted lip, busted nose, busted face... Gwendolyn Stewart, despite her defence classes, wasn’t supposed to be a warrior. What’d happened?
“It goes without saying this ‘thanks’ is on behalf of my lead, but try not to milk it,” he said. “You seem like the type who’d try, and considering the condition you’ve brought her in, it might dim your glory.”
That warning was completely unnecessary. No matter what his quick-sweep analysis was telling him – people weren’t rational, Agents were crazy, stop treating this like a normal assignment – Rudy Quin had yet to fail a mission Jason knew of. He’d lagged spectacularly at getting his project wrapped up for reasons Jason was sure were about as solid as fog, but holding it against him meant holding the Alexander case against Benoit, which didn’t seem fair. And what did he know? He hadn’t even met Quin yet. Maybe he was a fine Agent who’d simply been saddled with a target hard to get close to. She had fire powers, didn’t she? There. That was probably it.
Jason looked down at the shrimp who’d landed on his ass in a Jell-O pool of nightmares. If cold analysis wasn’t working, he sure as fuck wasn’t switching to ignorant naivety. Luck. It’d been luck. And this Agent had nothing over him. The papers hadn’t been processed, but Eric had said lower and lower ranks as their conversation had gone on. A-5? Not so different from an A-6, he told himself. Besides, his papers hadn’t been processed either.
Yet.
“The sick bay is that way.” He pointed. Briefly. “I was going to carry you, but since you’re awake and... ‘painted’... I think I’ll step back from that.”
He didn’t want to take any risks with this. Rudy Quin was not going to bother his lead.
“Get yourself cleaned up,” he said, almost ordering it through a mask of impatience. “I need to reconvene with the lead Agent on my team. She’s with another A-3 and an A-1.” The A-2 had to be around somewhere as well. “Don’t show up looking like that, for everyone’s sake.” And to be nice, Jason added, “Please.”
Beeeeeeeef! He caught it happily. What – no Smarties? Skittles? Skittles aren’t as good as Smarties...
Osono was back with seconds to spare, but she was far away in another world when she got in. She seemed... lost, he guessed, and he only used that word because he didn’t know enough about to her to call it something else.
Ooh – they’re sour! Nevermind!
Alex quietly cleared his throat while the wheel turned under her hands, waiting long enough for them to be half-out of the parking lot before he tried talking to her.
“Are you –”
Alex.
He dropped his voice and whispered back, “Yes?”
Y’know how you said she doesn’t hate me and I said it was ‘cause I wasn’t talking?
“Yeah...?”
Do that. And with a faint firmness, Xander tacked on, Now is not the time.
Duly noted.
They drove in silence and he let his attention stick with getting the candy open, which his freshly possessed hands – thanks to a new strength that came from ‘twenty-one’ – ow – and ‘twenty-two’ – ow! – then proceeded to mix together with the jerky because not only did Xander want him to die, but to do it with the foulest taste in his mouth he could manage.
His head picked up when hers did.
She was apologizing. Shit – he truly was a girl if that actually meant something to him. And the fact Xander didn’t feel the need to jump in and agree must’ve meant he was right.
“I get death threats all the time. The coffee thing...” Gwen. Gwen was the one who knew about the coffee thing. “You know – Starbucks. Other people. They – uh... get snippy when you take too long to order. Really – just... try not to sound like you mean it and I’ll...”
“– stop crying when my feelings get hurt.”
... Yeah.
He should’ve said something else. No. But he wanted to. Hearing her mention Rudy while not sounding like she wanted to snap his neck brought the need to apologize back to her, make sure she knew it was over and make doubly sure it wasn’t going to spring up again later. With a massive effort, Alex kept quiet. It was the best he could do if she wanted to forget it’d ever happened. Then came her turn to dig into something he wanted to explain as little as anyone was able. Alright – he couldn’t seriously say he didn’t expect this to come up, but he’d been so focused on finding out whether she was up for this that he’d forgotten Osono had no idea how he’d fare.
“Xander,” Alex mumbled. “You want to field this one?”
“Foot’s fine,” he said.
Well done. That answered everything and nothing at the exact same time.
Twenty-five. We’re makin’ progress again.
“I’m trying to rest it,” Alex said. “It’s nothing serious.” He was lying. “Alright – it didn’t start as anything serious. My toe broke. From there, I think my whole foot broke, and this city to city race hasn’t been helping.”
Twenty-six.
“Slow down!”
Can’t slow down. Gotta go fast. Fast, fast, fast, fast, fast. Twenty-seven!
More jolts. Alex grit his teeth and idly pressed his fingers into the sides of his seat. He kept talking, though. He wasn’t going to end what he’d been saying when he hadn’t gotten to the reassuring bit yet.
“It’s very, very uncomfortable,” he said, powering through the cough his throat wanted out, “but it’s not a problem. Part of me, at least, doesn’t think so, and if that’s the part that’s handling it...”
Thirty! And while Alex turned his head to keep her from seeing the massive wince on his face, which probably hadn’t inspired confidence the way the unignorable cough of pain – his throat won – had, Xander went on to excitedly say, I like shouting the numbers out. It’s like I’m Santa Claus, only the badass version ‘cause I hand out pain! Everyone is a naughty son-of-a-bitch!
“What I should probably remind you of –” Cough, cough, cough. Alex forced it down and went back to this. “The restaurant. My foot was broken then, too. If I have to move, I can move. It looks worse than it is.”
Sour beef Skittles. Why isn’t this an official flavour?
“Anyway,” he told her, “as long as we’re discussing what we have to deal with, now’s as good as time as any to let you know there’s a side-quest we have to go on.” It was bad enough he had to talk through the agony. Could he get through three words without someone jamming meat-candy in his mouth? “We’re going to get Gwen; that’ll never change. After everything we’ve been through, I refuse to let them do what they’re planning. But... I have to take care of a situation, too. I don’t know how long it’ll be, but I do know, in that time, I’m not going to be able to fight.”
Hopefully after, that’d change.
“It’s in our advantage,” Xander jumped in, lazily chatting around the even more sugar he was snacking on. “Quin didn’t have a lot of tech on him, and since he’s the one with the most knowledge on your power, the rest won’t be prepared at all. Me, on the other hand, they’ve been waiting for. When the dream team show up – a girl, a guy and two French bastards – you get to sideswipe ‘em. Thanks for the help, Sparky! Glad to have you on the team.” He shook the Skittles bag. “And thanks for these. I’ll give you an honourable mention when I patent it and get rich.”
Two people total would buy it and they would both be brain damaged.
“I won’t leave you to clear them out alone,” Alex went on, “but you’re going to be a one-woman army for a while when they’re done. Let’s hope there’s... oil or gas or something around.”
And a fast exit.
“Well... we can make one of those.”
Very true. Thirty-two!
Good God – it was like a parade of people he hated. He was trapped in a room with all of them, and Eric, to no one’s surprise, insisted on making it worse.
That woman had appeared while he had stood in the light of the stasis cells. Getting out of that mess was not the problem; the very talent the Agency had hired him for lay in handling these situations. Over the next ten minutes, Benoit had slunk into one corner, waited for her to stomp around the room on a wild hunt, then disappeared to the far side again the very moment she drew too near. It was almost adorable the way she refused to give up, but the fact that her success would mean going back to her office – Agency women were insane. He stayed away. He stayed far, far away. She had no chance of finding him, and with his patience unbreakable and her other responsibilities pressing on her schedule, she would have shortly had no choice but to abandon her search and torture someone else instead.
And then, Eric Patten.
“Benny!” His spine turned to ice at the very sound of the vulture’s voice. His cheer was nauseating. Benoit would have accepted it, ignored it, if not for the massive hand – the hand stolen from Jean – that reached out and plucked him from the shadows. “Been worried about you!”
Fuck you fucking asshole showing her where he was –
She found him. When she had heard Eric’s voice, she turned to investigate, but the split instant Benoit’s location had been pointed out, her back straightened, her eyes narrowed, and her hair snapped through the air as she whipped her head to lock onto him. There was no mistaking what had happened: she had caught his scent and avoiding her now meant leaving the country entirely.
“Eric. I want you dead.”
“Ohhh – you just need more wine. Maddy! What’re you doin’ in here? Keepin’ him busy, I see. Thank you, my lady.”
“UNHAND HIM, PATTEN.” She was coming over.
“You’re the A-2!” And Eric pushed him towards her – “Benoit, I’ve got it from here. If you two wanna take off and do whatever, I’m completely okay with that.”
“What?”
“I need you away from this guy,” Eric said, waving at the five cells. “I don’t quite... ‘trust’ you not flick the kill switch on him.”
And again: what?
“I have no intention of doing any such thing,” he seethed. “‘Trust me’? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Hey, hey, hey. Let’s not get uppity about this. I know you and Xander had your little headbutts, so I’d rather not run the risk of you doing anything to compromise the plan.”
“My plan, Eric, that March and I had in motion long before you popped up.”
“Yeeeeessss,” the man rolled out, grinning widely as the woman arrived and coiled around Benoit’s left arm. Right away, half his circulation ended abruptly, violently and tragically. “But there’s the added problem of ‘if you’re here, she’s here’, and I don’t like her.”
Eric smiled. Madeline did not return it.
“IF YOU HAVE FINISHED WASTING MY TIME, PATTEN, I WILL LEAVE YOU WITH YOUR SICK TROPHY.”
She meant Charlotte, the woman who had been pushed from the centre stage to make room for Alexander-the-guest. Benoit agreed: it was very sick. Preserving the body of the gifted was entirely different from preserving that of an Agent’s. Such an act was a sign of honour, out of reach of traitors, and the only reason the guest hadn’t had his stuffed in a furnace was because the body he transferred into was alive. He would have been burned if Alexander failed to survive, but as it stood, the case was technically open. Charlotte Carter, whose target had long since deceased, held no similar excuse. Eric just wanted her around.
“I don’t trust you with her, missy,” the A-1 said, chipper. “Don’t think those appeals are gonna come to an end.”
“QUANTITY DOES NOT MAGICALLY MAKE REASON. YOUR THOUSAND LETTERS STILL HAVE YET TO BEST MY ONE.” With that, she yanked on Benoit’s arm and started dragging him towards the door. “WIPE YOUR GERMS OFF MY CELLS WHEN YOU’VE FINISHED, PATTEN. MY CELLS.”
Eric had a good chuckle over her words, but his hand raised to scratch the side of his glasses. That was not a good sign by any stretch of the imagination.
“I think you pissed him off,” Benoit muttered.
“Tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”
Who knew? The first thing from her mouth not screeched at the volume of a jet was something he appreciated. But she thoroughly ruined any sliver of goodwill by tightening her grip and destroying the smallest hope of blood ever getting through his arm again. He was not going back to her office.
“Miss Agent!” Thank God. “You will have to excuse me, Miss Bergmann, but I need my arm.”
“IF SHE GETS AN ARM, I GET AN ARM. THAT IS HOW THIS WORKS.”
Sure enough, Stephanie March had her own new toy to play with. This world was cruel and set against him.
“Regardless.” Perhaps with less grace than he’d intended, he detached himself from her. “Come, Miss Agent. Inside. Now. Hurry.”
Yes, he was back with the A-1, but at least he didn’t have to worry about someone jumping him. Then again, the fat one looked too happy to be here...
The walk from here to the sick bay was about five minutes on his own. With the halls as dark as they were, wandering through them felt like a backwards horror movie: here he was, stalking towards some guy he’d left lying on the ground, out cold, surrounded by puddles of congealed and too-dark blood, sitting under the one orange light the building hadn’t burned through while the rest of the place looked like it’d been deserted, and yet his life was the one on the line. He should’ve been grateful when he heard a new voice from where Quin had been abandoned. It meant the midget hadn’t run off even if he’d been trying. Thanks, Frenchie, and in almost the same way, thanks Crazy German. Those blood spots couldn’t’ve been there without them.
“Agent Rudy Quin,” he flatly greeted, stepping over the puddles he’d seen fit to memorize. He stopped and sighed again. He’d sighed those words out, actually. His lead’s words came back to haunt him. The way she’d brushed off any notion of this man being good at his job seemed to have rubbed off. He’d almost expected someone like this small man, even though his logical mind kept saying the Agency wouldn’t hire anyone who didn’t at least look fit for work. It was a stupid thing to hold onto. Hadn’t he learned by now people – particularly Agents – were nowhere near rational? Prone to patterns, maybe, but practically insane. ‘Practically’. “It’s nice to know you made it. Thank you...” It didn’t sound right giving gratitude to this guy. Good thing Jason didn’t wholly mean it. “... for bringing my target in. I know Gwen, with her powers active, wouldn’t’ve made it easy.”
Busted lip, busted nose, busted face... Gwendolyn Stewart, despite her defence classes, wasn’t supposed to be a warrior. What’d happened?
“It goes without saying this ‘thanks’ is on behalf of my lead, but try not to milk it,” he said. “You seem like the type who’d try, and considering the condition you’ve brought her in, it might dim your glory.”
That warning was completely unnecessary. No matter what his quick-sweep analysis was telling him – people weren’t rational, Agents were crazy, stop treating this like a normal assignment – Rudy Quin had yet to fail a mission Jason knew of. He’d lagged spectacularly at getting his project wrapped up for reasons Jason was sure were about as solid as fog, but holding it against him meant holding the Alexander case against Benoit, which didn’t seem fair. And what did he know? He hadn’t even met Quin yet. Maybe he was a fine Agent who’d simply been saddled with a target hard to get close to. She had fire powers, didn’t she? There. That was probably it.
Jason looked down at the shrimp who’d landed on his ass in a Jell-O pool of nightmares. If cold analysis wasn’t working, he sure as fuck wasn’t switching to ignorant naivety. Luck. It’d been luck. And this Agent had nothing over him. The papers hadn’t been processed, but Eric had said lower and lower ranks as their conversation had gone on. A-5? Not so different from an A-6, he told himself. Besides, his papers hadn’t been processed either.
Yet.
“The sick bay is that way.” He pointed. Briefly. “I was going to carry you, but since you’re awake and... ‘painted’... I think I’ll step back from that.”
He didn’t want to take any risks with this. Rudy Quin was not going to bother his lead.
“Get yourself cleaned up,” he said, almost ordering it through a mask of impatience. “I need to reconvene with the lead Agent on my team. She’s with another A-3 and an A-1.” The A-2 had to be around somewhere as well. “Don’t show up looking like that, for everyone’s sake.” And to be nice, Jason added, “Please.”
* * *
Beeeeeeeef! He caught it happily. What – no Smarties? Skittles? Skittles aren’t as good as Smarties...
Osono was back with seconds to spare, but she was far away in another world when she got in. She seemed... lost, he guessed, and he only used that word because he didn’t know enough about to her to call it something else.
Ooh – they’re sour! Nevermind!
Alex quietly cleared his throat while the wheel turned under her hands, waiting long enough for them to be half-out of the parking lot before he tried talking to her.
“Are you –”
Alex.
He dropped his voice and whispered back, “Yes?”
Y’know how you said she doesn’t hate me and I said it was ‘cause I wasn’t talking?
“Yeah...?”
Do that. And with a faint firmness, Xander tacked on, Now is not the time.
Duly noted.
They drove in silence and he let his attention stick with getting the candy open, which his freshly possessed hands – thanks to a new strength that came from ‘twenty-one’ – ow – and ‘twenty-two’ – ow! – then proceeded to mix together with the jerky because not only did Xander want him to die, but to do it with the foulest taste in his mouth he could manage.
His head picked up when hers did.
She was apologizing. Shit – he truly was a girl if that actually meant something to him. And the fact Xander didn’t feel the need to jump in and agree must’ve meant he was right.
“I get death threats all the time. The coffee thing...” Gwen. Gwen was the one who knew about the coffee thing. “You know – Starbucks. Other people. They – uh... get snippy when you take too long to order. Really – just... try not to sound like you mean it and I’ll...”
“– stop crying when my feelings get hurt.”
... Yeah.
He should’ve said something else. No. But he wanted to. Hearing her mention Rudy while not sounding like she wanted to snap his neck brought the need to apologize back to her, make sure she knew it was over and make doubly sure it wasn’t going to spring up again later. With a massive effort, Alex kept quiet. It was the best he could do if she wanted to forget it’d ever happened. Then came her turn to dig into something he wanted to explain as little as anyone was able. Alright – he couldn’t seriously say he didn’t expect this to come up, but he’d been so focused on finding out whether she was up for this that he’d forgotten Osono had no idea how he’d fare.
“Xander,” Alex mumbled. “You want to field this one?”
“Foot’s fine,” he said.
Well done. That answered everything and nothing at the exact same time.
Twenty-five. We’re makin’ progress again.
“I’m trying to rest it,” Alex said. “It’s nothing serious.” He was lying. “Alright – it didn’t start as anything serious. My toe broke. From there, I think my whole foot broke, and this city to city race hasn’t been helping.”
Twenty-six.
“Slow down!”
Can’t slow down. Gotta go fast. Fast, fast, fast, fast, fast. Twenty-seven!
More jolts. Alex grit his teeth and idly pressed his fingers into the sides of his seat. He kept talking, though. He wasn’t going to end what he’d been saying when he hadn’t gotten to the reassuring bit yet.
“It’s very, very uncomfortable,” he said, powering through the cough his throat wanted out, “but it’s not a problem. Part of me, at least, doesn’t think so, and if that’s the part that’s handling it...”
Thirty! And while Alex turned his head to keep her from seeing the massive wince on his face, which probably hadn’t inspired confidence the way the unignorable cough of pain – his throat won – had, Xander went on to excitedly say, I like shouting the numbers out. It’s like I’m Santa Claus, only the badass version ‘cause I hand out pain! Everyone is a naughty son-of-a-bitch!
“What I should probably remind you of –” Cough, cough, cough. Alex forced it down and went back to this. “The restaurant. My foot was broken then, too. If I have to move, I can move. It looks worse than it is.”
Sour beef Skittles. Why isn’t this an official flavour?
“Anyway,” he told her, “as long as we’re discussing what we have to deal with, now’s as good as time as any to let you know there’s a side-quest we have to go on.” It was bad enough he had to talk through the agony. Could he get through three words without someone jamming meat-candy in his mouth? “We’re going to get Gwen; that’ll never change. After everything we’ve been through, I refuse to let them do what they’re planning. But... I have to take care of a situation, too. I don’t know how long it’ll be, but I do know, in that time, I’m not going to be able to fight.”
Hopefully after, that’d change.
“It’s in our advantage,” Xander jumped in, lazily chatting around the even more sugar he was snacking on. “Quin didn’t have a lot of tech on him, and since he’s the one with the most knowledge on your power, the rest won’t be prepared at all. Me, on the other hand, they’ve been waiting for. When the dream team show up – a girl, a guy and two French bastards – you get to sideswipe ‘em. Thanks for the help, Sparky! Glad to have you on the team.” He shook the Skittles bag. “And thanks for these. I’ll give you an honourable mention when I patent it and get rich.”
Two people total would buy it and they would both be brain damaged.
“I won’t leave you to clear them out alone,” Alex went on, “but you’re going to be a one-woman army for a while when they’re done. Let’s hope there’s... oil or gas or something around.”
And a fast exit.
“Well... we can make one of those.”
Very true. Thirty-two!
* * *
Good God – it was like a parade of people he hated. He was trapped in a room with all of them, and Eric, to no one’s surprise, insisted on making it worse.
That woman had appeared while he had stood in the light of the stasis cells. Getting out of that mess was not the problem; the very talent the Agency had hired him for lay in handling these situations. Over the next ten minutes, Benoit had slunk into one corner, waited for her to stomp around the room on a wild hunt, then disappeared to the far side again the very moment she drew too near. It was almost adorable the way she refused to give up, but the fact that her success would mean going back to her office – Agency women were insane. He stayed away. He stayed far, far away. She had no chance of finding him, and with his patience unbreakable and her other responsibilities pressing on her schedule, she would have shortly had no choice but to abandon her search and torture someone else instead.
And then, Eric Patten.
“Benny!” His spine turned to ice at the very sound of the vulture’s voice. His cheer was nauseating. Benoit would have accepted it, ignored it, if not for the massive hand – the hand stolen from Jean – that reached out and plucked him from the shadows. “Been worried about you!”
Fuck you fucking asshole showing her where he was –
She found him. When she had heard Eric’s voice, she turned to investigate, but the split instant Benoit’s location had been pointed out, her back straightened, her eyes narrowed, and her hair snapped through the air as she whipped her head to lock onto him. There was no mistaking what had happened: she had caught his scent and avoiding her now meant leaving the country entirely.
“Eric. I want you dead.”
“Ohhh – you just need more wine. Maddy! What’re you doin’ in here? Keepin’ him busy, I see. Thank you, my lady.”
“UNHAND HIM, PATTEN.” She was coming over.
“You’re the A-2!” And Eric pushed him towards her – “Benoit, I’ve got it from here. If you two wanna take off and do whatever, I’m completely okay with that.”
“What?”
“I need you away from this guy,” Eric said, waving at the five cells. “I don’t quite... ‘trust’ you not flick the kill switch on him.”
And again: what?
“I have no intention of doing any such thing,” he seethed. “‘Trust me’? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Hey, hey, hey. Let’s not get uppity about this. I know you and Xander had your little headbutts, so I’d rather not run the risk of you doing anything to compromise the plan.”
“My plan, Eric, that March and I had in motion long before you popped up.”
“Yeeeeessss,” the man rolled out, grinning widely as the woman arrived and coiled around Benoit’s left arm. Right away, half his circulation ended abruptly, violently and tragically. “But there’s the added problem of ‘if you’re here, she’s here’, and I don’t like her.”
Eric smiled. Madeline did not return it.
“IF YOU HAVE FINISHED WASTING MY TIME, PATTEN, I WILL LEAVE YOU WITH YOUR SICK TROPHY.”
She meant Charlotte, the woman who had been pushed from the centre stage to make room for Alexander-the-guest. Benoit agreed: it was very sick. Preserving the body of the gifted was entirely different from preserving that of an Agent’s. Such an act was a sign of honour, out of reach of traitors, and the only reason the guest hadn’t had his stuffed in a furnace was because the body he transferred into was alive. He would have been burned if Alexander failed to survive, but as it stood, the case was technically open. Charlotte Carter, whose target had long since deceased, held no similar excuse. Eric just wanted her around.
“I don’t trust you with her, missy,” the A-1 said, chipper. “Don’t think those appeals are gonna come to an end.”
“QUANTITY DOES NOT MAGICALLY MAKE REASON. YOUR THOUSAND LETTERS STILL HAVE YET TO BEST MY ONE.” With that, she yanked on Benoit’s arm and started dragging him towards the door. “WIPE YOUR GERMS OFF MY CELLS WHEN YOU’VE FINISHED, PATTEN. MY CELLS.”
Eric had a good chuckle over her words, but his hand raised to scratch the side of his glasses. That was not a good sign by any stretch of the imagination.
“I think you pissed him off,” Benoit muttered.
“Tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”
Who knew? The first thing from her mouth not screeched at the volume of a jet was something he appreciated. But she thoroughly ruined any sliver of goodwill by tightening her grip and destroying the smallest hope of blood ever getting through his arm again. He was not going back to her office.
“Miss Agent!” Thank God. “You will have to excuse me, Miss Bergmann, but I need my arm.”
“IF SHE GETS AN ARM, I GET AN ARM. THAT IS HOW THIS WORKS.”
Sure enough, Stephanie March had her own new toy to play with. This world was cruel and set against him.
“Regardless.” Perhaps with less grace than he’d intended, he detached himself from her. “Come, Miss Agent. Inside. Now. Hurry.”
Yes, he was back with the A-1, but at least he didn’t have to worry about someone jumping him. Then again, the fat one looked too happy to be here...
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Thu Dec 30, 2010 3:40 am
Rudy was still busy chuckling to himself about his little private joke - private because no one was around to appreciate it! - when he heard the voice of someone else. Instantly, from his sitting position he whipped his head around at the approaching Agent, his eyes widening with an excitement of finally seeing someone here and narrowing when he didn't recognize him. As he went through a very begrudging introduction, his voice dripping with apathy - God! Was it too much to ask for these people to act a little grateful for what he'd been through for them? - Rudy's eyes quickly danced up and down the other man's form before settling on and scrutinizing his face.
This was obviously a low-level Agent, closely related to the Stewart case - no doubt Stephanie's newest little lackey by the terms the guy used - of a moderate high rank, judging by the suit he wore, although Rudy couldn't remember if it was A-6's or A-5's who got to wear them. Hmm, maybe you had to be A-4? Whatever. This wasn't what he'd expected and it definitely wasn't what he felt he deserved. Especially not with the tone the other man was taking with him, directing him to get cleaned up as if he were a parent telling a child not to embarrass them in front of company.
He didn't know this man, but Rudy prided himself in reading people and he knew when others were seeing the word "Idiot" written on his face. He also knew how to make the situation better and worse, and despite being used to being labeled as an incompetent fool, it was still not something he enjoyed. He was an A-3 and the Lead on a very big case! Technically Eric Patten had demoted him, but this pompous pretty-boy didn't know that! Against all odds, he'd done something none of these assholes could and they sent their middle-guy to come and sneer at him as if he were a waste of space or a stain on their gloomy establishment. Oh, yeah! He had to rush and get himself cleaned up! What did they think was he gonna do? Mess up their pretty floor?
"Well, I gotta tell ya," Rudy said with a cheerful smile, no longer bothered by the blood on his hand and using it to lever himself up enough to get his feet underneath and back in a standing position. His whole backside was wet and sticky with blood, but he stood relaxed as if it were just a part of his outfit. Standing now, he had to look up slightly to meet the guy's eyes - freaking giant-people with their obscene height! - but he didn't let that affect his laid-back manner and when he started talking his voice sped up easily, each new thought bursting forth from his lips like rapid gunfire.
"It definitely wasn't easy. The experience was a bit like that movie, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, except 10 times worse. I of course played the part of the ever witty Steve Martin and she played the role of the fat, lovable idiot. Except minus the lovable part. The flippin' whale made me lose two of my phones and everyone within a few feet of us was suddenly overcome with the urge to lay into me for no fucking reason. Like, attack of the meat puppets, man. And this," he indicated his body and face with a small circular wave of his hand. "Just a flesh wound. I can deal with it later. You know, pump myself full of antibiotics and anesthetics and just 'slap a bandaid' on it. Preferably one with Spiderman on the back or Hello Kitty - by the way, superhero themed bandages actually work to heal you faster. I kid you not.
"And what the hell do you mean 'the condition I brought her in'?" he asked, suddenly getting an annoyed tone to his quick, clipped voice. "What are you--An A-fuckin'-10? Who the hell do you think you are? This is bullshit. So, I smacked her around a bit. I think it was more than warranted for the the situations in order to subdue her, especially after she killed my assistant and I was left alone having to deal with her. Sorry. My bad. I shoulda stopped to brush her hair and put a frickin' bow on her after the mind-controlled police officer shot me in the chest. Any other important suggestions you wanna make to me, a superior Lead Agent? I'll take it all down and put it in a memo titled 'Use This When You Run Out Of Toilet Paper.'
"Anyways, right now, I'm just a little peeved that Stephanie isn't an immediate part of the welcome wagon. I'm sorry - no offense - but I really didn't want to answer to and explain myself to a nobody or rather her new fuck-buddy or whoever the hell you are. No doubt if you're working anywhere close to her you got the chance to tap the Agency Slut and I'm sure she's 'busy' right now giving someone else a taste of something we've all gotten a bite of," including her superiors, Rudy thought with a small unkind grin. 'Rising star' my ass.
"But I'm over 9,000 percent positive that she has time to close her legs long enough to talk to me and hear what I have to say, since I'M the one who did her fucking job for her. I didn't have to abandon my target, who is probably miles away from where I left her by now, to make this stupid fucking delivery. That shit ain't free and I'm owed a very specific favor. It's an insult that your 'Lead' is not here to personally witness the result of my efforts." Again, he made a small motion over his person as if it weren't obvious to anyone who even glanced at him.
"So, quit wasting my time, you useless A-20 loser and get out of my way, okay?" he said, sweetening the comment with a dorky grin. There. That should get him what he wanted and he'd definitely put the other man in his place. Not only that, but he was probably tired of hearing Rudy talk by now and would willingly point him in the right direction just so he didn't have to deal with him anymore. It was how it always worked when Rudy opened his mouth. He loved how easily pliable people were.
Standing there, face to face with the dark pair, their aura decidedly foreign and clinging to a sense of propriety and dignity that Stephanie could not touch with her fully tainted American blood, it was like looking into a twisted mirror of herself and Jason. Glancing back the way she'd come, longingly waiting for him, once again feeling a weight on her shoulders that inspired a heartbreaking fear inside - what was that? Something was breaking... something was very wrong... he could fix it...he could - she clutched apathetically at the Pup, once again scratching at pudgy, soft skin and trying to stifle the urge to scream.
A battle raged within her as Benoit stepped forward to usher her into the room, Stephanie surreptitiously glaring at her shadow-haired mirror image for no reason other than an irrational jealousy, delight filling her as the French Agent was freed from her, walking back into the room he'd just left. And yet still, another part of her wanted to shove him away, push him back into the dark embrace of that seductress, even as she wanted to keep her from him and keep them from each other, as she and Jason were separated. Where is he?
Upon entering the room, Stephanie took everything in once more - the glorious tanks she'd just finished describing to the Puppy set along the wall still, now moved aside to fit the newcomer into the middle, their red glow soothing and yet setting her heart to galloping through her chest. And there, in that space just by the wall where he'd set the feed of his goggles like a movie theater, was where Jason had... A pleasant shiver coursed through her to remember being in his arms, his lips dancing over hers, passion filling him and surging into her like she was a wire plugged into him and brought to electric life. Even so, a pang of regret quickly followed to remember the elevator ride that preceded her return to the room. It was odd to think of what happened and she wasn't really sure what had triggered the memory now, but she was not fond of how strong it been and how much everything still hurt from so long ago. Most of all, she really hoped it wasn't something Jason would want to talk about or feel conflicted by. Heaven forbid the past should control her life again and end up pushing him away. Cookies would help. And tequila would smooth everything over.
Her hands kept a firm hold on the Pup, even though they'd now "arrived" and he was done escorting her, seeming to comfort herself in Jason's absence by cutting and recutting into his palm with her fingernails. The position was a tad awkward, their elbows locked together and her opposite hand reaching across herself to clutch at the hand of the arm she'd captured. But standing there...remembering Jason's body and hands...looking up at the empty, soulless bodies of ex-Agents and feeling the yearning pull to become one of their ranks and escape the shadow of inner demons... She dared not let go, lest she fall apart right here. Right in front of Master. That was a fear that still shocked her into alertness, especially when she tricked herself into thinking she caught a whiff of Jason's scent still lingering in the air and worried frantically for a moment that the others could detect it too.
Because along with the memory of her recent "conversation" with Jason, she also remembered her talk with Master in this room from before. She'd reached her final decision to keep her partner with her and although she didn't think it'd be important or that he'd bring it up right now, she felt like someone had doused her face in ice cold water being inserted back into the room with him here. She felt exposed and almost transparent, her eyes trying to stay on the jars along the one side of the room but occasionally drawn to that spot again, instantly darting to glance guiltily at Master. Trying to tell herself she was silly and acting foolish, she shoved the internal battle aside and cleared her throat, glancing at Benoit finally to keep her eyes busy.
"So, this is the great 'guest?'" she asked with the slightest doubtful inflection in her voice. It wasn't as if it was completely unbelievable. He had the standard Agency look - fit, good height and strong build - although hair a bit longer than what was normally seen or permitted on field Agents. But other than that, her interest hit a brick wall. This was Benoit's part of the plan reaching it's setting stage and she was glad for it, she really was... but it brought back to the forefront her anxiety about Rudy arriving safely with something other than a corpse on Charlton's doorstep. And he was just the type to consider that a "mission completed" from what she remembered about him.
Still, it did no good to pout in front of the Master, even as bile rose in the back of her throat along with thoughts of a thoroughly cooked Gwendolyn Stewart flashing in her mind, and Stephanie set her chin and forced a serene smile to her lips. "After a long road trip, it looks like things are finally coming together, the trap fitting in place. Feels like we set up this plan ages ago..." She swallowed, briefly sneered at nothing, then smiled insincerely as she re-focused on the French Agent. "How exactly will the reverse transfer work? He's been gone for a while hasn't he? Does he know how the process is done? Even if it's not much different from a regular transfer, I can't imagine that things are the same as they once were. I know the important part of the plan is to have him stuck in the middle of transferring - or at least it originally was - but are you positive you can keep him distracted with this long enough?"
Without realizing it, something had entered her tone, but even though it alarmed her, she allowed it to stay as she laughed humorlessly. "I don't mean to be rude, but ever since this partnership started, you and your team have been as much responsible for failure as my own. I don't want to shove in your face the very deliberate 'allowing him to get away because you expected him to fall over' or something, from the apartment building - and that turned out perfectly, didn't it? Scraped him right off of the side-walk, didn't you? And the very lackadaisical air with which you handled your pursuit, following behind him at a specific distance and stopping for fucking breakfast when we were just a few miles away from them. Oh, and Jean was excellent on his own, clearly efficient, at least wounding him enough to slow him down before underestimating his power and paying the price for his mistake - what a way to retire from the case!"
She took a shaking breath and turned to look at the tanks again with shiny eyes. "I want to have faith in you. I want to think that this'll work. But this part of the plan will effect both of us and I'll not have you ruining my part of it just because he surprised you. I will not fail like you have for 6 years - or however long you've been chasing the same person and allowing them to get away over and over again. But if you DO fail in keeping him tied up with this...whatever, I will not hesitate to do what needs to be done to protect her from him. Regardless of what that means for you or whoever might take your place." Not that she was directly saying she fully expected him to die in failure but...well, yeah. And of course, by "necessary actions" she wasn't overtly implying that she'd kill his target either, but...a bullet to the brain could happen to anybody. Even the all-powerful and mighty "Xander". And it'd definitely put an end to a very real problem.
The bitter annoyance didn't leave her voice as she once again cleared her throat and asked, "So, how exactly does it work?" feigning just enough interest for now and hoping Benoit said something that restored some semblance of hope that she wouldn't be left to deal with this alone. Rudy's impending failure to deliver what he promised had her feeling incredibly pessimistic about everything - she was surrounded by incompetent fools and she did not want to lose herself in their ranks. She would not and at this point it wasn't a matter of choice. Once Gwen was in her arms, she would die before letting her go...and kill everything that came within 50 feet of them both until she'd gotten her prize.
But then a different kind of tension started to creep in replacing the other as he went on. First, there was a brief mention of a 'coffee thing' and for a few seconds she was left quirking an eyebrow in confusion trying to figure out what he was talking about. Yeah, they'd gotten coffee and...? She wasn't sure exactly what she was missing. His quick correction and addition didn't really help, the new statements climbing over the previous one haphazardly fitting together but not really. Sure...death threats and people in line... but so far she hadn't really witnessed anything like that from him. In fact, Ozzie had been the one to start shit in Starbucks, not him. And she hadn't really been paying attention when he'd ordered... Was he talking about when he attacked those people and stole their coffee? Then why bring up waiting in line and ordering at all?
Despite the confusion, the earlier ease that had settled on her shoulders allowed her to shrug it off and nod her head in relaxed understanding - even though she didn't really. She rolled her eyes when he gave a very abrupt answer to her question about his foot - obviously the damn thing was not fine, but if he wanted to act like a macho man and brush off the one time she tried to show concern, then he could knock himself out. But then he changed gears and started to explain things a bit more indepth to her and she snorted briefly when he said it was "nothing serious". Yeah, okay, so maybe he was trying to make up for the "mushy" feeling in the car by acting like a hot shot now and she had to admit that despite it being just as annoying as him whining, it was also a little amusing.
Jumping a little when he suddenly told her to 'slow down' she glanced at him as if he were crazy. "I'm not going very fast, ya big baby," Ozzie said in a slightly irritated tone, shrugging with her eyes once again fastened on the road. Even so, she slowed down from going 10 over the 55 mph limit to just 60 and tried to keep the car from rocking too much, based on the assumption that pain had caused the outburst.
She'd almost relaxed again when another surge of tension twisted in her shoulders at his mention of "a different part of himself". What...what did that mean? Immediately, Osono thought he was probably referring to the internal/psychic connection he had with Gwen, but something about the begrudging and doubtful way he said it tickled the back of her mind. Trying to tell herself she was crazy, she shoved the feeling aside and rolled her shoulders, frowning at the road as he went on, the tension subsiding but staying put and lurking in her shoulder blades and spine. Out of the corner of her eyes, while on a particularly smooth and straight expanse of highway, she caught him turning away from her and coughing and that really didn't help the growing suspicions or the half-extended concern she felt towards him at the moment. Just sitting here, the car barely jolting around and the guy was going through agony. Had she just not noticed how bad it was before?
Then she decided that no, that wasn't it, as he continued to speak, bringing up the restaurant fight. She's been a bit preoccupied at the time, but she DID remember seeing him fight and being impressed by the way he'd moved. Glancing at the cringing, coughing thing sitting in the seat next to her now, Osono once again returned to that "other part of me is handling it" comment he'd made. How could he move like a ninja at one time and then fall over, pass out and struggle to stand like a newborn baby deer the next? Had things really been that physically taxing between then and now? They hadn't done anything, certainly nothing to handicap him where going 60 mph in the smoothly cruising and practically brand new Audi - and with shocks that moved like creamy butter - made him ball up in physical torment. They couldn't be moving less inside their little cocoon if they'd been sitting still - and Ozzie was in no way a crazy driver, despite the speeds she was going.
All of that could be set aside as idle suspicions and fantasy - he'd already explained all of this to her about the protective powers Gwen had extended to him and the copy Gwen had left of herself in his mind to keep him company - and she could easily disregard it as silly and foolish idle wonderings encouraged by the recent stress of events. But several red flags shot way into the air when he started to go over what to expect when they got to Charlton and mentioned a "side-quest" that would render him unable to fight for an unknown length of time - was he planning on passing out again? And to top it all off, there was something very odd about the way he said these people would be expecting him.
Again, if he'd been traveling with and protecting Gwen for a while, it made sense for the Agents who were after her to also know about him and expect him to try to rescue her. But that tickling flared up, blaring loudly in the back of her head, itching like crazy with suspicion and doubts. And once it started it wouldn't stop, unable to be pushed down and silenced again, realizations and theories dawning on her like lightbulbs flashing on in a darkened room. All at once, she felt a small flash of anger at how he'd lied - and he DID lie, she was sure of it now, everything fitting together so perfectly, it couldn't go back to the original mold - but then amusement followed, making her want to laugh at how simple everything was and how she'd stupidly ignored the obvious.
"Alex," she said, her nose crinkling a little and a faint smile touching her lips. Glancing at him, she made sure she had his attention before continuing. "Do you have powers?" A look crossed his face, quickly shuffled under the outer layers of skin like a broken vase under the living room carpet, but she saw it and nodded to herself with a small raspy laugh as she focused back on the road. "Heh, 'kay." No need for further explanation, although it certainly would be welcome. After foolishly taking that crap he'd given her about Gwen, she was pretty open to anything that might resemble the truth. Of course, then again, at the time, she'd been willing to assume anything about Gwen, having just learned about someone else having powers other than herself. Alex had shot that to pieces when he'd opened the box of what the Agents intended goals were. Anybody could have them now and it was much more likely that Alex possessed some of his own and that he himself was a threat to be captured rather than going in a roundabout circle to say he was riding on Gwen's coattails.
And that was another thing.
"And that thing in your head...? Your 'mumble buddy'?" she looked at him again and although he was much more guarded this time, she'd already made up her mind and wasn't really asking him anymore. "Gotcha."
Slowly she let out a breath and shook her head a little as she passed someone going to slow in front of her, the turn signal providing a clicking soundtrack to the otherwise smooth transition. "Well, I don't know what you've gotta do or whatever and it's really none of my business. But I'm there to help you out and keep the both of you safe until we're free and away. So, 'one-woman army'? I can do that." She made a small finger gun and clicked her tongue as she winked in his general direction - not chancing another glance at the moment as a large truck inched close to the car's backside, keeping an eye on it in the rearview.
"And don't worry about there being oil or gas. It'd be nice to have around, and definitely make things easier, but you know..." she shrugged. "I'll work with whatever's available."
If it was an office building like the one where they'd found the other two, then it might be a little difficult to get things going and it was very likely that the only thing flammable would be human flesh and whatever people were wearing. Ozzie didn't really plan on using too much fire anyway, except as a last resort. Because if there was any kind of alarm system like in the other building, then she'd be screwed as soon as the sprinklers started. She could still heat everything up and dry everything out and push the fire to stay alive despite the moisture, but it was a sap on her energy that she did not need in a tight situation like this.
Luckily, being in the car and sitting down again was giving her back what she'd lost from the last fight, but she had to be careful. It wasn't going to work to go barging in there covered head to toe in flames and whipping fire around uselessly if it was going to leave her empty and drained before they found Gwen and started to make their escape. So, she'd be cautious when using her powers, only releasing it when it was necessary and rely on physical attacks for the most part. And now that these people weren't useful for codes or anything, she didn't need to pull her punches anymore. That meant quick and easy knock-outs and plenty of broken bones to spare. Thinking that, she smiled again, feeling a small burst of adrenaline burst through her.
This was obviously a low-level Agent, closely related to the Stewart case - no doubt Stephanie's newest little lackey by the terms the guy used - of a moderate high rank, judging by the suit he wore, although Rudy couldn't remember if it was A-6's or A-5's who got to wear them. Hmm, maybe you had to be A-4? Whatever. This wasn't what he'd expected and it definitely wasn't what he felt he deserved. Especially not with the tone the other man was taking with him, directing him to get cleaned up as if he were a parent telling a child not to embarrass them in front of company.
He didn't know this man, but Rudy prided himself in reading people and he knew when others were seeing the word "Idiot" written on his face. He also knew how to make the situation better and worse, and despite being used to being labeled as an incompetent fool, it was still not something he enjoyed. He was an A-3 and the Lead on a very big case! Technically Eric Patten had demoted him, but this pompous pretty-boy didn't know that! Against all odds, he'd done something none of these assholes could and they sent their middle-guy to come and sneer at him as if he were a waste of space or a stain on their gloomy establishment. Oh, yeah! He had to rush and get himself cleaned up! What did they think was he gonna do? Mess up their pretty floor?
"Well, I gotta tell ya," Rudy said with a cheerful smile, no longer bothered by the blood on his hand and using it to lever himself up enough to get his feet underneath and back in a standing position. His whole backside was wet and sticky with blood, but he stood relaxed as if it were just a part of his outfit. Standing now, he had to look up slightly to meet the guy's eyes - freaking giant-people with their obscene height! - but he didn't let that affect his laid-back manner and when he started talking his voice sped up easily, each new thought bursting forth from his lips like rapid gunfire.
"It definitely wasn't easy. The experience was a bit like that movie, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, except 10 times worse. I of course played the part of the ever witty Steve Martin and she played the role of the fat, lovable idiot. Except minus the lovable part. The flippin' whale made me lose two of my phones and everyone within a few feet of us was suddenly overcome with the urge to lay into me for no fucking reason. Like, attack of the meat puppets, man. And this," he indicated his body and face with a small circular wave of his hand. "Just a flesh wound. I can deal with it later. You know, pump myself full of antibiotics and anesthetics and just 'slap a bandaid' on it. Preferably one with Spiderman on the back or Hello Kitty - by the way, superhero themed bandages actually work to heal you faster. I kid you not.
"And what the hell do you mean 'the condition I brought her in'?" he asked, suddenly getting an annoyed tone to his quick, clipped voice. "What are you--An A-fuckin'-10? Who the hell do you think you are? This is bullshit. So, I smacked her around a bit. I think it was more than warranted for the the situations in order to subdue her, especially after she killed my assistant and I was left alone having to deal with her. Sorry. My bad. I shoulda stopped to brush her hair and put a frickin' bow on her after the mind-controlled police officer shot me in the chest. Any other important suggestions you wanna make to me, a superior Lead Agent? I'll take it all down and put it in a memo titled 'Use This When You Run Out Of Toilet Paper.'
"Anyways, right now, I'm just a little peeved that Stephanie isn't an immediate part of the welcome wagon. I'm sorry - no offense - but I really didn't want to answer to and explain myself to a nobody or rather her new fuck-buddy or whoever the hell you are. No doubt if you're working anywhere close to her you got the chance to tap the Agency Slut and I'm sure she's 'busy' right now giving someone else a taste of something we've all gotten a bite of," including her superiors, Rudy thought with a small unkind grin. 'Rising star' my ass.
"But I'm over 9,000 percent positive that she has time to close her legs long enough to talk to me and hear what I have to say, since I'M the one who did her fucking job for her. I didn't have to abandon my target, who is probably miles away from where I left her by now, to make this stupid fucking delivery. That shit ain't free and I'm owed a very specific favor. It's an insult that your 'Lead' is not here to personally witness the result of my efforts." Again, he made a small motion over his person as if it weren't obvious to anyone who even glanced at him.
"So, quit wasting my time, you useless A-20 loser and get out of my way, okay?" he said, sweetening the comment with a dorky grin. There. That should get him what he wanted and he'd definitely put the other man in his place. Not only that, but he was probably tired of hearing Rudy talk by now and would willingly point him in the right direction just so he didn't have to deal with him anymore. It was how it always worked when Rudy opened his mouth. He loved how easily pliable people were.
***
As Benoit appeared from the doorway, his eyes lighting up with relief for once at the sight of her, there was a very brief moment when amusement twinkled in Stephanie's eyes to see the beautiful black swan encircling his arm like a python. Such a cute couple, she thought wonderingly, once again admiring Madeline's beauty before wincing slightly at the A-2's screeching voice. Then there was the flutter of something within Stephanie's breast, something deep inside the pit of her stomach that curdled at the image the two presented. That almost frantic whisper in Benoit's eye mixed with a little glimmer of pain as his arm was hugged tighter; the possessive and obviously painful squeeze the woman put on his limb; the defensive tone she took with him just bordering and hinting at something below the appropriate public relationship.Standing there, face to face with the dark pair, their aura decidedly foreign and clinging to a sense of propriety and dignity that Stephanie could not touch with her fully tainted American blood, it was like looking into a twisted mirror of herself and Jason. Glancing back the way she'd come, longingly waiting for him, once again feeling a weight on her shoulders that inspired a heartbreaking fear inside - what was that? Something was breaking... something was very wrong... he could fix it...he could - she clutched apathetically at the Pup, once again scratching at pudgy, soft skin and trying to stifle the urge to scream.
A battle raged within her as Benoit stepped forward to usher her into the room, Stephanie surreptitiously glaring at her shadow-haired mirror image for no reason other than an irrational jealousy, delight filling her as the French Agent was freed from her, walking back into the room he'd just left. And yet still, another part of her wanted to shove him away, push him back into the dark embrace of that seductress, even as she wanted to keep her from him and keep them from each other, as she and Jason were separated. Where is he?
Upon entering the room, Stephanie took everything in once more - the glorious tanks she'd just finished describing to the Puppy set along the wall still, now moved aside to fit the newcomer into the middle, their red glow soothing and yet setting her heart to galloping through her chest. And there, in that space just by the wall where he'd set the feed of his goggles like a movie theater, was where Jason had... A pleasant shiver coursed through her to remember being in his arms, his lips dancing over hers, passion filling him and surging into her like she was a wire plugged into him and brought to electric life. Even so, a pang of regret quickly followed to remember the elevator ride that preceded her return to the room. It was odd to think of what happened and she wasn't really sure what had triggered the memory now, but she was not fond of how strong it been and how much everything still hurt from so long ago. Most of all, she really hoped it wasn't something Jason would want to talk about or feel conflicted by. Heaven forbid the past should control her life again and end up pushing him away. Cookies would help. And tequila would smooth everything over.
Her hands kept a firm hold on the Pup, even though they'd now "arrived" and he was done escorting her, seeming to comfort herself in Jason's absence by cutting and recutting into his palm with her fingernails. The position was a tad awkward, their elbows locked together and her opposite hand reaching across herself to clutch at the hand of the arm she'd captured. But standing there...remembering Jason's body and hands...looking up at the empty, soulless bodies of ex-Agents and feeling the yearning pull to become one of their ranks and escape the shadow of inner demons... She dared not let go, lest she fall apart right here. Right in front of Master. That was a fear that still shocked her into alertness, especially when she tricked herself into thinking she caught a whiff of Jason's scent still lingering in the air and worried frantically for a moment that the others could detect it too.
Because along with the memory of her recent "conversation" with Jason, she also remembered her talk with Master in this room from before. She'd reached her final decision to keep her partner with her and although she didn't think it'd be important or that he'd bring it up right now, she felt like someone had doused her face in ice cold water being inserted back into the room with him here. She felt exposed and almost transparent, her eyes trying to stay on the jars along the one side of the room but occasionally drawn to that spot again, instantly darting to glance guiltily at Master. Trying to tell herself she was silly and acting foolish, she shoved the internal battle aside and cleared her throat, glancing at Benoit finally to keep her eyes busy.
"So, this is the great 'guest?'" she asked with the slightest doubtful inflection in her voice. It wasn't as if it was completely unbelievable. He had the standard Agency look - fit, good height and strong build - although hair a bit longer than what was normally seen or permitted on field Agents. But other than that, her interest hit a brick wall. This was Benoit's part of the plan reaching it's setting stage and she was glad for it, she really was... but it brought back to the forefront her anxiety about Rudy arriving safely with something other than a corpse on Charlton's doorstep. And he was just the type to consider that a "mission completed" from what she remembered about him.
Still, it did no good to pout in front of the Master, even as bile rose in the back of her throat along with thoughts of a thoroughly cooked Gwendolyn Stewart flashing in her mind, and Stephanie set her chin and forced a serene smile to her lips. "After a long road trip, it looks like things are finally coming together, the trap fitting in place. Feels like we set up this plan ages ago..." She swallowed, briefly sneered at nothing, then smiled insincerely as she re-focused on the French Agent. "How exactly will the reverse transfer work? He's been gone for a while hasn't he? Does he know how the process is done? Even if it's not much different from a regular transfer, I can't imagine that things are the same as they once were. I know the important part of the plan is to have him stuck in the middle of transferring - or at least it originally was - but are you positive you can keep him distracted with this long enough?"
Without realizing it, something had entered her tone, but even though it alarmed her, she allowed it to stay as she laughed humorlessly. "I don't mean to be rude, but ever since this partnership started, you and your team have been as much responsible for failure as my own. I don't want to shove in your face the very deliberate 'allowing him to get away because you expected him to fall over' or something, from the apartment building - and that turned out perfectly, didn't it? Scraped him right off of the side-walk, didn't you? And the very lackadaisical air with which you handled your pursuit, following behind him at a specific distance and stopping for fucking breakfast when we were just a few miles away from them. Oh, and Jean was excellent on his own, clearly efficient, at least wounding him enough to slow him down before underestimating his power and paying the price for his mistake - what a way to retire from the case!"
She took a shaking breath and turned to look at the tanks again with shiny eyes. "I want to have faith in you. I want to think that this'll work. But this part of the plan will effect both of us and I'll not have you ruining my part of it just because he surprised you. I will not fail like you have for 6 years - or however long you've been chasing the same person and allowing them to get away over and over again. But if you DO fail in keeping him tied up with this...whatever, I will not hesitate to do what needs to be done to protect her from him. Regardless of what that means for you or whoever might take your place." Not that she was directly saying she fully expected him to die in failure but...well, yeah. And of course, by "necessary actions" she wasn't overtly implying that she'd kill his target either, but...a bullet to the brain could happen to anybody. Even the all-powerful and mighty "Xander". And it'd definitely put an end to a very real problem.
The bitter annoyance didn't leave her voice as she once again cleared her throat and asked, "So, how exactly does it work?" feigning just enough interest for now and hoping Benoit said something that restored some semblance of hope that she wouldn't be left to deal with this alone. Rudy's impending failure to deliver what he promised had her feeling incredibly pessimistic about everything - she was surrounded by incompetent fools and she did not want to lose herself in their ranks. She would not and at this point it wasn't a matter of choice. Once Gwen was in her arms, she would die before letting her go...and kill everything that came within 50 feet of them both until she'd gotten her prize.
***
The general mood in the car - specifically Osono's - greatly improved when Alex started to speak. Which seemed a bit contradictory for how she'd felt before, but things were a bit different now. She'd actually, seriously apologized for once and had fully expected him to either be a bastard about it or to get sappy about it, thus making her regret saying anything. But he did neither, his tone understanding but not overly sympathetic and even tossing in another joke about himself. It made her fully release the tension she'd felt building and actually let the situation rest and fully put it behind them. Okay, so maybe she didn't actually hate him afterall and he could be alright some of the time.But then a different kind of tension started to creep in replacing the other as he went on. First, there was a brief mention of a 'coffee thing' and for a few seconds she was left quirking an eyebrow in confusion trying to figure out what he was talking about. Yeah, they'd gotten coffee and...? She wasn't sure exactly what she was missing. His quick correction and addition didn't really help, the new statements climbing over the previous one haphazardly fitting together but not really. Sure...death threats and people in line... but so far she hadn't really witnessed anything like that from him. In fact, Ozzie had been the one to start shit in Starbucks, not him. And she hadn't really been paying attention when he'd ordered... Was he talking about when he attacked those people and stole their coffee? Then why bring up waiting in line and ordering at all?
Despite the confusion, the earlier ease that had settled on her shoulders allowed her to shrug it off and nod her head in relaxed understanding - even though she didn't really. She rolled her eyes when he gave a very abrupt answer to her question about his foot - obviously the damn thing was not fine, but if he wanted to act like a macho man and brush off the one time she tried to show concern, then he could knock himself out. But then he changed gears and started to explain things a bit more indepth to her and she snorted briefly when he said it was "nothing serious". Yeah, okay, so maybe he was trying to make up for the "mushy" feeling in the car by acting like a hot shot now and she had to admit that despite it being just as annoying as him whining, it was also a little amusing.
Jumping a little when he suddenly told her to 'slow down' she glanced at him as if he were crazy. "I'm not going very fast, ya big baby," Ozzie said in a slightly irritated tone, shrugging with her eyes once again fastened on the road. Even so, she slowed down from going 10 over the 55 mph limit to just 60 and tried to keep the car from rocking too much, based on the assumption that pain had caused the outburst.
She'd almost relaxed again when another surge of tension twisted in her shoulders at his mention of "a different part of himself". What...what did that mean? Immediately, Osono thought he was probably referring to the internal/psychic connection he had with Gwen, but something about the begrudging and doubtful way he said it tickled the back of her mind. Trying to tell herself she was crazy, she shoved the feeling aside and rolled her shoulders, frowning at the road as he went on, the tension subsiding but staying put and lurking in her shoulder blades and spine. Out of the corner of her eyes, while on a particularly smooth and straight expanse of highway, she caught him turning away from her and coughing and that really didn't help the growing suspicions or the half-extended concern she felt towards him at the moment. Just sitting here, the car barely jolting around and the guy was going through agony. Had she just not noticed how bad it was before?
Then she decided that no, that wasn't it, as he continued to speak, bringing up the restaurant fight. She's been a bit preoccupied at the time, but she DID remember seeing him fight and being impressed by the way he'd moved. Glancing at the cringing, coughing thing sitting in the seat next to her now, Osono once again returned to that "other part of me is handling it" comment he'd made. How could he move like a ninja at one time and then fall over, pass out and struggle to stand like a newborn baby deer the next? Had things really been that physically taxing between then and now? They hadn't done anything, certainly nothing to handicap him where going 60 mph in the smoothly cruising and practically brand new Audi - and with shocks that moved like creamy butter - made him ball up in physical torment. They couldn't be moving less inside their little cocoon if they'd been sitting still - and Ozzie was in no way a crazy driver, despite the speeds she was going.
All of that could be set aside as idle suspicions and fantasy - he'd already explained all of this to her about the protective powers Gwen had extended to him and the copy Gwen had left of herself in his mind to keep him company - and she could easily disregard it as silly and foolish idle wonderings encouraged by the recent stress of events. But several red flags shot way into the air when he started to go over what to expect when they got to Charlton and mentioned a "side-quest" that would render him unable to fight for an unknown length of time - was he planning on passing out again? And to top it all off, there was something very odd about the way he said these people would be expecting him.
Again, if he'd been traveling with and protecting Gwen for a while, it made sense for the Agents who were after her to also know about him and expect him to try to rescue her. But that tickling flared up, blaring loudly in the back of her head, itching like crazy with suspicion and doubts. And once it started it wouldn't stop, unable to be pushed down and silenced again, realizations and theories dawning on her like lightbulbs flashing on in a darkened room. All at once, she felt a small flash of anger at how he'd lied - and he DID lie, she was sure of it now, everything fitting together so perfectly, it couldn't go back to the original mold - but then amusement followed, making her want to laugh at how simple everything was and how she'd stupidly ignored the obvious.
"Alex," she said, her nose crinkling a little and a faint smile touching her lips. Glancing at him, she made sure she had his attention before continuing. "Do you have powers?" A look crossed his face, quickly shuffled under the outer layers of skin like a broken vase under the living room carpet, but she saw it and nodded to herself with a small raspy laugh as she focused back on the road. "Heh, 'kay." No need for further explanation, although it certainly would be welcome. After foolishly taking that crap he'd given her about Gwen, she was pretty open to anything that might resemble the truth. Of course, then again, at the time, she'd been willing to assume anything about Gwen, having just learned about someone else having powers other than herself. Alex had shot that to pieces when he'd opened the box of what the Agents intended goals were. Anybody could have them now and it was much more likely that Alex possessed some of his own and that he himself was a threat to be captured rather than going in a roundabout circle to say he was riding on Gwen's coattails.
And that was another thing.
"And that thing in your head...? Your 'mumble buddy'?" she looked at him again and although he was much more guarded this time, she'd already made up her mind and wasn't really asking him anymore. "Gotcha."
Slowly she let out a breath and shook her head a little as she passed someone going to slow in front of her, the turn signal providing a clicking soundtrack to the otherwise smooth transition. "Well, I don't know what you've gotta do or whatever and it's really none of my business. But I'm there to help you out and keep the both of you safe until we're free and away. So, 'one-woman army'? I can do that." She made a small finger gun and clicked her tongue as she winked in his general direction - not chancing another glance at the moment as a large truck inched close to the car's backside, keeping an eye on it in the rearview.
"And don't worry about there being oil or gas. It'd be nice to have around, and definitely make things easier, but you know..." she shrugged. "I'll work with whatever's available."
If it was an office building like the one where they'd found the other two, then it might be a little difficult to get things going and it was very likely that the only thing flammable would be human flesh and whatever people were wearing. Ozzie didn't really plan on using too much fire anyway, except as a last resort. Because if there was any kind of alarm system like in the other building, then she'd be screwed as soon as the sprinklers started. She could still heat everything up and dry everything out and push the fire to stay alive despite the moisture, but it was a sap on her energy that she did not need in a tight situation like this.
Luckily, being in the car and sitting down again was giving her back what she'd lost from the last fight, but she had to be careful. It wasn't going to work to go barging in there covered head to toe in flames and whipping fire around uselessly if it was going to leave her empty and drained before they found Gwen and started to make their escape. So, she'd be cautious when using her powers, only releasing it when it was necessary and rely on physical attacks for the most part. And now that these people weren't useful for codes or anything, she didn't need to pull her punches anymore. That meant quick and easy knock-outs and plenty of broken bones to spare. Thinking that, she smiled again, feeling a small burst of adrenaline burst through her.
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Fri Jan 14, 2011 3:51 am
She crossed the line.
As her words changed, so did his; before a sound escaped his lips, a seething wave rose up and out of him – but Eric, the one person who would have been the most interested in hearing Benoit erupt, stopped him from saying anything. The man gave it away when his eyes lit up. Benoit knew that look; he’d been plagued with it for weeks before he finally gave in and let the fool prance around his case. Behind his lenses, his eyes tore from March to the A-1. What she said... He would deal with it shortly. If Eric was up to something, and he always was, they had to be sure the ground on which they tread was stable.
‘Retire’. Well said, Miss Agent. That one word would haunt him for years.
“It doesn’t matter how it works,” he told her. His voice was low. Too low, because Eric had turned from hanging behind his latest friend and politely listening to her speak to readying himself for a fight. What should they say that was? Defending her? Hilarious. They were certainly getting along well. “The point is Alexander-the-guest has never used this technology before, save for enduring the transfer before his escape. If you’re so interested, ask your friend.”
He had meant the young one, Jason, the boy who insisted he knew how to operate the controls, but the giggly glob of cookie dust spoke instead.
“It aligns the nerves in one brain –”
“I don’t care.”
It shut him up. The fat man’s grin slid from his face when Benoit’s gaze was upon him. He went back to the mauling his new owner draped against his blubbery arm, of which he had yet offer a complaint over and frankly seemed honoured by.
“Don’t be mean, Benny,” Eric said. “The little guy was just trying to be helpful.”
Said ‘guy’ was as flattered by that as the clawing.
“As much as I appreciate the assistance, his aid is unnecessary.” He turned back to her. “And I appreciate your concern, as unnecessary as that is, too. My tactics are my own. I am under no obligation to explain them to you.”
“No one’s sayin’ you can’t do it,” Eric said. “We just like hearing it every now and then.”
They liked wasting his breath. He doubted any of them would follow along with why he worked the way he worked, simple though it was, and he lost all hope in March understanding if what she said had been what she truly believed. His candidacy for transfer was a strong reason for his assignment to this case, but the driving force was his success in the captures he had made before the Agents were officially established. He earned those victories because he had learned to understand what he faced before running into the fray. He took extra care when it came to Alexander, and those who instead insisted on rushing their work were dead.
Every.
Last.
One.
It made no sense for Jean to have fallen. He had every warning and example he needed for what awaited impatience and Benoit had explicitly heard him say he wasn’t so desperate for glory that he’d forget everything to run at the chance to take Alexander down, and he’d proven it a dozen times by stopping to think about what it meant to charge at someone who could kill him with a look, particularly after that very person had endlessly bragged about surpassing every defence the Agency had put up and could never stop gloating that he was the only one who knew Alexander’s weakness but if the son of a bitch had just co-operated and shared the knowledge before he botched his fucking transfer then Benoit would have countered it years ago and Jean would never have died. For starters.
“Alexander will not pose a threat,” he said – begrudgingly, if he was honest. “Mind your own case. Once she arrives, you can go.”
Then she could fall into whatever trap Eric had in store for her. The A-1 would never show any interest in a person unless they served some use in furthering his agenda. The reward of going along with it could only be said to outweigh its punishment if one considered ‘living’ good enough pay. He could warn her – should have, maybe – but... ‘retire’.
“I HATE THIS ROOM.” Madeline was back on his arm, crushing it. “WE ARE LEAVING.”
“So soon?”
Eric hadn’t meant it. The walrus, on the other hand...
“You can’t go! You’ve gotta tell me what’s going on! Is there gonna –” At once, his eyes bulged and his voice hushed, as if he was suddenly afraid of the wrong person overhearing. ... Who? Only the five of them were here. He hated lower levels. They were too impressed by everything. “Is there gonna be an attack?”
Bravo.
“Yes,” Benoit said. “Here.”
“In here?! But – we’re in here! I’m not trained for this!”
“Ask Eric. He brought you, not me.” He gestured to the grip on his left arm. “I have to leave. Orders.”
His eyes landed back on March. Madeline’s grip tightened. Immediately, and in direct response, Eric loomed over them again. So that was it. The fight had changed. Their increasingly apparent feud had reached a new phase and they had divvied up those around them to start a war in teams. He didn’t know if it was better or worse they picked this way rather than lunge at each other’s throats, which Eric had fuelled by giving Benoit over against his will, but that outburst, whether Gwendolyn’s lead had come up with it alone or had it planted in her head, had counted as a point for Eric and Madeline wanted it back. He could feel her pushing him to fire his own retort. No. For all the patience he had, he was not about to spend it playing their stupid game. If this was Eric’s agenda, it was shallow, and he was not surprised because what part of the man wasn’t?
“Keep it clean, kids,” the A-1 said. Then he shrugged. “Or not. Whatever takes more time.”
“THIS WOULD BE EASY IF YOU GO AWAY.” Madeline stopped pushing to him to answer and started pulling him towards the hallway instead. “THE NEXT TIME YOU DIE, PATTEN, STAY DEAD.”
“Watch it, Bergmann.” A happy flash of teeth swept that up, but before the memory was washed away in his immortal and ungodly cheer, Eric scratched the side of his glasses and Benoit felt her flinch. And then her nails were nearly digging into his bone. “Why can’t we just play nice? We’re all friends here! We’re a big ol’ Agency family!”
Madeline reacted to that as if it was the greatest insult he had ever given her, but she used a decidedly different tone when she answered. It was familiar; not unlike what he had used when Eric had ordered he sign Jean’s body over.
“STAY AWAY FROM ME,” she snapped.
“Ah, ah, ah!” The man wiggled a finger. “‘Stay away from me, sir’.”
She scoffed and sneered and then yanked on his arm like she was trying to rip it off. She wanted to go, now, and Benoit only held it against her because he knew he would have to escape again.
He didn’t move. He didn’t move because although he was not a soul of any sharp emotion when he worked, he felt a knife in his throat. The immediate thought should have been that it was below him or that, if it wasn’t, he would handle it when he was no longer pressed to lead other matters. Now, it almost made him change his mind about whether or not he went along with them. They would never let up until he did, because without him and March doing their dirty work, the fault was on them for being unprofessional. He cared less about that than anything else.
Let it go. Or be civil.
Neither?
“For the record, Miss Agent, this ‘partnership’ began when your subordinate fucked up. Keep in mind I haven’t blamed anyone for this mess, but I work on the rule of an eye for an eye and my colleague is dead.”
“You’re gonna kill Jason?”
Eric sounded surprised.
“I would never harm another Agent unless they attacked first. I’m not you.” The man grinned. Benoit would have scowled at him if he could mustered the interest. “I take your words as wisdom and not a threat in blind ignorance of my ability to retaliate. I swear to you, I will show the utmost prudence in keeping Alexander contained, because what a shame it would be if he found your goggled friend a third time.” He shrugged. “But he’ll be fine, I’m sure. And you’ll be fine. It isn’t as if he’s Gwen. Right, Eric?”
“Hmm?”
“How disposable are lower ranks?”
“Very,” Eric told them. He said it like a fact rather than a preference. “Some more than others. And some less,” he threw in breezily, which certainly had nothing to do with Madeline’s snort of anger.
“Then I am assured no one would have any need to mourn the name of one who died,” Benoit concluded. “And I am assured they would never bring it up again, not on the off-chance someone was. Never again, Miss Agent.” His eyes were on the woman facing him. She had made her point. “Ever.” So had he.
“THEY AGREE.”
With that decided, Madeline hauled on his arm. This time, Benoit walked out. He would run from her later and return to that room when it was time to strike, but for now, he’d stay quiet. He was sick of everyone. For five fucking minutes, they had to shut up, because he’d go mad by the end of the day if they refused.
“Xander...?”
I’m trying to plan how I’m gonna make my grand entrance. Should I be screaming something? Should I kill everyone at once or kind of leave a few to spread my glorious name, then come back and finish ‘em off later?
... Seriously?
This is gonna be the boss fight! Think about it, he said. The giant’s dead, that woman’s gonna be distracted, if suit-boy’s still around then I’ll just break his neck and be done with it and if Rudy’s there... He couldn’t’ve been giddier if he was on crack. The crack of life, buddy. I’m excited for this. The French guy’s all alone and I’m fuckin’ gunning for that doucheturd.
And then he went back to eating his Skittles – what little of them he could taste since he’d wrapped the beef jerky around them.
Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and for the first time since he’d gotten into this car, it wasn’t because of the foot. Alright, so... what was the protocol here? Because he noticed it changed from person to person on top of every five minutes. With Gwen, Alex got screamed at, but with Peter the truth had come out in practically a heartbeat, and in the end Peter had been working with the Agents while Gwen was one of the few people he felt could trust. But Xander had made the ‘let Peter know!’ call because he’d been in the Agency and had freaked over telling Gwen ‘cause he was paranoid of those guys sending someone else after him... so neither situation gave him a clue of what to do now.
The longer he took to the answer, the faster Osono was going to draw her own conclusions. She had already, technically, but there was still time to maybe... go back to acting like he was normal.
Xander, seriously.
You said you wanted me to train you. If he could’ve, Xander would’ve shrugged. Thirty-five.
“How in hell is this supposed to ‘train’ me? You’re leaving me out to dry,” Alex said inside his throat. “Handle this. Or at least –”
Another mouthful of Skittles was jammed in his mouth and he choked on them.
Figure it out, Xander said. Thirty-six.
Alex’s foot had reached a point where it didn’t take a break between the spasms anymore. They were very small trembles – practically hidden behind the shaking of the car, which had gone down immensely thanks to her going easier along the road – and they weren’t so much painful as irritating because they weren’t in his foot but his calf. There were a few sharp twinges that still hurt, but as long as he kept everything under his ankle steady, he was doing okay. Minus the upped intensity each minute.
He needed to get a better poker face.
“I –”
Much better. Like – actually get one. Please.
Thanks.
“It’s... not something I have an answer for exactly.” Which was the truth, considering he didn’t. The truth didn’t count if he wasn’t supposed to hand it out. Was he? “Just... Let’s stick with ‘no’. To everything – just... Yeah. I mean – ‘no’.” Crap. “Moving on...” To what? “Uh... Rudy. I mean –” Shit! “Not like that – it’s just...” Xander was enjoying himself immensely. “Okay, it didn’t look like he had anything specifically to fight you. He had that gun or whatever and that was weird, and that Agent – in the trunk – had a cat-suit and it could’ve been flame resistant. So... basically, is there anything you know about the Agency making weapons guaranteed to knock out your fire? ‘Cause that’s what we’re going to have to clear out first, before anything.”
If everything went as they expected it to and he was out for however long it took this transfer to finish, he had to be sure they weren’t leaving her fight off some sort of water god.
Too bad we don’t have those goggles, Xander said. They probably don’t have the access to it, but I could’ve taken a shot at shutting down any hoses lying around. And sprinklers.
“Is there any other way to do it?”
... Maybe?
Alex rolled his eyes.
“Well, you were the guy who couldn’t work a hotel phone.” But could, allegedly, fly a jet. And a train and a submarine and a tank. Allegedly. Not allegedly. “Maybe we can find someone in there...”
He might not’ve decided to answer directly, but he did let his voice rise just a tad higher than before. He’d gone right back into all-out whispering once Osono guessed – he was terrible at this – but even if he wasn’t going to go back to blatantly hiding behind an even more blatant lie – Xander was pretty damn good at it, considering it’d made sense for so long – he might as well stop holding out on her. She knew he was talking to someone, anyway. He just hoped she didn’t start asking for a name like Gwen had.
Thirty-eight. Who’s going in first?
“Huh?”
Tactics, man. ‘Tactics’? If you’re working with more than one person, you need to have some kind of plan.
“You didn’t ask for one at Elmira,” he muttered.
I didn’t really expect Gwen to have to fight. Here, I know Sparky’s goin’ in guns blazing and I’d prefer to know where I’m not supposed to stand. So who’s going in first?
“Why don’t you tell us? That’s your job.”
No, I don’t really work like that – that’s not exactly... He mind-shrugged again. I’m a do-it-myself-‘cause-everyone-else-is-stupid kind of guy. I don’t do ‘teams’. ‘Pairs’. Whatever the hell this is.
He was going to have to if this had any shot at working.
“Osono, who’s going in first? Because... I want to know where I should be.”
Thirty-nine.
Xander swooping in to talk cut off Alex’s short cry of pain.
“If they’re expecting me, they’re set up for me, so you’ll almost definitely catch ‘em off-guard right away, but if Rudy’s there, and he knows I’m hurt and he’ll probably guess you tagged along for the war, then it’s only a little less likely for them to’ve rigged a trap up for you. They’ll be lying in wait if they’re warned.” That was why Alex wanted to know if there was anything in store for her, but it sounded liked Xander just assumed they did. “If I go in, I can get them focused on me, giving you that tiny opening to smash ‘em in the face ‘cause they – for sure – won’t have time to switch over to anti-burn. It’s just a matter of whether or not I’m rested enough to get out of the way when they shoot.”
“Will you be?”
If you’d take the damn foot, I would.
Like that was happening.
Hmm...
“It’s not happening,” Alex snapped. “Stop thinking about it.”
It’s good practise for when you do have to do it.
“Easing me in’s going perfectly okay,” he said. “Don’t screw me over now.”
‘Screw you over’? Easing in’s for pussies, Xander told him. I’m making you weak. Throwing you in is the pain eater way – trust me.
“I don’t! Not at all! Not in the slightest,” Alex said.
Then I can’t promise anything. Then he added, Bitch.
Now Alex had double the dose of fun of dealing with what he was already going through and the new fear of Xander suddenly changing his mind and slamming the full of force of it into him. More than anything, he was going to enjoy not having to put up with this when the transfer-back-thing was over.
You’ll miss it when it’s gone, Xander hummed.
His foot wouldn’t. It was counting down to when they arrived. Four more hours if they kept going like this, but maybe three if they sped a little. He was torn between wanting to stay put and asking her to hurry. They had Gwen to find, he knew that perfectly well, but considering what they were going to be up against – if anything, because there hadn’t been a lot in their way at Elmira – he wasn’t fully in the mood to rush.
‘Whale’ hit him as very, very odd. Jason needed a moment to realize Quin was talking about his target. The shirt she’d been wearing barely fit her! He could hardly imagine what Eric would be called if Gwen was supposed to be a ‘whale’, especially if Quin didn’t recognize who he was talking to. Given how the man had switched bodies and he was quick to assume anyone he didn’t recognize was a lackey, this was going to be a very explosive and ultimately bloody introduction.
“First of all, keep your colourful comments to yourself. I’m giving you a warning because you won’t get one from my lead. Second, I don’t know what kind of warped reality you’re playing in, Quin, but that ‘condition’, those ‘few slaps’ – which, by the way, I remember Eric telling you exactly not to do, around the same time your tiny ass was cut in half – are almost exactly what my lead is going to pick up on. You should be grateful she’s not here to snap your neck this second. Congratulations, you have some time to come up with some crazy excuse for why you shouldn’t have a...” What was his lead’s thing? Oh yeah. “... a hand shoved through your throat. Honestly, I’m expecting it to happen even if you did bring her here, and I’m more than a little surprised Eric didn’t crush you already.” He’d said he was going to. It was going to be fun watching the two of them talk. “Finally, noble superior, you will watch your fucking mouth when you talk about Agency personnel. There’s no witnesses here, asshole, and I can break you like a twig.”
And that was everything he would have said if Quin hadn’t been a higher rank.
Dick.
“I apologize,” Jason said, trying to avoid talking through clenched teeth, “for any hardships you endured at the hand of my target. My condolences for the loss of your assistant, and I can assure you Agent March would be here if she wasn’t with...” Wait – where was she? She’d rushed upstairs, but where to? Had Eric found her? Gary? Benoit? ... Crazy German? “If she wasn’t preoccupied.”
What Quin had said about her was stupid. It was stupid because Quin was stupid. He was childish and petty and who the fuck did he think he was saying anything like that? Fantasy-Jason was right: there were no witnesses here. Would ever take advantage of it? No. He wasn’t that sort of person. But he wanted to. In his darkest corner, the urge was there, and he was keeping the shrimp’s words in a very reachable thread of memories. His hands, behind his back, tightened into fists.
“She’s preoccupied with talking to an A-1.” Just because he wasn’t going to snap Quin’s neck over it didn’t mean Jason wasn’t fighting back. He’d felt Eric’s voice when those two had been talking over the phone, and if knocking out the other side of this one’s mouth was off the table, he’d make his battle subtle. Jason worked well with subtle. It was one of his best talents. “The issues you faced on the way here were due to a lack of information. As such, I’m obligated to brief you on our current status in securing Stewart to prevent any further challenges in our work.” He sounded very professional. All of his practise was paying off. “We recently were joined by Eric Patten, who’s taken an interest in our work. He’s here now, actually. Upstairs. You’ll most likely see him when you find my lead. I’m sure he’ll be happy to reward you for your services on top of whatever she offers you. Have you met Eric before? He’s very influential. Whatever favour you feel you’re owed, he’ll undoubtedly be able to provide.”
Like ‘not being murdered for killing five of his team’. Was that specific enough, Quin?
“I ask that you be brief in your report to Agent March,” he went on. “She’s been in an aggressive mood lately and too many details might encourage... an unstable reaction.”
Jason couldn’t stop him from telling her, could he? The extent of his control over the situation didn’t go that far, but the very least he could do – had to do – was make sure she wasn’t hurt by the news. Was it better or worse for her to be told than to see the damage? Worse, he decided. At least if she saw, she’d feel better knowing she was now there to protect her future self.
That transfer was really going to happen. Soon, and he had yet to make up his mind about whether he should be... something.
“If you are going to tell her, you should be thorough. Be sure to mention your injuries, but I’d advise against withholding any details concerning Stewart’s physical state.” He nodded, as if this was a very wise choice. “The tranquilizers were a good idea, Agent Quin. Be sure to mention those. A lot.”
Yeah. Stephanie would love that.
“I’ll follow you to wherever you want to go. Lead the way. Sir.”
This guy was going to die. Jason would try to be respectful at the funeral.
The minute Madeline Bergmann was out of sight and the sound of the heels of her shoes had faded, something magical happened. Gary felt his muggy, mortal, un-miracle-y breath get taken and, instead, like he was riding a unicorn, rainbows and sugar wrapped him up and filled his beard with the sweet scent of... life. A shadow he hadn’t even noticed just up and disappeared, and it was all because that glorious wizard of glee had waved a sparkle wand and sent that thing packing. This was amazing – he had no idea he would ever be in a room with Stephanie March floating on his arm and a ginormous flashlight of everything beautiful in the world shining like the golden shun from the top of his head to the whole twenty million feet to his toes. Oh man – Eric was awesome, so it kind’f sucked that Gary had to ruin everything by screaming at the top of his lungs, “WHY ARE WE BEING ATTACKED?”
The A-1 barely jumped. Well – barely, ‘cause he’d shouted as loud as he could, and he hoped Stephanie wouldn’t be mad at him ‘cause he’d been on his bestest behaviour since he’d met her – if she gave him scars on his arm, he was yanking them off and framing them and worshipping them for the rest of his life – but he just couldn’t wait for them to talk about it later ‘cause he needed to know now!
“Something wrong, Gary?”
“NOSIR!” ... Wait. “I – I mean... sort of. Yes?”
Eric was not the tiniest bit upset. He even laughed about it, got Gary laughing too, and then he asked like he was a guardian angel, “What’s up?”
“Sir... Ma’am... Honoured, respected super-Agents I have to get autographs from so I can show my wife...” Didi was not gonna believe any of this! “I’m – uh... I didn’t actually know there was gonna be an attack. I sort’f just got called in ‘cause someone said Jason wanted me in here, but he’s been busy around downstairs and I’m just having the time of my life and I’m not really trained for anything hand-to-hand and I’d probably die.”
“‘Die’? But you can’t die!”
WHY? WAS GARY IMMORTAL NOW? DID THE MAGIC ERIC-CLOUD OF LOVE CURE ALL? THIS WAS THE BEST DAY EVER!
“Well – I – I’m gonna try not to, but what I’m really asking is – sir...” He took a quick breath in. “Is there a closet or someplace I can hide?”
More laughter, as pure as the air and as bright as the moon! He needed to record this or something. Where was Jason and those goggles?
“Don’t worry, Gar.” HE’D SAID ‘GAR’ LIKE IT WAS A NICKNAME THAT WAS HIS NEW NAME NOW! “Ol’ Alex ain’t gonna hurt ya.”
...
...
Wat.
“Uh... Sir?”
“Don’t worry ‘bout what Benoit said, Stephie – he just needs a hug. I’d give him one, but I’m pretty sure he’d punch me.”
“Sir? Sir, sir, sir, sir, sir, sir –”
“Yeah, Gary?”
“Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...” He could’ve stretched that for – like – twenty minutes, but he didn’t have time to waste right now! “So – when you said ‘Alex’, you meant – like – some guy who was just in the mood to break a place, not – like...” Super Ultra Agent-Murderer Like-It’s-Going-Out-of-Style-and-It-Would-Have-to-Once-All-the-Agents-Were-Dead Alex. The one he’d... maybe... accidentally sent Jason to... Completely by mistake! Was not his fault – at all! Not on purpose! ... Was he here for revenge? “Not – like... that Alex... right?”
Oh shit. Gary was gonna die.
“It’s A-OK, everybody. He’s not a problem.” Said the A-1 with humongous fists! “I’m a little more interested in where everyone else’ll be.”
Hiding! He’d be hiding!
“Wherever you need us,” he half-stammered.
That was what Jason would say. The dude had a thing for being dedicated to helping.
“I know someone’ll be on a plane to Elmira soon,” Eric chimed. “And Benny... ah – who knows where he’ll go? And as long as Madeline stays way the heck away from me...” He lit up like he’d just thought of something, then daintily spun around to look at Stephanie. “There is one thing I’m not too sure about.”
“What is it?”
Forget about the attack for... two seconds, then he’d go back to having a mini-meltdown. This could be his chance to help!
“The transfer, you goose,” Eric said, reaching out a hand and ruffling Gary’s hair. Then he went back to Stephanie. “Who’s gonna run it? ‘Cause Xander can’t. And unless Alex’s secretly been reading a Stasis Cell 101 book, we’ll probably have to steer them in the right direction if Benoit’s ever gonna get the chance he’s looking for.” He rolled his eyes. “See – now this isn’t right. I shouldn’t have to have this conversation with you. You’re almost done here, but since the lovely Madeline has to be babysat, Benny’s not around to talk this over with. And – anyway, he doesn’t have what we’re looking for, which almost hits me as a little short-sighted unless he was plannin’ on running it himself.” Eric thought about it. “Can he?”
GARY COULD! HE COULD RUN THE TRANSFER! HE KNEW HOW!
“I can do it!”
Eric looked thrilled with his enthusiasm, and Gary knew he would because he was so totally ready to do this!
“Weren’t you the one passing out a second ago?” Gary got a poke on the nose and it was adorable! “Can’t have ya saying you’re gonna run off and hide when we need someone standing in the same room as Alex.”
“... Oh.”
“Hey,” Eric told him, “it’s not like I’m saying you can’t lend a hand. These guys just wanna be extra sure everything goes right – so that’s why I’m thinking we get Jason to hang back for a bit.” He held up his palms like he was trying to calm down Stephanie down before anything even happened. Yeah – as if! If that magic-cloud could get a bull to chill out, there was no way even Stephanie March could get freaked out. “It’d only be until Xander shows up and – don’t worry about Jason getting into trouble. Xander wants his body, Jason can give it back to him, and when the transfer underway and Benny doing his thing, there’ll be no one around to hurt him as he skedaddles his way back over to you. In Elmira. I get nervous thinking she’s gonna get away again so I’d truly feel better if the two of you were back at the national lab as soon as you can get out the door.”
National lab? In Elmira? Another transfer? Gary’s heart was gonna beat out of his chest!
“Why doesn’t she do the transfer here? I’ll do it for her! Can I? Can I please?”
“Tell ya what,” Eric said. “You nudge her into leaving with Gwen and beelining to proper facilities and I’ll let you stand around and watch it all happen. Sound good?” BETTER THAN ANYTHING HE COULD’VE EVER HOPED FOR! COULD HE TAKE PICTURES? WAS HE ALLOWED? “I don’t want the transfer here when everything’s about to get crazy. I don’t want to have to push around a new Gwen in her coma for however many months she’s out cold for. What a waste of effort!”
HE WAS SO READY FOR THIS.
“When can we go?” This was really happening this was really happening this was happening for real! “Now? Right now?”
As her words changed, so did his; before a sound escaped his lips, a seething wave rose up and out of him – but Eric, the one person who would have been the most interested in hearing Benoit erupt, stopped him from saying anything. The man gave it away when his eyes lit up. Benoit knew that look; he’d been plagued with it for weeks before he finally gave in and let the fool prance around his case. Behind his lenses, his eyes tore from March to the A-1. What she said... He would deal with it shortly. If Eric was up to something, and he always was, they had to be sure the ground on which they tread was stable.
‘Retire’. Well said, Miss Agent. That one word would haunt him for years.
“It doesn’t matter how it works,” he told her. His voice was low. Too low, because Eric had turned from hanging behind his latest friend and politely listening to her speak to readying himself for a fight. What should they say that was? Defending her? Hilarious. They were certainly getting along well. “The point is Alexander-the-guest has never used this technology before, save for enduring the transfer before his escape. If you’re so interested, ask your friend.”
He had meant the young one, Jason, the boy who insisted he knew how to operate the controls, but the giggly glob of cookie dust spoke instead.
“It aligns the nerves in one brain –”
“I don’t care.”
It shut him up. The fat man’s grin slid from his face when Benoit’s gaze was upon him. He went back to the mauling his new owner draped against his blubbery arm, of which he had yet offer a complaint over and frankly seemed honoured by.
“Don’t be mean, Benny,” Eric said. “The little guy was just trying to be helpful.”
Said ‘guy’ was as flattered by that as the clawing.
“As much as I appreciate the assistance, his aid is unnecessary.” He turned back to her. “And I appreciate your concern, as unnecessary as that is, too. My tactics are my own. I am under no obligation to explain them to you.”
“No one’s sayin’ you can’t do it,” Eric said. “We just like hearing it every now and then.”
They liked wasting his breath. He doubted any of them would follow along with why he worked the way he worked, simple though it was, and he lost all hope in March understanding if what she said had been what she truly believed. His candidacy for transfer was a strong reason for his assignment to this case, but the driving force was his success in the captures he had made before the Agents were officially established. He earned those victories because he had learned to understand what he faced before running into the fray. He took extra care when it came to Alexander, and those who instead insisted on rushing their work were dead.
Every.
Last.
One.
It made no sense for Jean to have fallen. He had every warning and example he needed for what awaited impatience and Benoit had explicitly heard him say he wasn’t so desperate for glory that he’d forget everything to run at the chance to take Alexander down, and he’d proven it a dozen times by stopping to think about what it meant to charge at someone who could kill him with a look, particularly after that very person had endlessly bragged about surpassing every defence the Agency had put up and could never stop gloating that he was the only one who knew Alexander’s weakness but if the son of a bitch had just co-operated and shared the knowledge before he botched his fucking transfer then Benoit would have countered it years ago and Jean would never have died. For starters.
“Alexander will not pose a threat,” he said – begrudgingly, if he was honest. “Mind your own case. Once she arrives, you can go.”
Then she could fall into whatever trap Eric had in store for her. The A-1 would never show any interest in a person unless they served some use in furthering his agenda. The reward of going along with it could only be said to outweigh its punishment if one considered ‘living’ good enough pay. He could warn her – should have, maybe – but... ‘retire’.
“I HATE THIS ROOM.” Madeline was back on his arm, crushing it. “WE ARE LEAVING.”
“So soon?”
Eric hadn’t meant it. The walrus, on the other hand...
“You can’t go! You’ve gotta tell me what’s going on! Is there gonna –” At once, his eyes bulged and his voice hushed, as if he was suddenly afraid of the wrong person overhearing. ... Who? Only the five of them were here. He hated lower levels. They were too impressed by everything. “Is there gonna be an attack?”
Bravo.
“Yes,” Benoit said. “Here.”
“In here?! But – we’re in here! I’m not trained for this!”
“Ask Eric. He brought you, not me.” He gestured to the grip on his left arm. “I have to leave. Orders.”
His eyes landed back on March. Madeline’s grip tightened. Immediately, and in direct response, Eric loomed over them again. So that was it. The fight had changed. Their increasingly apparent feud had reached a new phase and they had divvied up those around them to start a war in teams. He didn’t know if it was better or worse they picked this way rather than lunge at each other’s throats, which Eric had fuelled by giving Benoit over against his will, but that outburst, whether Gwendolyn’s lead had come up with it alone or had it planted in her head, had counted as a point for Eric and Madeline wanted it back. He could feel her pushing him to fire his own retort. No. For all the patience he had, he was not about to spend it playing their stupid game. If this was Eric’s agenda, it was shallow, and he was not surprised because what part of the man wasn’t?
“Keep it clean, kids,” the A-1 said. Then he shrugged. “Or not. Whatever takes more time.”
“THIS WOULD BE EASY IF YOU GO AWAY.” Madeline stopped pushing to him to answer and started pulling him towards the hallway instead. “THE NEXT TIME YOU DIE, PATTEN, STAY DEAD.”
“Watch it, Bergmann.” A happy flash of teeth swept that up, but before the memory was washed away in his immortal and ungodly cheer, Eric scratched the side of his glasses and Benoit felt her flinch. And then her nails were nearly digging into his bone. “Why can’t we just play nice? We’re all friends here! We’re a big ol’ Agency family!”
Madeline reacted to that as if it was the greatest insult he had ever given her, but she used a decidedly different tone when she answered. It was familiar; not unlike what he had used when Eric had ordered he sign Jean’s body over.
“STAY AWAY FROM ME,” she snapped.
“Ah, ah, ah!” The man wiggled a finger. “‘Stay away from me, sir’.”
She scoffed and sneered and then yanked on his arm like she was trying to rip it off. She wanted to go, now, and Benoit only held it against her because he knew he would have to escape again.
He didn’t move. He didn’t move because although he was not a soul of any sharp emotion when he worked, he felt a knife in his throat. The immediate thought should have been that it was below him or that, if it wasn’t, he would handle it when he was no longer pressed to lead other matters. Now, it almost made him change his mind about whether or not he went along with them. They would never let up until he did, because without him and March doing their dirty work, the fault was on them for being unprofessional. He cared less about that than anything else.
Let it go. Or be civil.
Neither?
“For the record, Miss Agent, this ‘partnership’ began when your subordinate fucked up. Keep in mind I haven’t blamed anyone for this mess, but I work on the rule of an eye for an eye and my colleague is dead.”
“You’re gonna kill Jason?”
Eric sounded surprised.
“I would never harm another Agent unless they attacked first. I’m not you.” The man grinned. Benoit would have scowled at him if he could mustered the interest. “I take your words as wisdom and not a threat in blind ignorance of my ability to retaliate. I swear to you, I will show the utmost prudence in keeping Alexander contained, because what a shame it would be if he found your goggled friend a third time.” He shrugged. “But he’ll be fine, I’m sure. And you’ll be fine. It isn’t as if he’s Gwen. Right, Eric?”
“Hmm?”
“How disposable are lower ranks?”
“Very,” Eric told them. He said it like a fact rather than a preference. “Some more than others. And some less,” he threw in breezily, which certainly had nothing to do with Madeline’s snort of anger.
“Then I am assured no one would have any need to mourn the name of one who died,” Benoit concluded. “And I am assured they would never bring it up again, not on the off-chance someone was. Never again, Miss Agent.” His eyes were on the woman facing him. She had made her point. “Ever.” So had he.
“THEY AGREE.”
With that decided, Madeline hauled on his arm. This time, Benoit walked out. He would run from her later and return to that room when it was time to strike, but for now, he’d stay quiet. He was sick of everyone. For five fucking minutes, they had to shut up, because he’d go mad by the end of the day if they refused.
* * *
“Xander...?”
I’m trying to plan how I’m gonna make my grand entrance. Should I be screaming something? Should I kill everyone at once or kind of leave a few to spread my glorious name, then come back and finish ‘em off later?
... Seriously?
This is gonna be the boss fight! Think about it, he said. The giant’s dead, that woman’s gonna be distracted, if suit-boy’s still around then I’ll just break his neck and be done with it and if Rudy’s there... He couldn’t’ve been giddier if he was on crack. The crack of life, buddy. I’m excited for this. The French guy’s all alone and I’m fuckin’ gunning for that doucheturd.
And then he went back to eating his Skittles – what little of them he could taste since he’d wrapped the beef jerky around them.
Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and for the first time since he’d gotten into this car, it wasn’t because of the foot. Alright, so... what was the protocol here? Because he noticed it changed from person to person on top of every five minutes. With Gwen, Alex got screamed at, but with Peter the truth had come out in practically a heartbeat, and in the end Peter had been working with the Agents while Gwen was one of the few people he felt could trust. But Xander had made the ‘let Peter know!’ call because he’d been in the Agency and had freaked over telling Gwen ‘cause he was paranoid of those guys sending someone else after him... so neither situation gave him a clue of what to do now.
The longer he took to the answer, the faster Osono was going to draw her own conclusions. She had already, technically, but there was still time to maybe... go back to acting like he was normal.
Xander, seriously.
You said you wanted me to train you. If he could’ve, Xander would’ve shrugged. Thirty-five.
“How in hell is this supposed to ‘train’ me? You’re leaving me out to dry,” Alex said inside his throat. “Handle this. Or at least –”
Another mouthful of Skittles was jammed in his mouth and he choked on them.
Figure it out, Xander said. Thirty-six.
Alex’s foot had reached a point where it didn’t take a break between the spasms anymore. They were very small trembles – practically hidden behind the shaking of the car, which had gone down immensely thanks to her going easier along the road – and they weren’t so much painful as irritating because they weren’t in his foot but his calf. There were a few sharp twinges that still hurt, but as long as he kept everything under his ankle steady, he was doing okay. Minus the upped intensity each minute.
He needed to get a better poker face.
“I –”
Much better. Like – actually get one. Please.
Thanks.
“It’s... not something I have an answer for exactly.” Which was the truth, considering he didn’t. The truth didn’t count if he wasn’t supposed to hand it out. Was he? “Just... Let’s stick with ‘no’. To everything – just... Yeah. I mean – ‘no’.” Crap. “Moving on...” To what? “Uh... Rudy. I mean –” Shit! “Not like that – it’s just...” Xander was enjoying himself immensely. “Okay, it didn’t look like he had anything specifically to fight you. He had that gun or whatever and that was weird, and that Agent – in the trunk – had a cat-suit and it could’ve been flame resistant. So... basically, is there anything you know about the Agency making weapons guaranteed to knock out your fire? ‘Cause that’s what we’re going to have to clear out first, before anything.”
If everything went as they expected it to and he was out for however long it took this transfer to finish, he had to be sure they weren’t leaving her fight off some sort of water god.
Too bad we don’t have those goggles, Xander said. They probably don’t have the access to it, but I could’ve taken a shot at shutting down any hoses lying around. And sprinklers.
“Is there any other way to do it?”
... Maybe?
Alex rolled his eyes.
“Well, you were the guy who couldn’t work a hotel phone.” But could, allegedly, fly a jet. And a train and a submarine and a tank. Allegedly. Not allegedly. “Maybe we can find someone in there...”
He might not’ve decided to answer directly, but he did let his voice rise just a tad higher than before. He’d gone right back into all-out whispering once Osono guessed – he was terrible at this – but even if he wasn’t going to go back to blatantly hiding behind an even more blatant lie – Xander was pretty damn good at it, considering it’d made sense for so long – he might as well stop holding out on her. She knew he was talking to someone, anyway. He just hoped she didn’t start asking for a name like Gwen had.
Thirty-eight. Who’s going in first?
“Huh?”
Tactics, man. ‘Tactics’? If you’re working with more than one person, you need to have some kind of plan.
“You didn’t ask for one at Elmira,” he muttered.
I didn’t really expect Gwen to have to fight. Here, I know Sparky’s goin’ in guns blazing and I’d prefer to know where I’m not supposed to stand. So who’s going in first?
“Why don’t you tell us? That’s your job.”
No, I don’t really work like that – that’s not exactly... He mind-shrugged again. I’m a do-it-myself-‘cause-everyone-else-is-stupid kind of guy. I don’t do ‘teams’. ‘Pairs’. Whatever the hell this is.
He was going to have to if this had any shot at working.
“Osono, who’s going in first? Because... I want to know where I should be.”
Thirty-nine.
Xander swooping in to talk cut off Alex’s short cry of pain.
“If they’re expecting me, they’re set up for me, so you’ll almost definitely catch ‘em off-guard right away, but if Rudy’s there, and he knows I’m hurt and he’ll probably guess you tagged along for the war, then it’s only a little less likely for them to’ve rigged a trap up for you. They’ll be lying in wait if they’re warned.” That was why Alex wanted to know if there was anything in store for her, but it sounded liked Xander just assumed they did. “If I go in, I can get them focused on me, giving you that tiny opening to smash ‘em in the face ‘cause they – for sure – won’t have time to switch over to anti-burn. It’s just a matter of whether or not I’m rested enough to get out of the way when they shoot.”
“Will you be?”
If you’d take the damn foot, I would.
Like that was happening.
Hmm...
“It’s not happening,” Alex snapped. “Stop thinking about it.”
It’s good practise for when you do have to do it.
“Easing me in’s going perfectly okay,” he said. “Don’t screw me over now.”
‘Screw you over’? Easing in’s for pussies, Xander told him. I’m making you weak. Throwing you in is the pain eater way – trust me.
“I don’t! Not at all! Not in the slightest,” Alex said.
Then I can’t promise anything. Then he added, Bitch.
Now Alex had double the dose of fun of dealing with what he was already going through and the new fear of Xander suddenly changing his mind and slamming the full of force of it into him. More than anything, he was going to enjoy not having to put up with this when the transfer-back-thing was over.
You’ll miss it when it’s gone, Xander hummed.
His foot wouldn’t. It was counting down to when they arrived. Four more hours if they kept going like this, but maybe three if they sped a little. He was torn between wanting to stay put and asking her to hurry. They had Gwen to find, he knew that perfectly well, but considering what they were going to be up against – if anything, because there hadn’t been a lot in their way at Elmira – he wasn’t fully in the mood to rush.
* * *
‘Whale’ hit him as very, very odd. Jason needed a moment to realize Quin was talking about his target. The shirt she’d been wearing barely fit her! He could hardly imagine what Eric would be called if Gwen was supposed to be a ‘whale’, especially if Quin didn’t recognize who he was talking to. Given how the man had switched bodies and he was quick to assume anyone he didn’t recognize was a lackey, this was going to be a very explosive and ultimately bloody introduction.
“First of all, keep your colourful comments to yourself. I’m giving you a warning because you won’t get one from my lead. Second, I don’t know what kind of warped reality you’re playing in, Quin, but that ‘condition’, those ‘few slaps’ – which, by the way, I remember Eric telling you exactly not to do, around the same time your tiny ass was cut in half – are almost exactly what my lead is going to pick up on. You should be grateful she’s not here to snap your neck this second. Congratulations, you have some time to come up with some crazy excuse for why you shouldn’t have a...” What was his lead’s thing? Oh yeah. “... a hand shoved through your throat. Honestly, I’m expecting it to happen even if you did bring her here, and I’m more than a little surprised Eric didn’t crush you already.” He’d said he was going to. It was going to be fun watching the two of them talk. “Finally, noble superior, you will watch your fucking mouth when you talk about Agency personnel. There’s no witnesses here, asshole, and I can break you like a twig.”
And that was everything he would have said if Quin hadn’t been a higher rank.
Dick.
“I apologize,” Jason said, trying to avoid talking through clenched teeth, “for any hardships you endured at the hand of my target. My condolences for the loss of your assistant, and I can assure you Agent March would be here if she wasn’t with...” Wait – where was she? She’d rushed upstairs, but where to? Had Eric found her? Gary? Benoit? ... Crazy German? “If she wasn’t preoccupied.”
What Quin had said about her was stupid. It was stupid because Quin was stupid. He was childish and petty and who the fuck did he think he was saying anything like that? Fantasy-Jason was right: there were no witnesses here. Would ever take advantage of it? No. He wasn’t that sort of person. But he wanted to. In his darkest corner, the urge was there, and he was keeping the shrimp’s words in a very reachable thread of memories. His hands, behind his back, tightened into fists.
“She’s preoccupied with talking to an A-1.” Just because he wasn’t going to snap Quin’s neck over it didn’t mean Jason wasn’t fighting back. He’d felt Eric’s voice when those two had been talking over the phone, and if knocking out the other side of this one’s mouth was off the table, he’d make his battle subtle. Jason worked well with subtle. It was one of his best talents. “The issues you faced on the way here were due to a lack of information. As such, I’m obligated to brief you on our current status in securing Stewart to prevent any further challenges in our work.” He sounded very professional. All of his practise was paying off. “We recently were joined by Eric Patten, who’s taken an interest in our work. He’s here now, actually. Upstairs. You’ll most likely see him when you find my lead. I’m sure he’ll be happy to reward you for your services on top of whatever she offers you. Have you met Eric before? He’s very influential. Whatever favour you feel you’re owed, he’ll undoubtedly be able to provide.”
Like ‘not being murdered for killing five of his team’. Was that specific enough, Quin?
“I ask that you be brief in your report to Agent March,” he went on. “She’s been in an aggressive mood lately and too many details might encourage... an unstable reaction.”
Jason couldn’t stop him from telling her, could he? The extent of his control over the situation didn’t go that far, but the very least he could do – had to do – was make sure she wasn’t hurt by the news. Was it better or worse for her to be told than to see the damage? Worse, he decided. At least if she saw, she’d feel better knowing she was now there to protect her future self.
That transfer was really going to happen. Soon, and he had yet to make up his mind about whether he should be... something.
“If you are going to tell her, you should be thorough. Be sure to mention your injuries, but I’d advise against withholding any details concerning Stewart’s physical state.” He nodded, as if this was a very wise choice. “The tranquilizers were a good idea, Agent Quin. Be sure to mention those. A lot.”
Yeah. Stephanie would love that.
“I’ll follow you to wherever you want to go. Lead the way. Sir.”
This guy was going to die. Jason would try to be respectful at the funeral.
* * *
The minute Madeline Bergmann was out of sight and the sound of the heels of her shoes had faded, something magical happened. Gary felt his muggy, mortal, un-miracle-y breath get taken and, instead, like he was riding a unicorn, rainbows and sugar wrapped him up and filled his beard with the sweet scent of... life. A shadow he hadn’t even noticed just up and disappeared, and it was all because that glorious wizard of glee had waved a sparkle wand and sent that thing packing. This was amazing – he had no idea he would ever be in a room with Stephanie March floating on his arm and a ginormous flashlight of everything beautiful in the world shining like the golden shun from the top of his head to the whole twenty million feet to his toes. Oh man – Eric was awesome, so it kind’f sucked that Gary had to ruin everything by screaming at the top of his lungs, “WHY ARE WE BEING ATTACKED?”
The A-1 barely jumped. Well – barely, ‘cause he’d shouted as loud as he could, and he hoped Stephanie wouldn’t be mad at him ‘cause he’d been on his bestest behaviour since he’d met her – if she gave him scars on his arm, he was yanking them off and framing them and worshipping them for the rest of his life – but he just couldn’t wait for them to talk about it later ‘cause he needed to know now!
“Something wrong, Gary?”
“NOSIR!” ... Wait. “I – I mean... sort of. Yes?”
Eric was not the tiniest bit upset. He even laughed about it, got Gary laughing too, and then he asked like he was a guardian angel, “What’s up?”
“Sir... Ma’am... Honoured, respected super-Agents I have to get autographs from so I can show my wife...” Didi was not gonna believe any of this! “I’m – uh... I didn’t actually know there was gonna be an attack. I sort’f just got called in ‘cause someone said Jason wanted me in here, but he’s been busy around downstairs and I’m just having the time of my life and I’m not really trained for anything hand-to-hand and I’d probably die.”
“‘Die’? But you can’t die!”
WHY? WAS GARY IMMORTAL NOW? DID THE MAGIC ERIC-CLOUD OF LOVE CURE ALL? THIS WAS THE BEST DAY EVER!
“Well – I – I’m gonna try not to, but what I’m really asking is – sir...” He took a quick breath in. “Is there a closet or someplace I can hide?”
More laughter, as pure as the air and as bright as the moon! He needed to record this or something. Where was Jason and those goggles?
“Don’t worry, Gar.” HE’D SAID ‘GAR’ LIKE IT WAS A NICKNAME THAT WAS HIS NEW NAME NOW! “Ol’ Alex ain’t gonna hurt ya.”
...
...
Wat.
“Uh... Sir?”
“Don’t worry ‘bout what Benoit said, Stephie – he just needs a hug. I’d give him one, but I’m pretty sure he’d punch me.”
“Sir? Sir, sir, sir, sir, sir, sir –”
“Yeah, Gary?”
“Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...” He could’ve stretched that for – like – twenty minutes, but he didn’t have time to waste right now! “So – when you said ‘Alex’, you meant – like – some guy who was just in the mood to break a place, not – like...” Super Ultra Agent-Murderer Like-It’s-Going-Out-of-Style-and-It-Would-Have-to-Once-All-the-Agents-Were-Dead Alex. The one he’d... maybe... accidentally sent Jason to... Completely by mistake! Was not his fault – at all! Not on purpose! ... Was he here for revenge? “Not – like... that Alex... right?”
Oh shit. Gary was gonna die.
“It’s A-OK, everybody. He’s not a problem.” Said the A-1 with humongous fists! “I’m a little more interested in where everyone else’ll be.”
Hiding! He’d be hiding!
“Wherever you need us,” he half-stammered.
That was what Jason would say. The dude had a thing for being dedicated to helping.
“I know someone’ll be on a plane to Elmira soon,” Eric chimed. “And Benny... ah – who knows where he’ll go? And as long as Madeline stays way the heck away from me...” He lit up like he’d just thought of something, then daintily spun around to look at Stephanie. “There is one thing I’m not too sure about.”
“What is it?”
Forget about the attack for... two seconds, then he’d go back to having a mini-meltdown. This could be his chance to help!
“The transfer, you goose,” Eric said, reaching out a hand and ruffling Gary’s hair. Then he went back to Stephanie. “Who’s gonna run it? ‘Cause Xander can’t. And unless Alex’s secretly been reading a Stasis Cell 101 book, we’ll probably have to steer them in the right direction if Benoit’s ever gonna get the chance he’s looking for.” He rolled his eyes. “See – now this isn’t right. I shouldn’t have to have this conversation with you. You’re almost done here, but since the lovely Madeline has to be babysat, Benny’s not around to talk this over with. And – anyway, he doesn’t have what we’re looking for, which almost hits me as a little short-sighted unless he was plannin’ on running it himself.” Eric thought about it. “Can he?”
GARY COULD! HE COULD RUN THE TRANSFER! HE KNEW HOW!
“I can do it!”
Eric looked thrilled with his enthusiasm, and Gary knew he would because he was so totally ready to do this!
“Weren’t you the one passing out a second ago?” Gary got a poke on the nose and it was adorable! “Can’t have ya saying you’re gonna run off and hide when we need someone standing in the same room as Alex.”
“... Oh.”
“Hey,” Eric told him, “it’s not like I’m saying you can’t lend a hand. These guys just wanna be extra sure everything goes right – so that’s why I’m thinking we get Jason to hang back for a bit.” He held up his palms like he was trying to calm down Stephanie down before anything even happened. Yeah – as if! If that magic-cloud could get a bull to chill out, there was no way even Stephanie March could get freaked out. “It’d only be until Xander shows up and – don’t worry about Jason getting into trouble. Xander wants his body, Jason can give it back to him, and when the transfer underway and Benny doing his thing, there’ll be no one around to hurt him as he skedaddles his way back over to you. In Elmira. I get nervous thinking she’s gonna get away again so I’d truly feel better if the two of you were back at the national lab as soon as you can get out the door.”
National lab? In Elmira? Another transfer? Gary’s heart was gonna beat out of his chest!
“Why doesn’t she do the transfer here? I’ll do it for her! Can I? Can I please?”
“Tell ya what,” Eric said. “You nudge her into leaving with Gwen and beelining to proper facilities and I’ll let you stand around and watch it all happen. Sound good?” BETTER THAN ANYTHING HE COULD’VE EVER HOPED FOR! COULD HE TAKE PICTURES? WAS HE ALLOWED? “I don’t want the transfer here when everything’s about to get crazy. I don’t want to have to push around a new Gwen in her coma for however many months she’s out cold for. What a waste of effort!”
HE WAS SO READY FOR THIS.
“When can we go?” This was really happening this was really happening this was happening for real! “Now? Right now?”
Last edited by Tartra on Sun Oct 09, 2011 11:50 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 Jan 19, 2011 1:41 am
More murmuring to himself. It seemed to be the consistent response to anything she said, so Osono had to wait while "they" talked it over, concentrating on driving for the time being and hoping she'd eventually get some sort of realistic admission from him. When he was finally addressing her, he started alright, then blasted it all away by telling her "no". Just...no? What the f--? She had to admit that although he lied about having powers - which, despite his denial, it really only confirmed and solidified it as he stumbled to change the subject - she'd been feeling more amused about the whole thing because of how ridiculous it all seemed now. How silly and foolish she'd been, which she was perfectly willing to take responsibility for.
His refusal to give her anything concrete or to even apologize for it did make her feel angry, but she shoved it aside when he started talking about something else. Fine. She wouldn't confront him now. She basically knew what was up anyways and they had more important things to deal with than reiterating the whole "Alex is an asshole" thing. Knowing what she did about him and his personality, it would no doubt come up again later.
The new concerns he brought up got her to thinking critically again, feeling pumped and yet a little hesitant about the upcoming battle. "Well...I haven't really seen anything from these guys that's been an active or successful repellent. I mean, they don't show up in full body sci-fi suits or anything, ya know? Every once and a while I'll face a few guys who are dressed really slick and just won't light up as easy as I want...but I've told you before about the flammability of skin. I'm not kidding. And there's always something exposed to give me that opening because they always attack me in public and gotta look normal, I guess."
She shrugged, trying to remember if she'd ever seen anything strange used by these people over the years, but other than what she considered typical guns, nothing really came to mind or stood out. And Ozzie had no idea about the gun he kept referring to Rudy having. If she was more willing to believe the idiot wasn't capable of violence, she would have called Alex a liar about that too.
"As far as 'where should you stand'? I don't really care. I'm not gonna burn ya, if that's what you're worried about. I've never done anything like this...especially not on a team or anything like that, but I'm pretty good as far as controlling where it goes and what it does. Besides, I'm not really looking to bring the flames out until you're...passed out again or whatever you're gonna be. I figure that'll be about the mid-point of everything and I should have enough energy to just burn a freaking hole through everything that moves after that."
That's about the time that she realized she hadn't really mentioned to him about that other weakness that her powers had. It was another one of those things that she was reluctant to give Alex, merely because he could be a jerk and well..if thing in his head that he kept on trying to talk to was what she thought it was... How safe would it be to tell him everything? Then again, if he really meant her no harm, then keeping it from him would only hurt them if she ended up fizzling out in the middle of everything and leaving him stranded.
"I mean, it's not a big deal... I can keep it up for a long time and there's plenty I can do just using the air as fuel. What happened back at that office building is a really bad example of how well I operate, one, because you freaking pissed me off and I lost my cool and two, because I wasn't allowed to kill ole whatshername. But it's not how I usually do things. I've been surviving for years by not relying entirely on my gift except as a distraction, mass kill or escape plan." Not really true. It was about half-and-half whether she'd whip the fire out in non-defensive situations in the first place and whether she'd go all the way to burning her enemies when they finally showed up. "It does have a bit of an energy limit, but it's a wide edge with lots of room to move about in. Now...about Rudy..."
It was still a bit awkward to talk about him like this, to think of him as an Agent, but it was definitely getting easier. And Alex was certainly helping. That did not mean that she liked it. "I think you're giving him way too much credit while also forgetting the fact that there's no reason for him to suspect me of following you there. But, worse case scenario, we'll assume that he knows. If he's in charge to any degree for preparing for me...I still don't think we'll have much to worry about. Do you want to know what his strategy is and has always been - at least as far as I've been able to figure out?" She glanced at Alex, giving him a level look. "You remember how he popped up out of nowhere and followed me around and then later, those guys showed up and charged us? Yeah. That's basically been on repeat for the last 6 years of my life. Not the capturing Gwen thing though...that was new. And don't--!"
She glared at him warningly. "Don't tell me how obvious it is that he's always been with them, alright? I know how stupid it looks but... You don't know what it was like and you don't know how...how he is. Sometimes, he'd show up and hang around for a while before shit started happening and it was like old times, back when we first met and I had a life and a job. And there's never been more than about a month in between times when he shows up, usually coming out of nowhere a few weeks after the last time I saw him."
Alright, rehashing this wasn't helping and it certainly wasn't pertinent to the planning in this situation. "The point is, the dumbass hasn't changed tactics for 6 years. Which, you can kind of get where I'm coming from as far as thinking these Agent-people or whatever are halfwits - it's all I've ever encountered from them. So, assuming he knows I'm coming and has the chance to cook up something in preparation... I'm honestly more worried about whatever the people who're expecting you have in store. But from the fact that you're falling apart and still able to kick ass, I don't know whether to take that as a point for or against them being idiots too. I mean, our trunk buddy is certainly playing with a full deck--didya see the look she gave me when I told you I wanted to cook her as punishment? Ha!"
Osono took a pause to belt out a raspy giggle, shaking her head in amused disbelief. "Anybody who mistakes me for someone in any kind of authority position has either got some perception issues to work out OR the whole organization is really as fucked up as I'm thinking it is. I mean, if they've got people like ME running the place..."
She shook her head and was once again fixated on the road. "Who goes in first. Since they're expecting you, I say we give 'em what we know for a fact they're already lookin' for and then I'll be at your back and totally pull the rug from underneath 'em. Sound like a plan?"
When the lackey hesitated before stating Stephanie's current location, Rudy instantly zeroed in on it, his eyebrows coming down in a considering look - especially when he brought up the A-1.
"I'll bet she is," Rudy murmured in a voice rife with implications and a matching smirk. So, it looked like his old training camp buddy was still at it, working her way up the Agency ladder the old-fashioned way. Knowing what he knew about her, it didn't surprise him in the least. Typical Agency woman.
There was the hint of worry passing over him like a cloud to hear that she'd focused her attentions on the A-1, Mr. Patten. The guy who'd threatened and demoted him and made Rudy almost wet himself through the phone lines - the jerk. Obviously, she was busy pursuing her own goals and planning ahead, aiming high, etc. But with Patten wrapped around her finger, it was very possible that Rudy'd still be in hot water with the both of them, especially if Patten felt the need to protect her - and from Rudy's experience, women like Stephanie were always dominant, no matter whether they let you ride on top or not. It took a special skill set to turn the tables on them without them realizing how much control they'd lost. Not having really met the A-1 officially yet, he wanted to assume Eric had that particular strength of character - he certainly seemed like the "in-control" type - but still, he could feel that axe hovering over his head again...just a little bit.
On the plus side, if Rudy played his cards right, the little bit of info he had on Steph would work to snare both her AND the A-1 and get him what he wanted in the end. Nobody wanted their own plans disrupted or their closets opened wide for public review - and this Patten guy would no doubt suffer some sort of consequences for an "unprofessional" relationship. A-1's couldn't be exempt from everything since they had a standard to uphold...right? So, they'd likely agree to his very simple demands just to get rid of him. This predictability of Agency personnel had gotten him where he was today and although he'd never gone up against an A-1 before, if the guy was shagging Stephanie - and this suit-dude had definitely just let it slip that he was - then he'd be just as humanly fallible as the rest. Piece. Of. Cake.
And these thoughts only continued to grow and blossom the more the other guy kept talking, stars glowing in Rudy's eyes to hear words like "reward" and "influential" and his own words repeated back to him "owed", "favour" and "provide". Why, yes, ALL of that, please and thank you. They even sounded better coming from suit-guy's mouth as if they were hiding even greater promises than Rudy himself had implied. Even though this guy had been a bit of a goody-two-shoes smart-mouth to begin with, Rudy was definitely growing more and more fond of him by the minute. Not enough to be friends or anything but he'd learned his lesson quicker than most and although not exactly the perfect picture of humble, he'd at least changed his tone to being more cooperative and respectful. Not to mention the dude was a fountain of information and he didn't even seem to realize how much ammo he was giving Rudy to play with. Heh, sucka.
When he mentioned that Stephanie was in an "aggressive mood lately" Rudy snorted loudly and cocked an amused eyebrow. "Are we talkin' about the same chick, here? Blonde woman? Works for the Agency? Likes torture and eats men for breakfast? You think she's cranky today, then you just haven't been around the bitch long enough. It's pretty much a constant with her."
Although Rudy was really beginning to doubt how closely this guy knew his own boss, he was definitely liking the sound of "unstable reaction." Not to say that Rudy had a death wish or anything but...he remembered the creative imagination Stephanie put to work when she got violent. And that'd been exactly what he'd had in mind when he'd let his fist pound into Gwen Stewart's face the few times it had. The look Stephanie would give him and what she'd possibly DO to him in her anger... Oh yeeaah... It'd make everything he'd suffered through at the hands of possessed truckers and assistants, worthwhile. Suit-dude probably hadn't gotten a chance to enjoy his Lead's fists of rage, but Rudy most certainly would!
The blackmail thing was the real ticket to getting what he needed, despite the pissing and moaning Rudy'd done over his condition and what he'd gone through and whatever else he'd mentioned to this guy about how important dropping Gwen off was - it was a whole other separate thing. Even though he'd been forgiven by Mr. Patten, there was still the demotion to deal with. And Noel had outgrown her usefulness when she'd kept important information from him and gone over his head with the whole "specialized Agents" thing - which he was almost certain now that it'd been a trap to snare him in this kind of trouble and knock him down a few pegs. He had been getting a little...comfortable with jerking her around lately. Heh.
Picking up Gwen had given him the opportunity to redeem his actions back at the restaurant - namely keeping Patten from killing him for losing his men - but the blackmail of past and present deeds would secure him a position back where he'd been, independent of Noel and her manipulative lies. And when the time was right, he had enough on her to damage her career as well. Revenge margaritas for everybody!
"Hey, and thanks for the tips, but I already know what I need to tell her," he said with another bruised smile, as if the man were toeing that line of propriety again. But, Rudy was willing to forgive the guy for speaking out of turn. Afterall. He was someone new to talk to!
Making his way to the stairs - that's where he'd said Stephanie and Patten were, right? - Rudy kept speaking over his shoulder at the goggle guy while talking again in his rapid, excited tone. "So, are you one of those losers who didn't 'get' the ending of Lost? Do you need me to explain the season finale to you? You remember the whole 'alternate timeline' thing right?"
It wasn't an actual question and regardless of what the other man said, he was going to give him his long-practiced rant about it. Other than briefly slipping on the bloody steps - and doing the splits sideways, before he achingly righted himself - Rudy's mouth was speeding off, a fountain of useless knowledge with barely a breath in between sentences.
Then Master was there, delightfully soothing and she couldn't help getting the feeling that despite her willingness to get petty and even dirty about things, he had her back. It might have been the fact that Master and Benoit had been at odds since he'd first shown up, but she was comforted by the assumption that she had his support.
Her case had been EASY before Benoit had stepped into the picture. Now everything was becoming so complex - extra long time spent with a sexually appealing partner, drugs being needed to deal with all the stress, an elaborate trap set up just to capture two people, an A-1 coming along for the ride, etc. And now if/when Gwen arrived, Stephanie would need to hop over a few cities to wait and pray that the fool her target had been traveling with didn't come looking for her and try to take her back. She couldn't help but feel justified, now that Gwen was practically dead - just waiting for the confirmation, Oh God... please let him arrive safely with her... - in being angry that his original plan, the one that involved Alexander, was falling into perfect symmetry, while she was losing everything.
'No one’s sayin’ you can’t do it'. Uh, no, actually, that was exactly what she was saying. On the slim chance that Gwen was still on her way here, alive and perfectly safe, Benoit could not hide from the fact that he had yet to lay hands on his target in any fashion. How long had Alexander been upstairs at the apartment before he'd come rushing back down to ruin her life? Not long enough, Benoit.
Stephanie did not excuse him for "the guest" being an ex-Agent, nor did she excuse him for "living" where others had fallen - she and Jason had both lived through it. If it were really all that great a feat, then he had to weigh it against the fact that his target was a moron and should have been caught ages ago for making simple mistakes like "allowing dangerous people to live". She didn't even feel sorry that Jean had died - Master looked so much better in his skin and it felt like they hadn't really lost the French flunky with him around.
Benoit had failed. Jason had failed. Jean had failed. She had failed. She was surrounded by incompetence, stuck in the muddy hole with these pigs, unable to climb out and clean herself off. And it was driving her crazy thinking that this pompous ass probably had it all 'figured out' and would end up letting the moron slip past him yet again or worse, somehow pointing both Alexanders straight at Elmira where she would be.
And although he kept himself somewhat civil, he wasn't really saying anything to change her new outlook on the whole situation - nope, it was almost a certainty. If Gwen wasn't running free or dead, then she would be before the plan had reached fruition. Before Stephanie got what she really wanted - what she needed. And it would all be thanks to this jackass and his inability to see past his own nose!
Stephanie faded out during the drama between Master and the A-2, not really caring that the two didn't like each other or the reasons why. She respected and was fond of them both and wouldn't choose sides. The way they acted like bickering children in front of lower levels was one of those things she was perfectly willing to turn and look the other way from. Idly, she kept scratching at the Puppy, feeling calmed by the plushy sponginess in his skin to her sharpened nails and let the explosive voices wash over her like a soundtrack to her mutilation.
When Benoit was addressing her again, she visibly bristled at his implied threat against Jason - putting Alexander into the equation only made it sound like the guy was a missile that could be pointed in a specific direction - and she glared hatefully at him as he turned before she could respond. Even so, she had no idea what she would have said. Master was still here and despite her earlier breezy considerations about the whole "Jason situation", she was not going to openly admit anything by defending her partner or calling Benoit to task for his words. Especially not when Benoit himself hammered home how little the A-6 Agent was supposed to mean to her in comparison to her case.
Fine. She wasn't going to talk about Jean anymore. Big deal. If he'd just do everything he was suppose to and do it right, she'd never have to see his snobby face again after this. And Jason wouldn't be threatened either. Thinking of Jason made her feel sad all over again, watching the door eagerly, tempted to leave and go look for him. She needed him here with her. She couldn't take all these stupid snobs and overly expectant bigwigs surrounding her all the time. She needed him here to hold her and erase the horrible things Benoit had said and the visuals that accompanied his statements.
There was a slight tremor running through her when the Pup was suddenly exploding with sound and she turned back to stare at him as if she intended to choke the life out of him. Madeline could get away with screaming because she was an A-2, but there was no excuse for the Puppy to shout in her ear--! Oh. He was upset about the coming battle. That made sense. He was someone that Stephanie fully expected to die when Alexander showed up. And she was as saddened by the fact as she would have been if he were an actual dog. Some lower levels were less important than others.
In response, Master was charming and full of good humor as always, warming Stephanie in an odd way while still making her feel on edge and alert in his presence. She wasn't as affected as Gary was by it, but when Master laughed, a certain look came over her face, like that of absolute worship or as if she were tempted to sing that chorus of joy herself. And amidst his ever admirable attempts to disperse the Puppy's fears, he turned to her and told her "not to worry", his voice coming like that of a friendly father-figure to her ears, full of understanding and good will. She almost swooned but nodded instead, forgetting Benoit and his nastiness all because the Master told her to.
And then he had to throw glitter and fireflies into the air and bring a blush to her face with that "Elmira" comment. Oh! Why, yes... she was going to be flying to Elmira VERY soon. Everything was going to be alright. Master said so.
She blinked hazily, her attention fixated on the large man as he addressed her with another concern, following him blindly along in this half-brainstorming conversation - she honestly didn't want to think that the Master didn't have everything all figured out like the omnipotent God he appeared to be, but she was just as eager as the Puppy to help him, to offer her assistance, to be needed by him and validated by his resulting glory. There was something almost apologetic and modest when he said this conversation wasn't meant for her but she instantly forgave him at the mere implication. And his reasoning definitely had her furrowing her brow trying to think but also secretly waiting for the Master to lead her to the answer he wanted, which...he eventually did.
Stephanie had been nodding her head tightly to everything he'd been saying up to this point, practically numbed by her all-encompassing need to please and follow him. But then the small, adoring smile and light in her green eyes vanished like a building crumbling. What...? Jason? Jason!?!?!? Her whole body tensed as she gave him a very penetrating look, filling her lungs with a VERY deep breath through her nose as if she were getting ready to scream. When his hands came up defensively, the mere gesture commanding her body to calm down, whatever unearthly noise that had been building inside her halted itself from escaping.
So, she didn't scream or shout or cry. She wanted to. She adored the Master to such an overwhelming degree that she felt like they were part of the same person when she was around him, rather than a separate entity with her own thoughts and feelings. But the urge to let out a roar of rage, slice his thickly muscled throat with her fingernails and tell him to go fuck himself was VERY real and very strong.
Once again, however, Master's voice took on that particular timbre... On the outside, it could feel like he was running this new plan by her first for her approval, but deeper down, he'd already made the decision and she felt powerless to say anything contrary to his will. And all the while, as much as she wanted to break down and cry and beg him not to do this to her - after what Benoit had SAID!!! - he was filled with overflowing sympathy and confidence that rushed over her like cooling water.
It was...a good plan. To be truthful. And Master was right. Alexander would not harm someone who could give him what he wanted...would he? Master said he wouldn't and she felt his promise in those words - especially the phrase "skeddadles back over to you", so simple and lighthearted. And then to top it all off, he was once again calming the inner panic that Rudy would show up dragging a corpse on a leash, by talking about Gwen in the present tense. Making her real with the simple reverberation of his voice, showing yet more support for Stephanie and what she was trying to do, in not so many words telling her that he knew she could do it. And that more than anything else he'd said - logically reasoned, yes, it all made sense not to do the transfer HERE; they'd been over all of this already! Keep up, Pup! - made her calm down and release that large intake of breath she'd pulled in when he'd first said Jason's name, in a long, uneven sigh.
"Okay," she said with a firm nod, blinking slowly at Master again. Trusting him, again. And turning to the excited Pup, feeling indirectly caged in by his exuberance because of Master's orders to him, she smiled wanly and nodded at him as well. "Soon. We can leave as soon as--"
"Then I was like, 'Don't Mess with the combo master??," Rudy's voice could be heard from the hallway rambling on in full-tilt 'story-mode'. "Your 'combo' counters are horrible. Of course an opponent can always respond, the idea is how difficult is it for an opponent to respond. I'll Terror, Dark Banishing, Oblivion Ring, Path to Exile, Unsummon your Fusion Elemental.. can you do that to Uril, the Miststalker? Of course not. And it is with that reasoning that I am saying Uril is a better card in general compared to Fusion Elemental.'"
The familiar rapidly moving voice was getting louder the closer he got and Stephanie slowly turned with widening eyes towards the doorway, Rudy seemingly drawn there by the red glow cascading into the dimly lit hall.
"I totally said that to him too," his haughty voice went on. "The little snot was so pissed and kept trying to argue with me about it, but he didn't have a leg to stand on. Do you know what it's like to get an arrogant 12 year old brat to run crying to their mom during a Tournament, Jason?" During their trek upstairs, he'd gotten the goggle-dude to give him his name. "It's freaking hilarious, especially when you've totally owned them in the matches. All that practice - wah, wah wah! Big man knows more about Magic cards than me! Pfffft!"
A heavy tempo had gathered in Stephanie's lungs as she stood watching that very familiar, short man approach the room, walking breezily along but looking like hell had taken a shit on him. Her immediate concern was not for him or his condition but for what his arrival promised and her eyes were frantically searching beside him on either side for Gwen. Nothing. Her eyes widened and zipped to Jason who was shadowing him, but there was no one in his hands either! Her eyes were back on Rudy as he stopped and entered the room, her gaze clinging to every small wound and blood stain on his person and trying to make some sort of sense of it all in relation to the fact that GWEN WAS NOT WITH HIM!!!!!!
Quin's rant fell silent as they came abreast of the doorway and he stepped towards it, eyes sweeping over the people present before focusing on the stasis tanks behind them. "Oh, man, I totally read this in issue #305 of Tremor Tower. And," he paused for a 10 second beat to let his eyes travel over each tank and their contents individually before seemingly coming to a crucial conclusion. "None of these clones look alike. You need to fire your genetic engineer." He nodded sagely and then made a lazy "finger gun" in Master's general direction. "You're welcome," as if he'd just given them some really important advice.
Stephanie would have rolled her eyes if she weren't standing rooted in place, her body trembling ever so slightly - how could he make jokes right now??? Did he KNOW why he was here??? The idiot... unless he was doing it on purpose to deflect for some reason...!!!
"Is that...Stephanie?" Rudy asked in a mockingly shocked voice, arms spread wide in disbelief as he stepped forward a foot or two. "Wow. ..Goin' for a kinda trailer-trash/secret agent look, huh? I like it." It was very hard to tell if that was genuine pleasure in his voice or if he was mocking her.
His eyes left her to quickly glance over the other two in the room, instantly coming to the conclusion that the man she was clinging to was the A-1--no, wait, scratch that. That sparkle and "really happy to be here" look in his eyes was too lower level. So...the guy with glasses and...20 lb. hams for fists? Damn.
"Thought I'd find you two together," he graced them both with that knowing smirk, not hindered in the least by the presence of lower-level Agents. They could definitely start this conversation right here - the sooner he was back in his comfy status, the better. "Especially with the buzz circulating. After all these years, haven't changed your game at all, have you, Steph? And looks like big ole Mr. Pa-ten has got a taste for more than 'sugar and cupca--Stephanie! No wait--! Stop!!!" The lewd smile that had dominated his face as he began his little "I know what you've been up to" speech, instantly disappeared to be replaced by fear as she started walking swiftly towards him, violence defining every slender curve of her body.
Enough bullshitting! She had no freaking clue what he was going on about but it was not what she wanted to hear! Rudy danced back a few steps, whipping his head around, looking to hopefully hide behind Jason, but the suit-guy was giving them a wide berth as if he'd anticipated this. Shit! Turning back to her, any plans to run were demolished when her fist crashed into his face, and like Charlie Brown getting beaned by a baseball on the pitcher's mound, his body left the ground to sort of hover in place - short legs flying in the air and one shoe coming off - before slamming down on his back.
Stars filled his vision and he blinked several times trying to regain focus, fresh blood decorating a few teeth in milky red color. "Is that...how you say...'hello'?" he wheezed up at her, new pain making the skin of his cheek feel tight...or like it was hanging off the side of his face with muscle exposed. A quick tap with his fingertips proved that to be untrue, everything remaining intact but the flesh felt mushy and soft like rotten fruit. "Just like old times, eh, Steph?" having enough arrogance left to grin at her with red stained teeth.
But she ignored his immature jibes, focused in on one thing and one thing only - the hell she'd been going through for the past 12 hours since their phone conversation. "Where is she?"
From his comfy spot on the floor, not wanting to get up just yet, his eyebrows bounced in surprise and he turned his head to glance at Jason, in a slanted, upside down manner. Hmm, unstable reaction... Looking back at her, he gave her the simplest, most honest confused face he could muster and asked, "Who?" a second before he was gasping in pain again, her high heeled foot coming to stand directly on the bullet hole in his shoulder.
Feebly, his hands gripped her leg and pants, his feet working wildly at the smooth floor trying to find purchase, tiny tortured grunts and murmurs coming from his lips. "Don't fuck with me, Quin! Tell me where she is, like a good boy. Why is she not here with you right now? Did you hurt her? Did she escape you? Is she ALIVE??? I swear to God, if you've laid a hand on her...!" It wasn't just anger pulsating in Stephanie's voice anymore, but pure, unadulterated madness on a flaming train of rage, her green eyes sparking erratically. The leash holding her back from the edge was very thin...
Sweet baby Jesus, she looked so hot right now. And despite the agony screaming in his face and wounded shoulder, Rudy took the time to actually appreciate that once again, he was getting exactly what he wanted. Stephanie had always been a looker and that hadn't changed with her current haggard appearance. Green eyes like an Amazon jungle, her expression filled with something just as wild and untamed, giving him the most bowel-loosening, guilt inducing look he'd ever seen. Towering over him like a Goddess of death, curves covered in black, slimming fabric with her foot on his chest...punishing him...owning him...promising to do such awful, naughty things to him... It really was like training days all over again.
Even though he could sense she was at her limit of tolerance, everything about this pain had him feeling drunken with ecstasy and filled with adrenaline and...other hormones. Abandoning his blackmail plot for the moment, he decided just a little more...he could take it. "Listen, in hindsight, if you wanted information about something, you shouldn't have hit me in the head," all of which was said through gritted teeth as she put more of her weight onto him, the pointed heel practically stabbing into him, causing fresh blood to pool from the wound and over the top of her black shoe. Alright! That's enough! He was going to freaking pass out!
"I don't know!I don't know! I just woke up and she was gone, alright!? Ask that--" One of the hands clutching her calf and ankle came away and had been starting to point at Jason indicating him as "that dick over there" but at the word combination "she + gone" a small gasp left Stephanie's throat and she was stepping off of him. Quin had zero time to recover and no more words were traded between them as he was grabbed up by the front of his shirt and thrown through the doorway, the female Agent having no problem lifting his scrawny form in one hand and tossing him just as easily.
Then she was on him, lifting him from the ground just to make it easier to pound her fists into him, a hollow crack resounding with an echo, followed by a few teeth clattering on the floor of the hall. During this time, Quin's grunts and yelps of pain started as articulating a very real agony, something that even if the meaty sounds of her knuckles against his body were suddenly silenced, his voice alone could carry the weight of translating the brutality of what he was going through. But very quickly...his voice morphed into a confusing mixture of pain and pleasure, disturbing as a soundtrack to the scene, but becoming almost erotic if one were to close their eyes. And Stephanie herself was completely lost to the hate spilling out of her body, her training kicking in to make each rage-filled blow like a fluid dancer - despite the fact that eventually Rudy stopped trying to shield himself with his hands and flopped around like a doll, making him hardly an opponent worthy of each stance and graceful maneuver.
She didn't know whether to interpret "gone" as meaning Gwen had run away or that she was DEAD, but it didn't matter. The moron didn't have her! She'd been so close to getting everything she wanted and he'd shot her plans - her life - to pieces while spitting jokes out the side of his mouth like it didn't matter. He didn't deserve to live. So each fist in his stomach and every knee smashed into his face was done with an efficiency and edge that she no longer possessed inside her mind, the automatic training taking over and controlling her movements in her feral grief. She would kill the son of a bitch and rid the Agency of this useless tumor once and for all!
Not more than 10 minutes had passed before she was ready, chest rising and falling with barely contained sobs, positioning her victim sitting on his knees with one fist buried deep in his hair and viciously twisting his head at a vulnerable angle. Her other hand, nails shining in what little light there was, formed together with flattened palm and straight as an arrow, ready to put another lethal hole into Rudolph Quin.
Dazed, his whole body throbbing sickly, blood oozing from reopened wounds and several new ones, and yet pleasantly intoxicated by the whole event, Rudy opened swollen eyes to look up at her as she began to draw her hand back. That's when the pleasure and pain engulfed systems of his brain started churning again, stumbling to work properly - he knew what that was! Oh shit... he was gonna die! Nowaitaminute! What was the safe word???
"She's here!!!" he croaked in a half-scream, bruised and deformed eyes opening as wide as they would go. She hesitated at the admission, and he took that opening to wheeze and sputter weakly at her - he couldn't die! He had to fix this! "She's...here, in the building somewhere... We arrived by car and I had her...unconscious in the parking...garage..." Slowly the hand meant to attack him was being lowered and her other hand clutching at his sweat dampened hair was falling limply to her side, the rage contorting her features clearing to stare and gape at him as if she were going to fall over. "Sorry...did not make that clear. Stewart IS alive...a bit banged up - we had a rough time getting along...she's a bitch and all... but she'll be fine with a couple of Hello Kitty bandaids."
He was swallowing thickly at every pause, his voice actually level for once, full of fatigue and relieved to be given the opportunity to explain before his throat got ripped out. Needless to say, thoughts of bringing up the blackmail plan at this moment were miles away from his mind - Hoo! Boy! Jason hadn't been kidding! "I don't know where she is...in the building...check the cafeteria or wherever you guys keep food here... I took an involuntary nap by the elevator ..lost track of her... Ask your buddy with the goggles where she is, he seems pretty on top of things--"
Rudy's voice cut off as she suddenly plopped to her knees in front of him and was pulling him against her in a tight embrace, his nerves and internal alarm systems screaming as she clung to him. With her face buried over his shoulder, he quirked his eyebrows in confusion as she held him, not knowing what to make of this sort of behavior from her, especially not when her shoulders started to quake and the sound of her softly crying came to his ears. A disturbed sneer put itself on his face and his eyes darted around uncertainly as he awkwardly patted at her back in a gesture advertising in bright neon how uncomfortable he was right now. What the hell? Wasn't it bad enough that Stephanie was hugging him but she was...crying too? He was in Bizarro World, wasn't he? That had to be it.
Like free-falling, as soon as he'd uttered those blessed words, Stephanie's rage train had halted, spinning out into empty air. Alive. Here. Safe. Her target. Her new body. Gwen...
After being in such a tumultuous emotional state, she couldn't help but laugh in relief and suddenly she was, the sound bubbling up inside her as she still held onto Rudy's slender form. Tears stopped flowing as she finally sat back to look at him and he was looking at her even more warily now than he had in response to her anger. And she had to laugh at that too.
"Thank God! You stupid, masochistic bastard," she said with a smile, Rudy twitching as if she'd slapped him with the expression. "You CAN do something right." Gwen...was alive! Finding new strength and energy in that thought and even feeling a new pulse of adrenaline coursing through her, Stephanie stood fluidly and stared down at him, her face beaming like sunshine and making him wince through the bruises. "Thank you for going against your natural urge to fail and bringing her to me. As grateful as I am, this doesn't change the fact that I severely dislike you, wish to see you dead and hope that we never have to encounter each other again in the future."
She stood for a long while, silently watching him as if waiting for an answer. Rudy's head was hurting more than the beating she'd given him accounted for, but he drowzily snapped his head up at her and muttered an ambiguous "'Kay." before she seemed satisfied and turned away from him, casting him out of mind like a coat tossed aside.
"Pup! We can go now," she commanded in a pleasant yet authoritative tone, snapping her fingers once at him--Oh. He was beside her. Quick for his size, wasn't he? And she could practically feel his "tail" wagging as he stood at her side, barely containing his excitement behind a mask of pure elated joy. Stephanie was half-tempted to pat him on the head in response.
Then she was looking towards Jason and her eyes instantly glanced in Master's direction, the bright smile she was wearing growing sober as she remembered his new version of the "skip to Elmira" plan. Stephanie hesitated. She knew where Gwen probably was, based on Rudy's half-assed report to her, instantly ready to search out the infirmary somewhere in the base - that crack about the cafeteria made no sense, but then again, he was an imbecile; nothing about Rudy made sense. There was a very physical pull dragging at her body in that general direction, needing and wanting her target - Gwen was IN the same building as her! She'd be able to see her, talk to her, TOUCH her!!! And she'd never ever let go! - but she was held in place by the necessity to inform Jason of the change in plans...and the extreme lack of willingness to do so.
Master was watching. He trusted her to do this.
Silently, her hand searched out the Puppy's arm where he stood beside her, feeling a bit of courage return to her as nails bit into his forearm. "Jason," her voice wavering with the EDP monotone, the holes within the mask giving her enough room to breathe in deeply before continuing. "You're going to be staying behind to help the situation here and get Alexander moving in the right direction for Benoit to spring his trap. Your knowledge of the transfer process and availability will be crucial for everything to work. As soon as things are underway, you will join me in Elmira."
During this, she did a fairly good job of pretending to be the emotionless 'boss' that she was, but she broke briefly, letting a skittering glance at Master hold her back from making too much of a scene. "I will see you there, afterward," trying to command the universe with what was left of her crumbling will power, her eyes latched onto his and trying to silently make him understand that she didn't want this. Trying to tell him that she had faith in him to succeed. It was Alexander that she was afraid of.
Then she glanced once more at Master, hating him and adoring him in that one second, before she turned away, tugging the Puppy along with her. When they'd gotten some distance down the hall, she murmured to the Pup, "We need to stop off at the restrooms for a minute. I'm going to be ill..." He would be fine. Master promised her.
She couldn't move. Not just the straps across her chest, arms and legs that she could feel the tense weight of, but something deeper in her limbs as she twisted her arms and shifted. Each small movement felt like an incredible chore, draining her for the few seconds she tried to press against the restrictions, her own bones feeling 10 times heavier than they normally were. And fluttering her eyes open was even more of an effort, instantly squeezing them shut against painful white light stabbing into her corneas.
Squinting, she tested her bonds again only to give up when her arms melted into the hard thing beneath her, sighing in defeat and trying to get a look at her surroundings. White walls. Sterile floors that glistened in the harsh lighting. Smooth...metallic surfaces that shined as if polished... Blinking with deliberate effort, Gwen forced her eyes to open wider to take everything in, remembering...remembering... Her head was as heavy as everything else but in her prone position she couldn't see past the mounds on her own chest, rising and falling rapidly as her breathing grew more frantic, knowing what she would find but needing to see it.
With a supreme amount of exertion, she lifted her head from the hard surface beneath her, her eyes wandering over her own body and letting out a tiny sob of distress that sounded incredibly far away in her throat. She was strapped down to a table or a cot or something. Just like David in the brief memories she'd stolen from him. And she knew where she was. Not exactly, but there was only one place she could be. Rudy. The hellish road trip. He'd been taking her to Charlton--
Someone was in the room with her. Even as she limply turned to let her eyes wander in the general direction of the presence, she was reaching out mentally to touch them, her ability acting as sluggish as the rest of her like she was tossing a piece of string and aiming blindly. God...what had he injected her with? It seemed harder to shake than the other times she'd risen from unconsciousness in the hotel that they'd stayed in...
The female Agent had noticed her as well, hair pulled neatly back into a coal black bun, her almond shaped eyes, thin arching eyebrows and slightly olive tinged skin giving her an exotic appearance, but looking incredibly understated in her white uniform with thick black stripes down the sides. She'd been standing nearby, busying herself with small tasks, organizing and cleaning things, within sight of the young woman that had been brought to her, idly worrying about her charge waking up. When Gwen had started to move and make noise, Karen came back over to the side of the cot she'd been strapped to, reaching over to a tray that Gwen could barely see from her position. But from the contact she'd established - not much, since Karen put up mental walls that kept her out of the more personal depths - she knew that the Agent meant to drug her again.
'Nuuu..." Gwen whimpered weakly, shaking her head loosely from side to side, her nose growing red from unshed tears gathering in her eyes, as the other woman brought from the tray a small cotton swab and wiped at an exposed spot on her arm. Because along with remembering where she was, Gwen also remembered why she was here. Stephanie. Rudy was bringing her to Stephanie and now that they'd arrived... She couldn't black out again! She needed to escape! But so far, opportunities were not presenting themselves and she was still too physically and mentally sluggish to do anything.
"Please..." she begged softly as Karen silently reached to the tray again, her hand returning with a tiny syringe filled with a light grey, clear liquid.
A man with dark hair and eyebrows and a blue-collar delivery man uniform stepped into the room and stopped as Karen looked up, the needle point halted an inch from Gwen's skin.
"Oh. Uh...sorry... Didn't realize anyone was in here." Dark, agitated eyes swiftly moved around the room, while he smiled uncertainly at the nonplussed female Agent. His pronunciation came out slightly off - the word "here" sounding like "he-uh" - but Gwen could not place the accent and was having trouble reaching out to him. Thankfully, Karen was fully distracted by his intrusion and set the syringe aside, turning from Gwen to address him in professional tones.
"You're one of the street level Agents aren't you?" she asked in a clipped voice. "What do you want?"
As she stood up straight and turned her willowy form to talk to him, the man's nervous gaze swept quickly over her appreciatively, noticing through her plain uniform and homely make-up the natural assets that she possessed. Gwen only knew he noticed because of the feedback she got from Karen, who instead of hauling his ass out of there right away, responded with restrained curiosity - she knew what that haunted look in his eyes meant, but...he was kind of cute. After a bit of fumbling with her focus and pushing herself to concentrate, Gwen was finally able to reach out to him too, finding him a lot more open than Karen was.
"Well...I..uh..." Todd was searching for something to say, other than the truth, because this gal was obviously higher level than him and would probably write him up for venturing into this section of the building without clearance. He and the other guys who'd come with the delivery truck were supposed to be outta here already, but the trip back down to Mass. was gonna be hell if he didn't...stock up first. "I was here droppin' offa body and uh...one a' the guys hurt himself. Thought I'd run up here and see if I couldn't find any pills or somethin' to shut 'im up before we hit the road."
Comprehension dawned in Karen's face but she did not for a second believe the story he was spouting - and it had very little to do with the strained look in his eyes or the edgy pauses as he tried to come up with the lie right in front of her. She was done being entertained. "You're not authorized to be here and you need to leave before I call security to escort you from the building," she said coldly, setting her shoulders back in an authoritative posture. As an A-8 she wasn't very high on the foodchain but she was definitely higher than this scumbag.
Todd cracked a weaselly smile at that, obviously trying to recover the good will that had possessed her a moment before. "Come awn, help a guy out? Just a bottle or two of Agency pain killers - it doesn't need to be reported where they went, 'cause I doubt anybody'll miss 'em."
"I'm sure your 'friend' will be fine taking something over the counter from Rite Aid," Karen responded with a slight mocking inflection in her voice. "Besides, that's against the rules." She turned away from him to superficially adjust the things on the tray by Gwen's cot pretending to ignore him, but she was still listening.
"Yeah..." he said with a lazy grin by the doorway. "Anythin' else goin' on down here that's against the rules?"
Karen wanted to balk at the implication and to blush about the tone that had entered his voice, to deny him what he was asking her to do - and how dare he even ask! - but right then she'd locked gazes with Gwen, who's blue eyes seemed to glow an unnatural cerulean color making her thoughts about rules and such seem to sink further and further away.
"No, you have to leave--" Karen started to say, before breaking in the middle of her sentence and looking at him oddly. Then her eyes glanced at one of the clear glass and metal framed cabinets against the wall that held the stuff she knew he wanted. Biting her lip a little, she looked back at him. "Over there," she said with a small jerk of her head, and the surprise in his eyes melted to one of satisfaction as he glanced warily behind himself and proceeded over to that side of the room.
It had worked! In all honesty, Todd had expected the uptight bitch to toss him out with nothing, but here she was givin' in like a good gal. Ladies couldn't resist that ol' Southie charm. As he crossed the room to the cabinets she'd indicated, peering over his shoulder every few steps to make sure no one else had shown up at the door, Karen let a hand trail to her forehead, her eyebrows wrinkling as she frowned at the floor. She wasn't supposed to be doing this... She wasn't supposed to be allowing him access... But she was given another mental push when Todd motioned her over.
"It's locked," he said, standing with the glass paned doors open and tugging at a small metallic drawer amidst the shelves, showing her how it would not budge.
Karen hesitated a moment more but was wandering over to him, pulling a small ring of keys from her pocket - the keys themselves had no teeth but were 3 inch long, thin square-shaped rods, unseen codes burned into their metal surfaces. As she drew closer, Todd stepped a little out of her way, but caught a whiff of something soft and fragrant from her like a sucker punch to the face. Looking down at her - she wasn't short, but her head was down-turned towards the locked drawer as she searched out the appropriate key - he noticed up close the particular Persian diamond shape to her dark eyes, long lashes fluttering over high-cheekbones and...
Looking away while she worked, he sniffed and rubbed a thumb at his nose, his eyes falling on the young woman on the cot, noticing for the first time that she was strapped down. Gwen had regained enough motor control to crane her neck back to watch him from a slanted angle, and her eyes bored into his as well as she probed and poked feebly at his mind.
"Wazzat?" he asked with a small nod in Gwen's direction.
Karen glanced at what he was talking about, her head turning and shaking loose a strand of dark hair to drape along the side of her face and curl at her chin. "Classified. Don't worry about it," she said casually, turning back to the cabinet and inserting the right key, the lock releasing a series of high, metallic "pings" and "clicks".
Swallowing thickly, she tugged the drawer open and motioned at it, but he was still looking thoughtfully at the girl on the table and had to be nudged before he was aware she'd finally opened it. Instead of walking away and going back to work, she felt a slight pressure to remain where she was and stayed nearby as he looked through the drawer of restricted medications for what he wanted.
There was something Karen Kraft was supposed to be doing... That other Agent, the one with the specialized suit had told her to be careful about something, but everytime she tried to focus on the thought, her attention was drawn back to the dark eyed delivery guy.
"So...what part of Boston are you from?" she asked casually, feeling like she suddenly really wanted to know more about him - which she DID, but the urge was so pressing and strong, seeming to cast aside the responsibilities of her station.
Looking over the different bottles and vials in the cabinet, Todd paused and a small smirk tugged at his lips to hear her question. He didn't know why but it suddenly seemed really funny, even as something else deep inside nudged at him and got him to glance at her. She was biting her lips again, her olive, golden skin now painted with a small noticeable blush and that piece of black hair still framed the side of her face... His hand, moving of it's own accord, drifted up to gently tuck it behind her ear - and surprisingly, she allowed him to do it - their eyes meeting as he said in a low teasing voice, "That's classified."
There was a whirlwind of sudden movement and a rush of hormones clashing between them and the two Agents were pressed lips to lip, the drugs in his hand forgotten and dropped as arms like snakes coiled around eachother frantically. Heated breathing accompanied the sound of other things on other shelves being disturbed as the two haphazardly and blindly danced about in an attempt to find purchase or leverage...or something to better facilitate getting at each other.
Gwen lay where she was, staring silently, her breathing calming as she clung to the two threads of suggestion that grew stronger by the minute, buying herself enough time to build up her strength and lift from the fog that still swam at the edges of her mind. And...for the time being she couldn't help but feel a little proud of what she'd set into motion - not just the fact that her powers were growing, but also...she was not just a fantasy-romance novelist but had become an actual orchestrator of such in real life. Maybe...if she escaped from this hell...she could drop the whole 'writing" thing and become a match-maker?
His refusal to give her anything concrete or to even apologize for it did make her feel angry, but she shoved it aside when he started talking about something else. Fine. She wouldn't confront him now. She basically knew what was up anyways and they had more important things to deal with than reiterating the whole "Alex is an asshole" thing. Knowing what she did about him and his personality, it would no doubt come up again later.
The new concerns he brought up got her to thinking critically again, feeling pumped and yet a little hesitant about the upcoming battle. "Well...I haven't really seen anything from these guys that's been an active or successful repellent. I mean, they don't show up in full body sci-fi suits or anything, ya know? Every once and a while I'll face a few guys who are dressed really slick and just won't light up as easy as I want...but I've told you before about the flammability of skin. I'm not kidding. And there's always something exposed to give me that opening because they always attack me in public and gotta look normal, I guess."
She shrugged, trying to remember if she'd ever seen anything strange used by these people over the years, but other than what she considered typical guns, nothing really came to mind or stood out. And Ozzie had no idea about the gun he kept referring to Rudy having. If she was more willing to believe the idiot wasn't capable of violence, she would have called Alex a liar about that too.
"As far as 'where should you stand'? I don't really care. I'm not gonna burn ya, if that's what you're worried about. I've never done anything like this...especially not on a team or anything like that, but I'm pretty good as far as controlling where it goes and what it does. Besides, I'm not really looking to bring the flames out until you're...passed out again or whatever you're gonna be. I figure that'll be about the mid-point of everything and I should have enough energy to just burn a freaking hole through everything that moves after that."
That's about the time that she realized she hadn't really mentioned to him about that other weakness that her powers had. It was another one of those things that she was reluctant to give Alex, merely because he could be a jerk and well..if thing in his head that he kept on trying to talk to was what she thought it was... How safe would it be to tell him everything? Then again, if he really meant her no harm, then keeping it from him would only hurt them if she ended up fizzling out in the middle of everything and leaving him stranded.
"I mean, it's not a big deal... I can keep it up for a long time and there's plenty I can do just using the air as fuel. What happened back at that office building is a really bad example of how well I operate, one, because you freaking pissed me off and I lost my cool and two, because I wasn't allowed to kill ole whatshername. But it's not how I usually do things. I've been surviving for years by not relying entirely on my gift except as a distraction, mass kill or escape plan." Not really true. It was about half-and-half whether she'd whip the fire out in non-defensive situations in the first place and whether she'd go all the way to burning her enemies when they finally showed up. "It does have a bit of an energy limit, but it's a wide edge with lots of room to move about in. Now...about Rudy..."
It was still a bit awkward to talk about him like this, to think of him as an Agent, but it was definitely getting easier. And Alex was certainly helping. That did not mean that she liked it. "I think you're giving him way too much credit while also forgetting the fact that there's no reason for him to suspect me of following you there. But, worse case scenario, we'll assume that he knows. If he's in charge to any degree for preparing for me...I still don't think we'll have much to worry about. Do you want to know what his strategy is and has always been - at least as far as I've been able to figure out?" She glanced at Alex, giving him a level look. "You remember how he popped up out of nowhere and followed me around and then later, those guys showed up and charged us? Yeah. That's basically been on repeat for the last 6 years of my life. Not the capturing Gwen thing though...that was new. And don't--!"
She glared at him warningly. "Don't tell me how obvious it is that he's always been with them, alright? I know how stupid it looks but... You don't know what it was like and you don't know how...how he is. Sometimes, he'd show up and hang around for a while before shit started happening and it was like old times, back when we first met and I had a life and a job. And there's never been more than about a month in between times when he shows up, usually coming out of nowhere a few weeks after the last time I saw him."
Alright, rehashing this wasn't helping and it certainly wasn't pertinent to the planning in this situation. "The point is, the dumbass hasn't changed tactics for 6 years. Which, you can kind of get where I'm coming from as far as thinking these Agent-people or whatever are halfwits - it's all I've ever encountered from them. So, assuming he knows I'm coming and has the chance to cook up something in preparation... I'm honestly more worried about whatever the people who're expecting you have in store. But from the fact that you're falling apart and still able to kick ass, I don't know whether to take that as a point for or against them being idiots too. I mean, our trunk buddy is certainly playing with a full deck--didya see the look she gave me when I told you I wanted to cook her as punishment? Ha!"
Osono took a pause to belt out a raspy giggle, shaking her head in amused disbelief. "Anybody who mistakes me for someone in any kind of authority position has either got some perception issues to work out OR the whole organization is really as fucked up as I'm thinking it is. I mean, if they've got people like ME running the place..."
She shook her head and was once again fixated on the road. "Who goes in first. Since they're expecting you, I say we give 'em what we know for a fact they're already lookin' for and then I'll be at your back and totally pull the rug from underneath 'em. Sound like a plan?"
***
As soon as the word "apologize" came from the man's mouth, a smug smile plastered itself across Rudy's bruised and misshapen face. Worked like a charm. After the long line of failures and hardships he'd been suffering lately, it was good to finally be back on track with things working the way they were suppose to. And he couldn't help but notice that Stewart wasn't here. Maybe she'd contributed more to his bad luck than he'd originally assumed? Well, no matter. She was gone and out of his hands and a weight had been lifted. His mojo was back!When the lackey hesitated before stating Stephanie's current location, Rudy instantly zeroed in on it, his eyebrows coming down in a considering look - especially when he brought up the A-1.
"I'll bet she is," Rudy murmured in a voice rife with implications and a matching smirk. So, it looked like his old training camp buddy was still at it, working her way up the Agency ladder the old-fashioned way. Knowing what he knew about her, it didn't surprise him in the least. Typical Agency woman.
There was the hint of worry passing over him like a cloud to hear that she'd focused her attentions on the A-1, Mr. Patten. The guy who'd threatened and demoted him and made Rudy almost wet himself through the phone lines - the jerk. Obviously, she was busy pursuing her own goals and planning ahead, aiming high, etc. But with Patten wrapped around her finger, it was very possible that Rudy'd still be in hot water with the both of them, especially if Patten felt the need to protect her - and from Rudy's experience, women like Stephanie were always dominant, no matter whether they let you ride on top or not. It took a special skill set to turn the tables on them without them realizing how much control they'd lost. Not having really met the A-1 officially yet, he wanted to assume Eric had that particular strength of character - he certainly seemed like the "in-control" type - but still, he could feel that axe hovering over his head again...just a little bit.
On the plus side, if Rudy played his cards right, the little bit of info he had on Steph would work to snare both her AND the A-1 and get him what he wanted in the end. Nobody wanted their own plans disrupted or their closets opened wide for public review - and this Patten guy would no doubt suffer some sort of consequences for an "unprofessional" relationship. A-1's couldn't be exempt from everything since they had a standard to uphold...right? So, they'd likely agree to his very simple demands just to get rid of him. This predictability of Agency personnel had gotten him where he was today and although he'd never gone up against an A-1 before, if the guy was shagging Stephanie - and this suit-dude had definitely just let it slip that he was - then he'd be just as humanly fallible as the rest. Piece. Of. Cake.
And these thoughts only continued to grow and blossom the more the other guy kept talking, stars glowing in Rudy's eyes to hear words like "reward" and "influential" and his own words repeated back to him "owed", "favour" and "provide". Why, yes, ALL of that, please and thank you. They even sounded better coming from suit-guy's mouth as if they were hiding even greater promises than Rudy himself had implied. Even though this guy had been a bit of a goody-two-shoes smart-mouth to begin with, Rudy was definitely growing more and more fond of him by the minute. Not enough to be friends or anything but he'd learned his lesson quicker than most and although not exactly the perfect picture of humble, he'd at least changed his tone to being more cooperative and respectful. Not to mention the dude was a fountain of information and he didn't even seem to realize how much ammo he was giving Rudy to play with. Heh, sucka.
When he mentioned that Stephanie was in an "aggressive mood lately" Rudy snorted loudly and cocked an amused eyebrow. "Are we talkin' about the same chick, here? Blonde woman? Works for the Agency? Likes torture and eats men for breakfast? You think she's cranky today, then you just haven't been around the bitch long enough. It's pretty much a constant with her."
Although Rudy was really beginning to doubt how closely this guy knew his own boss, he was definitely liking the sound of "unstable reaction." Not to say that Rudy had a death wish or anything but...he remembered the creative imagination Stephanie put to work when she got violent. And that'd been exactly what he'd had in mind when he'd let his fist pound into Gwen Stewart's face the few times it had. The look Stephanie would give him and what she'd possibly DO to him in her anger... Oh yeeaah... It'd make everything he'd suffered through at the hands of possessed truckers and assistants, worthwhile. Suit-dude probably hadn't gotten a chance to enjoy his Lead's fists of rage, but Rudy most certainly would!
The blackmail thing was the real ticket to getting what he needed, despite the pissing and moaning Rudy'd done over his condition and what he'd gone through and whatever else he'd mentioned to this guy about how important dropping Gwen off was - it was a whole other separate thing. Even though he'd been forgiven by Mr. Patten, there was still the demotion to deal with. And Noel had outgrown her usefulness when she'd kept important information from him and gone over his head with the whole "specialized Agents" thing - which he was almost certain now that it'd been a trap to snare him in this kind of trouble and knock him down a few pegs. He had been getting a little...comfortable with jerking her around lately. Heh.
Picking up Gwen had given him the opportunity to redeem his actions back at the restaurant - namely keeping Patten from killing him for losing his men - but the blackmail of past and present deeds would secure him a position back where he'd been, independent of Noel and her manipulative lies. And when the time was right, he had enough on her to damage her career as well. Revenge margaritas for everybody!
"Hey, and thanks for the tips, but I already know what I need to tell her," he said with another bruised smile, as if the man were toeing that line of propriety again. But, Rudy was willing to forgive the guy for speaking out of turn. Afterall. He was someone new to talk to!
Making his way to the stairs - that's where he'd said Stephanie and Patten were, right? - Rudy kept speaking over his shoulder at the goggle guy while talking again in his rapid, excited tone. "So, are you one of those losers who didn't 'get' the ending of Lost? Do you need me to explain the season finale to you? You remember the whole 'alternate timeline' thing right?"
It wasn't an actual question and regardless of what the other man said, he was going to give him his long-practiced rant about it. Other than briefly slipping on the bloody steps - and doing the splits sideways, before he achingly righted himself - Rudy's mouth was speeding off, a fountain of useless knowledge with barely a breath in between sentences.
***
She felt a deep sense of satisfaction that her words had hit their mark and Stephanie definitely expected him to fire back with barbs of his own - the heat of adrenaline still pulsing within her, making her feel eager to blame him for everything that had gone wrong with this case. He'd gotten his toy and hers was probably dead in a ravine somewhere with an idiot. And it was HIS case that had tripped her up in the first place. How was that even fair?Then Master was there, delightfully soothing and she couldn't help getting the feeling that despite her willingness to get petty and even dirty about things, he had her back. It might have been the fact that Master and Benoit had been at odds since he'd first shown up, but she was comforted by the assumption that she had his support.
Her case had been EASY before Benoit had stepped into the picture. Now everything was becoming so complex - extra long time spent with a sexually appealing partner, drugs being needed to deal with all the stress, an elaborate trap set up just to capture two people, an A-1 coming along for the ride, etc. And now if/when Gwen arrived, Stephanie would need to hop over a few cities to wait and pray that the fool her target had been traveling with didn't come looking for her and try to take her back. She couldn't help but feel justified, now that Gwen was practically dead - just waiting for the confirmation, Oh God... please let him arrive safely with her... - in being angry that his original plan, the one that involved Alexander, was falling into perfect symmetry, while she was losing everything.
'No one’s sayin’ you can’t do it'. Uh, no, actually, that was exactly what she was saying. On the slim chance that Gwen was still on her way here, alive and perfectly safe, Benoit could not hide from the fact that he had yet to lay hands on his target in any fashion. How long had Alexander been upstairs at the apartment before he'd come rushing back down to ruin her life? Not long enough, Benoit.
Stephanie did not excuse him for "the guest" being an ex-Agent, nor did she excuse him for "living" where others had fallen - she and Jason had both lived through it. If it were really all that great a feat, then he had to weigh it against the fact that his target was a moron and should have been caught ages ago for making simple mistakes like "allowing dangerous people to live". She didn't even feel sorry that Jean had died - Master looked so much better in his skin and it felt like they hadn't really lost the French flunky with him around.
Benoit had failed. Jason had failed. Jean had failed. She had failed. She was surrounded by incompetence, stuck in the muddy hole with these pigs, unable to climb out and clean herself off. And it was driving her crazy thinking that this pompous ass probably had it all 'figured out' and would end up letting the moron slip past him yet again or worse, somehow pointing both Alexanders straight at Elmira where she would be.
And although he kept himself somewhat civil, he wasn't really saying anything to change her new outlook on the whole situation - nope, it was almost a certainty. If Gwen wasn't running free or dead, then she would be before the plan had reached fruition. Before Stephanie got what she really wanted - what she needed. And it would all be thanks to this jackass and his inability to see past his own nose!
Stephanie faded out during the drama between Master and the A-2, not really caring that the two didn't like each other or the reasons why. She respected and was fond of them both and wouldn't choose sides. The way they acted like bickering children in front of lower levels was one of those things she was perfectly willing to turn and look the other way from. Idly, she kept scratching at the Puppy, feeling calmed by the plushy sponginess in his skin to her sharpened nails and let the explosive voices wash over her like a soundtrack to her mutilation.
When Benoit was addressing her again, she visibly bristled at his implied threat against Jason - putting Alexander into the equation only made it sound like the guy was a missile that could be pointed in a specific direction - and she glared hatefully at him as he turned before she could respond. Even so, she had no idea what she would have said. Master was still here and despite her earlier breezy considerations about the whole "Jason situation", she was not going to openly admit anything by defending her partner or calling Benoit to task for his words. Especially not when Benoit himself hammered home how little the A-6 Agent was supposed to mean to her in comparison to her case.
Fine. She wasn't going to talk about Jean anymore. Big deal. If he'd just do everything he was suppose to and do it right, she'd never have to see his snobby face again after this. And Jason wouldn't be threatened either. Thinking of Jason made her feel sad all over again, watching the door eagerly, tempted to leave and go look for him. She needed him here with her. She couldn't take all these stupid snobs and overly expectant bigwigs surrounding her all the time. She needed him here to hold her and erase the horrible things Benoit had said and the visuals that accompanied his statements.
There was a slight tremor running through her when the Pup was suddenly exploding with sound and she turned back to stare at him as if she intended to choke the life out of him. Madeline could get away with screaming because she was an A-2, but there was no excuse for the Puppy to shout in her ear--! Oh. He was upset about the coming battle. That made sense. He was someone that Stephanie fully expected to die when Alexander showed up. And she was as saddened by the fact as she would have been if he were an actual dog. Some lower levels were less important than others.
In response, Master was charming and full of good humor as always, warming Stephanie in an odd way while still making her feel on edge and alert in his presence. She wasn't as affected as Gary was by it, but when Master laughed, a certain look came over her face, like that of absolute worship or as if she were tempted to sing that chorus of joy herself. And amidst his ever admirable attempts to disperse the Puppy's fears, he turned to her and told her "not to worry", his voice coming like that of a friendly father-figure to her ears, full of understanding and good will. She almost swooned but nodded instead, forgetting Benoit and his nastiness all because the Master told her to.
And then he had to throw glitter and fireflies into the air and bring a blush to her face with that "Elmira" comment. Oh! Why, yes... she was going to be flying to Elmira VERY soon. Everything was going to be alright. Master said so.
She blinked hazily, her attention fixated on the large man as he addressed her with another concern, following him blindly along in this half-brainstorming conversation - she honestly didn't want to think that the Master didn't have everything all figured out like the omnipotent God he appeared to be, but she was just as eager as the Puppy to help him, to offer her assistance, to be needed by him and validated by his resulting glory. There was something almost apologetic and modest when he said this conversation wasn't meant for her but she instantly forgave him at the mere implication. And his reasoning definitely had her furrowing her brow trying to think but also secretly waiting for the Master to lead her to the answer he wanted, which...he eventually did.
Stephanie had been nodding her head tightly to everything he'd been saying up to this point, practically numbed by her all-encompassing need to please and follow him. But then the small, adoring smile and light in her green eyes vanished like a building crumbling. What...? Jason? Jason!?!?!? Her whole body tensed as she gave him a very penetrating look, filling her lungs with a VERY deep breath through her nose as if she were getting ready to scream. When his hands came up defensively, the mere gesture commanding her body to calm down, whatever unearthly noise that had been building inside her halted itself from escaping.
So, she didn't scream or shout or cry. She wanted to. She adored the Master to such an overwhelming degree that she felt like they were part of the same person when she was around him, rather than a separate entity with her own thoughts and feelings. But the urge to let out a roar of rage, slice his thickly muscled throat with her fingernails and tell him to go fuck himself was VERY real and very strong.
Once again, however, Master's voice took on that particular timbre... On the outside, it could feel like he was running this new plan by her first for her approval, but deeper down, he'd already made the decision and she felt powerless to say anything contrary to his will. And all the while, as much as she wanted to break down and cry and beg him not to do this to her - after what Benoit had SAID!!! - he was filled with overflowing sympathy and confidence that rushed over her like cooling water.
It was...a good plan. To be truthful. And Master was right. Alexander would not harm someone who could give him what he wanted...would he? Master said he wouldn't and she felt his promise in those words - especially the phrase "skeddadles back over to you", so simple and lighthearted. And then to top it all off, he was once again calming the inner panic that Rudy would show up dragging a corpse on a leash, by talking about Gwen in the present tense. Making her real with the simple reverberation of his voice, showing yet more support for Stephanie and what she was trying to do, in not so many words telling her that he knew she could do it. And that more than anything else he'd said - logically reasoned, yes, it all made sense not to do the transfer HERE; they'd been over all of this already! Keep up, Pup! - made her calm down and release that large intake of breath she'd pulled in when he'd first said Jason's name, in a long, uneven sigh.
"Okay," she said with a firm nod, blinking slowly at Master again. Trusting him, again. And turning to the excited Pup, feeling indirectly caged in by his exuberance because of Master's orders to him, she smiled wanly and nodded at him as well. "Soon. We can leave as soon as--"
"Then I was like, 'Don't Mess with the combo master??," Rudy's voice could be heard from the hallway rambling on in full-tilt 'story-mode'. "Your 'combo' counters are horrible. Of course an opponent can always respond, the idea is how difficult is it for an opponent to respond. I'll Terror, Dark Banishing, Oblivion Ring, Path to Exile, Unsummon your Fusion Elemental.. can you do that to Uril, the Miststalker? Of course not. And it is with that reasoning that I am saying Uril is a better card in general compared to Fusion Elemental.'"
The familiar rapidly moving voice was getting louder the closer he got and Stephanie slowly turned with widening eyes towards the doorway, Rudy seemingly drawn there by the red glow cascading into the dimly lit hall.
"I totally said that to him too," his haughty voice went on. "The little snot was so pissed and kept trying to argue with me about it, but he didn't have a leg to stand on. Do you know what it's like to get an arrogant 12 year old brat to run crying to their mom during a Tournament, Jason?" During their trek upstairs, he'd gotten the goggle-dude to give him his name. "It's freaking hilarious, especially when you've totally owned them in the matches. All that practice - wah, wah wah! Big man knows more about Magic cards than me! Pfffft!"
A heavy tempo had gathered in Stephanie's lungs as she stood watching that very familiar, short man approach the room, walking breezily along but looking like hell had taken a shit on him. Her immediate concern was not for him or his condition but for what his arrival promised and her eyes were frantically searching beside him on either side for Gwen. Nothing. Her eyes widened and zipped to Jason who was shadowing him, but there was no one in his hands either! Her eyes were back on Rudy as he stopped and entered the room, her gaze clinging to every small wound and blood stain on his person and trying to make some sort of sense of it all in relation to the fact that GWEN WAS NOT WITH HIM!!!!!!
Quin's rant fell silent as they came abreast of the doorway and he stepped towards it, eyes sweeping over the people present before focusing on the stasis tanks behind them. "Oh, man, I totally read this in issue #305 of Tremor Tower. And," he paused for a 10 second beat to let his eyes travel over each tank and their contents individually before seemingly coming to a crucial conclusion. "None of these clones look alike. You need to fire your genetic engineer." He nodded sagely and then made a lazy "finger gun" in Master's general direction. "You're welcome," as if he'd just given them some really important advice.
Stephanie would have rolled her eyes if she weren't standing rooted in place, her body trembling ever so slightly - how could he make jokes right now??? Did he KNOW why he was here??? The idiot... unless he was doing it on purpose to deflect for some reason...!!!
"Is that...Stephanie?" Rudy asked in a mockingly shocked voice, arms spread wide in disbelief as he stepped forward a foot or two. "Wow. ..Goin' for a kinda trailer-trash/secret agent look, huh? I like it." It was very hard to tell if that was genuine pleasure in his voice or if he was mocking her.
His eyes left her to quickly glance over the other two in the room, instantly coming to the conclusion that the man she was clinging to was the A-1--no, wait, scratch that. That sparkle and "really happy to be here" look in his eyes was too lower level. So...the guy with glasses and...20 lb. hams for fists? Damn.
"Thought I'd find you two together," he graced them both with that knowing smirk, not hindered in the least by the presence of lower-level Agents. They could definitely start this conversation right here - the sooner he was back in his comfy status, the better. "Especially with the buzz circulating. After all these years, haven't changed your game at all, have you, Steph? And looks like big ole Mr. Pa-ten has got a taste for more than 'sugar and cupca--Stephanie! No wait--! Stop!!!" The lewd smile that had dominated his face as he began his little "I know what you've been up to" speech, instantly disappeared to be replaced by fear as she started walking swiftly towards him, violence defining every slender curve of her body.
Enough bullshitting! She had no freaking clue what he was going on about but it was not what she wanted to hear! Rudy danced back a few steps, whipping his head around, looking to hopefully hide behind Jason, but the suit-guy was giving them a wide berth as if he'd anticipated this. Shit! Turning back to her, any plans to run were demolished when her fist crashed into his face, and like Charlie Brown getting beaned by a baseball on the pitcher's mound, his body left the ground to sort of hover in place - short legs flying in the air and one shoe coming off - before slamming down on his back.
Stars filled his vision and he blinked several times trying to regain focus, fresh blood decorating a few teeth in milky red color. "Is that...how you say...'hello'?" he wheezed up at her, new pain making the skin of his cheek feel tight...or like it was hanging off the side of his face with muscle exposed. A quick tap with his fingertips proved that to be untrue, everything remaining intact but the flesh felt mushy and soft like rotten fruit. "Just like old times, eh, Steph?" having enough arrogance left to grin at her with red stained teeth.
But she ignored his immature jibes, focused in on one thing and one thing only - the hell she'd been going through for the past 12 hours since their phone conversation. "Where is she?"
From his comfy spot on the floor, not wanting to get up just yet, his eyebrows bounced in surprise and he turned his head to glance at Jason, in a slanted, upside down manner. Hmm, unstable reaction... Looking back at her, he gave her the simplest, most honest confused face he could muster and asked, "Who?" a second before he was gasping in pain again, her high heeled foot coming to stand directly on the bullet hole in his shoulder.
Feebly, his hands gripped her leg and pants, his feet working wildly at the smooth floor trying to find purchase, tiny tortured grunts and murmurs coming from his lips. "Don't fuck with me, Quin! Tell me where she is, like a good boy. Why is she not here with you right now? Did you hurt her? Did she escape you? Is she ALIVE??? I swear to God, if you've laid a hand on her...!" It wasn't just anger pulsating in Stephanie's voice anymore, but pure, unadulterated madness on a flaming train of rage, her green eyes sparking erratically. The leash holding her back from the edge was very thin...
Sweet baby Jesus, she looked so hot right now. And despite the agony screaming in his face and wounded shoulder, Rudy took the time to actually appreciate that once again, he was getting exactly what he wanted. Stephanie had always been a looker and that hadn't changed with her current haggard appearance. Green eyes like an Amazon jungle, her expression filled with something just as wild and untamed, giving him the most bowel-loosening, guilt inducing look he'd ever seen. Towering over him like a Goddess of death, curves covered in black, slimming fabric with her foot on his chest...punishing him...owning him...promising to do such awful, naughty things to him... It really was like training days all over again.
Even though he could sense she was at her limit of tolerance, everything about this pain had him feeling drunken with ecstasy and filled with adrenaline and...other hormones. Abandoning his blackmail plot for the moment, he decided just a little more...he could take it. "Listen, in hindsight, if you wanted information about something, you shouldn't have hit me in the head," all of which was said through gritted teeth as she put more of her weight onto him, the pointed heel practically stabbing into him, causing fresh blood to pool from the wound and over the top of her black shoe. Alright! That's enough! He was going to freaking pass out!
"I don't know!I don't know! I just woke up and she was gone, alright!? Ask that--" One of the hands clutching her calf and ankle came away and had been starting to point at Jason indicating him as "that dick over there" but at the word combination "she + gone" a small gasp left Stephanie's throat and she was stepping off of him. Quin had zero time to recover and no more words were traded between them as he was grabbed up by the front of his shirt and thrown through the doorway, the female Agent having no problem lifting his scrawny form in one hand and tossing him just as easily.
Then she was on him, lifting him from the ground just to make it easier to pound her fists into him, a hollow crack resounding with an echo, followed by a few teeth clattering on the floor of the hall. During this time, Quin's grunts and yelps of pain started as articulating a very real agony, something that even if the meaty sounds of her knuckles against his body were suddenly silenced, his voice alone could carry the weight of translating the brutality of what he was going through. But very quickly...his voice morphed into a confusing mixture of pain and pleasure, disturbing as a soundtrack to the scene, but becoming almost erotic if one were to close their eyes. And Stephanie herself was completely lost to the hate spilling out of her body, her training kicking in to make each rage-filled blow like a fluid dancer - despite the fact that eventually Rudy stopped trying to shield himself with his hands and flopped around like a doll, making him hardly an opponent worthy of each stance and graceful maneuver.
She didn't know whether to interpret "gone" as meaning Gwen had run away or that she was DEAD, but it didn't matter. The moron didn't have her! She'd been so close to getting everything she wanted and he'd shot her plans - her life - to pieces while spitting jokes out the side of his mouth like it didn't matter. He didn't deserve to live. So each fist in his stomach and every knee smashed into his face was done with an efficiency and edge that she no longer possessed inside her mind, the automatic training taking over and controlling her movements in her feral grief. She would kill the son of a bitch and rid the Agency of this useless tumor once and for all!
Not more than 10 minutes had passed before she was ready, chest rising and falling with barely contained sobs, positioning her victim sitting on his knees with one fist buried deep in his hair and viciously twisting his head at a vulnerable angle. Her other hand, nails shining in what little light there was, formed together with flattened palm and straight as an arrow, ready to put another lethal hole into Rudolph Quin.
Dazed, his whole body throbbing sickly, blood oozing from reopened wounds and several new ones, and yet pleasantly intoxicated by the whole event, Rudy opened swollen eyes to look up at her as she began to draw her hand back. That's when the pleasure and pain engulfed systems of his brain started churning again, stumbling to work properly - he knew what that was! Oh shit... he was gonna die! Nowaitaminute! What was the safe word???
"She's here!!!" he croaked in a half-scream, bruised and deformed eyes opening as wide as they would go. She hesitated at the admission, and he took that opening to wheeze and sputter weakly at her - he couldn't die! He had to fix this! "She's...here, in the building somewhere... We arrived by car and I had her...unconscious in the parking...garage..." Slowly the hand meant to attack him was being lowered and her other hand clutching at his sweat dampened hair was falling limply to her side, the rage contorting her features clearing to stare and gape at him as if she were going to fall over. "Sorry...did not make that clear. Stewart IS alive...a bit banged up - we had a rough time getting along...she's a bitch and all... but she'll be fine with a couple of Hello Kitty bandaids."
He was swallowing thickly at every pause, his voice actually level for once, full of fatigue and relieved to be given the opportunity to explain before his throat got ripped out. Needless to say, thoughts of bringing up the blackmail plan at this moment were miles away from his mind - Hoo! Boy! Jason hadn't been kidding! "I don't know where she is...in the building...check the cafeteria or wherever you guys keep food here... I took an involuntary nap by the elevator ..lost track of her... Ask your buddy with the goggles where she is, he seems pretty on top of things--"
Rudy's voice cut off as she suddenly plopped to her knees in front of him and was pulling him against her in a tight embrace, his nerves and internal alarm systems screaming as she clung to him. With her face buried over his shoulder, he quirked his eyebrows in confusion as she held him, not knowing what to make of this sort of behavior from her, especially not when her shoulders started to quake and the sound of her softly crying came to his ears. A disturbed sneer put itself on his face and his eyes darted around uncertainly as he awkwardly patted at her back in a gesture advertising in bright neon how uncomfortable he was right now. What the hell? Wasn't it bad enough that Stephanie was hugging him but she was...crying too? He was in Bizarro World, wasn't he? That had to be it.
Like free-falling, as soon as he'd uttered those blessed words, Stephanie's rage train had halted, spinning out into empty air. Alive. Here. Safe. Her target. Her new body. Gwen...
After being in such a tumultuous emotional state, she couldn't help but laugh in relief and suddenly she was, the sound bubbling up inside her as she still held onto Rudy's slender form. Tears stopped flowing as she finally sat back to look at him and he was looking at her even more warily now than he had in response to her anger. And she had to laugh at that too.
"Thank God! You stupid, masochistic bastard," she said with a smile, Rudy twitching as if she'd slapped him with the expression. "You CAN do something right." Gwen...was alive! Finding new strength and energy in that thought and even feeling a new pulse of adrenaline coursing through her, Stephanie stood fluidly and stared down at him, her face beaming like sunshine and making him wince through the bruises. "Thank you for going against your natural urge to fail and bringing her to me. As grateful as I am, this doesn't change the fact that I severely dislike you, wish to see you dead and hope that we never have to encounter each other again in the future."
She stood for a long while, silently watching him as if waiting for an answer. Rudy's head was hurting more than the beating she'd given him accounted for, but he drowzily snapped his head up at her and muttered an ambiguous "'Kay." before she seemed satisfied and turned away from him, casting him out of mind like a coat tossed aside.
"Pup! We can go now," she commanded in a pleasant yet authoritative tone, snapping her fingers once at him--Oh. He was beside her. Quick for his size, wasn't he? And she could practically feel his "tail" wagging as he stood at her side, barely containing his excitement behind a mask of pure elated joy. Stephanie was half-tempted to pat him on the head in response.
Then she was looking towards Jason and her eyes instantly glanced in Master's direction, the bright smile she was wearing growing sober as she remembered his new version of the "skip to Elmira" plan. Stephanie hesitated. She knew where Gwen probably was, based on Rudy's half-assed report to her, instantly ready to search out the infirmary somewhere in the base - that crack about the cafeteria made no sense, but then again, he was an imbecile; nothing about Rudy made sense. There was a very physical pull dragging at her body in that general direction, needing and wanting her target - Gwen was IN the same building as her! She'd be able to see her, talk to her, TOUCH her!!! And she'd never ever let go! - but she was held in place by the necessity to inform Jason of the change in plans...and the extreme lack of willingness to do so.
Master was watching. He trusted her to do this.
Silently, her hand searched out the Puppy's arm where he stood beside her, feeling a bit of courage return to her as nails bit into his forearm. "Jason," her voice wavering with the EDP monotone, the holes within the mask giving her enough room to breathe in deeply before continuing. "You're going to be staying behind to help the situation here and get Alexander moving in the right direction for Benoit to spring his trap. Your knowledge of the transfer process and availability will be crucial for everything to work. As soon as things are underway, you will join me in Elmira."
During this, she did a fairly good job of pretending to be the emotionless 'boss' that she was, but she broke briefly, letting a skittering glance at Master hold her back from making too much of a scene. "I will see you there, afterward," trying to command the universe with what was left of her crumbling will power, her eyes latched onto his and trying to silently make him understand that she didn't want this. Trying to tell him that she had faith in him to succeed. It was Alexander that she was afraid of.
Then she glanced once more at Master, hating him and adoring him in that one second, before she turned away, tugging the Puppy along with her. When they'd gotten some distance down the hall, she murmured to the Pup, "We need to stop off at the restrooms for a minute. I'm going to be ill..." He would be fine. Master promised her.
***
She did not want to wake up. There was something very pleasant about the state of unconsciousness that possessed her, numb and comforting within a fuzzy cocoon inside her head. But there was also the hint of something menacing about it, like a shadow hovering over her while she slept. Not to mention the small gulp of panic that jolted through her when at the slightest drawing away from it, the consuming cloud clung to her like restraints holding her down. Actively fighting against it now, Gwen finally realized she actually was tied down, rising from the depths to become aware of her own body again.She couldn't move. Not just the straps across her chest, arms and legs that she could feel the tense weight of, but something deeper in her limbs as she twisted her arms and shifted. Each small movement felt like an incredible chore, draining her for the few seconds she tried to press against the restrictions, her own bones feeling 10 times heavier than they normally were. And fluttering her eyes open was even more of an effort, instantly squeezing them shut against painful white light stabbing into her corneas.
Squinting, she tested her bonds again only to give up when her arms melted into the hard thing beneath her, sighing in defeat and trying to get a look at her surroundings. White walls. Sterile floors that glistened in the harsh lighting. Smooth...metallic surfaces that shined as if polished... Blinking with deliberate effort, Gwen forced her eyes to open wider to take everything in, remembering...remembering... Her head was as heavy as everything else but in her prone position she couldn't see past the mounds on her own chest, rising and falling rapidly as her breathing grew more frantic, knowing what she would find but needing to see it.
With a supreme amount of exertion, she lifted her head from the hard surface beneath her, her eyes wandering over her own body and letting out a tiny sob of distress that sounded incredibly far away in her throat. She was strapped down to a table or a cot or something. Just like David in the brief memories she'd stolen from him. And she knew where she was. Not exactly, but there was only one place she could be. Rudy. The hellish road trip. He'd been taking her to Charlton--
Someone was in the room with her. Even as she limply turned to let her eyes wander in the general direction of the presence, she was reaching out mentally to touch them, her ability acting as sluggish as the rest of her like she was tossing a piece of string and aiming blindly. God...what had he injected her with? It seemed harder to shake than the other times she'd risen from unconsciousness in the hotel that they'd stayed in...
The female Agent had noticed her as well, hair pulled neatly back into a coal black bun, her almond shaped eyes, thin arching eyebrows and slightly olive tinged skin giving her an exotic appearance, but looking incredibly understated in her white uniform with thick black stripes down the sides. She'd been standing nearby, busying herself with small tasks, organizing and cleaning things, within sight of the young woman that had been brought to her, idly worrying about her charge waking up. When Gwen had started to move and make noise, Karen came back over to the side of the cot she'd been strapped to, reaching over to a tray that Gwen could barely see from her position. But from the contact she'd established - not much, since Karen put up mental walls that kept her out of the more personal depths - she knew that the Agent meant to drug her again.
'Nuuu..." Gwen whimpered weakly, shaking her head loosely from side to side, her nose growing red from unshed tears gathering in her eyes, as the other woman brought from the tray a small cotton swab and wiped at an exposed spot on her arm. Because along with remembering where she was, Gwen also remembered why she was here. Stephanie. Rudy was bringing her to Stephanie and now that they'd arrived... She couldn't black out again! She needed to escape! But so far, opportunities were not presenting themselves and she was still too physically and mentally sluggish to do anything.
"Please..." she begged softly as Karen silently reached to the tray again, her hand returning with a tiny syringe filled with a light grey, clear liquid.
A man with dark hair and eyebrows and a blue-collar delivery man uniform stepped into the room and stopped as Karen looked up, the needle point halted an inch from Gwen's skin.
"Oh. Uh...sorry... Didn't realize anyone was in here." Dark, agitated eyes swiftly moved around the room, while he smiled uncertainly at the nonplussed female Agent. His pronunciation came out slightly off - the word "here" sounding like "he-uh" - but Gwen could not place the accent and was having trouble reaching out to him. Thankfully, Karen was fully distracted by his intrusion and set the syringe aside, turning from Gwen to address him in professional tones.
"You're one of the street level Agents aren't you?" she asked in a clipped voice. "What do you want?"
As she stood up straight and turned her willowy form to talk to him, the man's nervous gaze swept quickly over her appreciatively, noticing through her plain uniform and homely make-up the natural assets that she possessed. Gwen only knew he noticed because of the feedback she got from Karen, who instead of hauling his ass out of there right away, responded with restrained curiosity - she knew what that haunted look in his eyes meant, but...he was kind of cute. After a bit of fumbling with her focus and pushing herself to concentrate, Gwen was finally able to reach out to him too, finding him a lot more open than Karen was.
"Well...I..uh..." Todd was searching for something to say, other than the truth, because this gal was obviously higher level than him and would probably write him up for venturing into this section of the building without clearance. He and the other guys who'd come with the delivery truck were supposed to be outta here already, but the trip back down to Mass. was gonna be hell if he didn't...stock up first. "I was here droppin' offa body and uh...one a' the guys hurt himself. Thought I'd run up here and see if I couldn't find any pills or somethin' to shut 'im up before we hit the road."
Comprehension dawned in Karen's face but she did not for a second believe the story he was spouting - and it had very little to do with the strained look in his eyes or the edgy pauses as he tried to come up with the lie right in front of her. She was done being entertained. "You're not authorized to be here and you need to leave before I call security to escort you from the building," she said coldly, setting her shoulders back in an authoritative posture. As an A-8 she wasn't very high on the foodchain but she was definitely higher than this scumbag.
Todd cracked a weaselly smile at that, obviously trying to recover the good will that had possessed her a moment before. "Come awn, help a guy out? Just a bottle or two of Agency pain killers - it doesn't need to be reported where they went, 'cause I doubt anybody'll miss 'em."
"I'm sure your 'friend' will be fine taking something over the counter from Rite Aid," Karen responded with a slight mocking inflection in her voice. "Besides, that's against the rules." She turned away from him to superficially adjust the things on the tray by Gwen's cot pretending to ignore him, but she was still listening.
"Yeah..." he said with a lazy grin by the doorway. "Anythin' else goin' on down here that's against the rules?"
Karen wanted to balk at the implication and to blush about the tone that had entered his voice, to deny him what he was asking her to do - and how dare he even ask! - but right then she'd locked gazes with Gwen, who's blue eyes seemed to glow an unnatural cerulean color making her thoughts about rules and such seem to sink further and further away.
"No, you have to leave--" Karen started to say, before breaking in the middle of her sentence and looking at him oddly. Then her eyes glanced at one of the clear glass and metal framed cabinets against the wall that held the stuff she knew he wanted. Biting her lip a little, she looked back at him. "Over there," she said with a small jerk of her head, and the surprise in his eyes melted to one of satisfaction as he glanced warily behind himself and proceeded over to that side of the room.
It had worked! In all honesty, Todd had expected the uptight bitch to toss him out with nothing, but here she was givin' in like a good gal. Ladies couldn't resist that ol' Southie charm. As he crossed the room to the cabinets she'd indicated, peering over his shoulder every few steps to make sure no one else had shown up at the door, Karen let a hand trail to her forehead, her eyebrows wrinkling as she frowned at the floor. She wasn't supposed to be doing this... She wasn't supposed to be allowing him access... But she was given another mental push when Todd motioned her over.
"It's locked," he said, standing with the glass paned doors open and tugging at a small metallic drawer amidst the shelves, showing her how it would not budge.
Karen hesitated a moment more but was wandering over to him, pulling a small ring of keys from her pocket - the keys themselves had no teeth but were 3 inch long, thin square-shaped rods, unseen codes burned into their metal surfaces. As she drew closer, Todd stepped a little out of her way, but caught a whiff of something soft and fragrant from her like a sucker punch to the face. Looking down at her - she wasn't short, but her head was down-turned towards the locked drawer as she searched out the appropriate key - he noticed up close the particular Persian diamond shape to her dark eyes, long lashes fluttering over high-cheekbones and...
Looking away while she worked, he sniffed and rubbed a thumb at his nose, his eyes falling on the young woman on the cot, noticing for the first time that she was strapped down. Gwen had regained enough motor control to crane her neck back to watch him from a slanted angle, and her eyes bored into his as well as she probed and poked feebly at his mind.
"Wazzat?" he asked with a small nod in Gwen's direction.
Karen glanced at what he was talking about, her head turning and shaking loose a strand of dark hair to drape along the side of her face and curl at her chin. "Classified. Don't worry about it," she said casually, turning back to the cabinet and inserting the right key, the lock releasing a series of high, metallic "pings" and "clicks".
Swallowing thickly, she tugged the drawer open and motioned at it, but he was still looking thoughtfully at the girl on the table and had to be nudged before he was aware she'd finally opened it. Instead of walking away and going back to work, she felt a slight pressure to remain where she was and stayed nearby as he looked through the drawer of restricted medications for what he wanted.
There was something Karen Kraft was supposed to be doing... That other Agent, the one with the specialized suit had told her to be careful about something, but everytime she tried to focus on the thought, her attention was drawn back to the dark eyed delivery guy.
"So...what part of Boston are you from?" she asked casually, feeling like she suddenly really wanted to know more about him - which she DID, but the urge was so pressing and strong, seeming to cast aside the responsibilities of her station.
Looking over the different bottles and vials in the cabinet, Todd paused and a small smirk tugged at his lips to hear her question. He didn't know why but it suddenly seemed really funny, even as something else deep inside nudged at him and got him to glance at her. She was biting her lips again, her olive, golden skin now painted with a small noticeable blush and that piece of black hair still framed the side of her face... His hand, moving of it's own accord, drifted up to gently tuck it behind her ear - and surprisingly, she allowed him to do it - their eyes meeting as he said in a low teasing voice, "That's classified."
There was a whirlwind of sudden movement and a rush of hormones clashing between them and the two Agents were pressed lips to lip, the drugs in his hand forgotten and dropped as arms like snakes coiled around eachother frantically. Heated breathing accompanied the sound of other things on other shelves being disturbed as the two haphazardly and blindly danced about in an attempt to find purchase or leverage...or something to better facilitate getting at each other.
Gwen lay where she was, staring silently, her breathing calming as she clung to the two threads of suggestion that grew stronger by the minute, buying herself enough time to build up her strength and lift from the fog that still swam at the edges of her mind. And...for the time being she couldn't help but feel a little proud of what she'd set into motion - not just the fact that her powers were growing, but also...she was not just a fantasy-romance novelist but had become an actual orchestrator of such in real life. Maybe...if she escaped from this hell...she could drop the whole 'writing" thing and become a match-maker?
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Tartra Mon Feb 07, 2011 5:49 am
It was really hard to be a good friend when he was so completely, totally, absolutely omega excited, but Gary was trying his hardest. When Stephanie asked to go to the ladies’ room, he’d almost – well, he’d wanted to – picked her up and ran her over there, ‘cause if she needed help and he was the only one she trusted enough to ask – awesome! – then he sure as heck wasn’t letting her down. He’d given her his entire arm to hang onto and gently walked her out of the pantry – ‘cause it was a room full of jars, and he bet Didi would’ve gotten a kick out of that ‘cause she always kept tons of jars in their pantry – and into the hall, hoping he remembered enough about this place to find the bathroom fast enough. But as honoured and giddy as he was to be getting her to where she wanted, following her orders like he, Gary Sanders, was actually on a field team instead of stuck behind a computer at base all day, he felt pretty bad for Jason.
Poor kid. Gary had never seen him looked so messed up and what’d happened back hadn’t helped out at all. Unless it meant it’d helped out by making him worse, ‘cause in that case, it’d definitely lent a huge hand. Jason’d never been a jock-y, muscly type – until the little Agent showed up, Jason hadn’t just been an ant next to Eric, but to the three dudes floating in those stasis cells too, with special mention for the guy in the middle – but he’d been way sicker when Gary’d first shown up and given him a hug. Suit withdrawal was a hard thing to handle, but he’d been taking it incredibly well, even if he didn’t count the kid still actually having it on. When he and the little Agent popped up, Jason was even better. He’d been hiding a tiny grin Gary figured out was meant for the fight that broke out, so obviously those two weren’t friends – Gary would’ve known anyway – and Jason was banking on Stephanie dishing out a bit of payback, but that grin slipped off half a second after she threw that first punch.
Man, what a crazy fight! It was so cool – Stephanie was all like, ‘I want my target, bitch,’ and the little guy was all, ‘You can’t have her, ha, ha, ha’, and Steph was like, ‘O RLY?’ and practically put her elbow down the little guy’s throat! And then everything that happened after – geez, he wished he’d recorded it or something! How bad did it suck that the only room in this place without cameras was the one where all the good stuff happened? Oh, right, right – Jason. No, he was being serious about it. Gary was worried. On top of not being a giant, Jason never bought into the whole ‘we’re Agents and we like blood so GARRRRRR give me blood!’ stuff. He didn’t kill people, he didn’t really fight people even though he was trained – and from what Gary heard, when he’d gone up against Alexander, he’d sort’f had his ass handed to him – and he’d been happy to get involved with this even if he didn’t believe in it ‘cause, no matter what happened, his involvement began and ended at find-and-recover, which they’d had a really deep conversation about that didn’t really relate to what was going on this second so maybe Gary shouldn’t be thinking about it right now so he stopped and went back to was important, so it all boiled down to Jason going from ‘my boss is definitely going to kick his butt’ to ‘oh shit, my boss is kicking his butt and possibly committing homicide’. That part, Gary understood. It was every other face Jason was making that was freaking him out.
“Bathroom! Finally!” A dinky sign pointed at a door. He brought Stephanie up to it, then stopped. “Uh... so... I’ll just out here for you.”
He had to give her privacy, right?
Gary waited smartly outside the door – shoulders back, up straight, exactly like any A-10 even half as cool as him would’ve done – and tried to remember what he’d been thinking about a second ago. Jason! Right! Sorry – just... Stephanie was super distracting in the ‘I AM AN A-3 AND I CAN KICK ASS WITH MY MIGHTY FISTS OF RAGE’. But anyway – Jason had not been happy during that. He’d been a statue where he was and perfectly silent, and when Gary and Eric were watching the incredible show in front of them, he’d sort of stopped watching and stared at Stephanie instead. Just Stephanie. And whatever he’d been seeing, it must not have been good. What was interesting about it was that it wasn’t good in am ‘I’m extremely concerned about you as a person’.
Awwwwwwwww! It was wuv! Which didn’t explain why Jason was nowhere to be found now, but still – awwwwwww! His anniversary was gonna have to be a double-date, and if Jason tried to smack him for asking, Gary was just gonna tease him about it until that smack turned into a punch.
Did that mean something was wrong with Stephanie, though? It seemed like, ‘cause Jason didn’t pull that face unless he meant it. Should he be asking her if she wanted something else? If she was sick – like, more than just ‘I need to puke’ sick – then he should try bringing her to a doctor or something. There should be one around here, somewhere. ‘Course, even if he didn’t, anything else that was going on would have to wait until after she was finished in there. Okay. He’d wait, just like he’d promised.
He hoped Jason showed up soon. Gary wasn’t cut out for this level of fun.
Xander was getting restless. Alex decided to ignore it, fully aware that he only had about four minutes before the guy forced him to pay attention to whatever he antsy about. In the meantime, he gave a polite nod of his head and told her, “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”
You’re gonna have to with the way this was going. Pull over.
“What?”
Pull over, he said.
“... Why?”
“You’d be amazed at the people they put in charge,” Xander said. “And I hate to say it, Sparky, but you’d fit in. You’d get your own team of psychonauts in less than a week. Pull over.”
It was unnerving because it was true. Osono was right up the Agency’s alley when it came to handling a situation. She would’ve gotten a medal for jumping to setting the Agent in the trunk on fire if she hadn’t fallen for the charade, and since that kind of threat loosely translated to ‘you have irked my patience and I am moderately annoyed, though you remain in my good graces so be happy I’m not actually angry’, she could probably get an entire group under control with the threat of her fire alone. If she could keep it up, they might be able to raise a small army.
Please tell me you donn’t think fighting Agents with more Agents is even close to a legitimate idea.
“It only counts if I say it out loud,” Alex muttered.
Really? ‘Cause just I said ‘pull over’ – like – two seconds ago and I can’t help but notice how not-pulled over we are. Xander immediately began taking over. Now I’ve gotta waste all the energy I’ve been building up ‘cause you can’t handle your body parts. And out loud, he added, “Don’t pull over. I’m gonna open the trunk from in here.”
Why the hell was he opening the trunk?
‘Cause that’s where the Agent is.
Yes! That’s where the Agent was! Good going, Xander!
“That’s why you shouldn’t be opening it,” he said. “She could be awake.”
Is this the ‘no shit’ game? I love the ‘no shit’ game. He’d pulled the foot under his control, but only part of the way. The rest of the pain was something Alex had to manage on his own, which he did, hardly wincing at all, but Xander was using it as a cattle prod to get him to turn around and paw at small button that’d flip his seat down. T-minus ten seconds until Alex was contorted into a shape he would’ve never been able to get into on his own. If she’s awake, I'll fix it, obviously, but I doubt she is. Your powers are the one thing you’re good for, so try to have some faith in ‘em.
“Osono, don’t mind me, okay? I’m just being crazy and opening the trunk to check on the Agent.” Or something. “... I’ll get back to you on ‘why’ later.”
She’s got something I want, Xander said.
“The codes?”
Better.
“Yeah, because more suspense is exactly what I need,” Alex snapped. “Maybe we should pull over.”
Too late! Xander had the back of the seat unlocked, having already turned around and pushed as far into the glove department as he could to make room. Now in the single worst position a cop could possibly find them in, he bent over the half-down seat and slithered on top of it, hooking a hand onto one side of the trunk and shoving the other on the back of Osono’s seat to help out. So he did it. Hooray. The seat had been folded down and he was the king of that tiny castle. She still in there?
“Would she have really jumped out?”
Possibly.
As in ‘she would if she had the chance’.
“Let me rephrase that,” Alex said. “Would she have really jumped out without you knowing and going after her?”
Fair enough. Xander stuck his hand into the darkness. Thanks to the way everything was angled, the only thing Alex could see was shadows. If the Agent was awake, he hoped she wasn’t a cannibal, because he’d seen this sort of thing in movies a hundred times and would prefer if his hand wasn’t ripped off as a snack. Here she is.
“Awake?”
I’ve got my finger in her ear, so if she is, she’s got a pretty awesome fetish. Agents were gross. Ex-Agents were doubly gross. She’s out. I’m going in.
“To do what?”
To find a cellphone if I’m lucky. To find a working cellphone if I’m very lucky. He crawled in far enough to stick his head inside the trunk. Alex couldn’t see anymore, except for everything that wasn’t in here – a bit of the car door, some of the window, a sliver of the windshield – and the thinnest outline of their captive, so he left it up to Xander to go rooting around in whatever pocket he came up with. With all the crap they made us do for this stupid job, phones better have an upgrade to waterproof by now.
“Do you think you can call Rudy?” Except... hadn’t Osono stomped on that? “Do you have some sort of contact or –”
I’m calling Peter.
Alex had to stop getting surprised about the stuff Xander said he was going to do so shortly after he said it. It left him no room to be more surprised when he said something worse later.
“This might be a silly question,” he said, “but could you kindly explain why the fuck would you try to call Peter?”
Because I need to talk to him.
Dark. Out of nowhere, his voice had turned dark. Alex backed off like he always did when Xander used his flat and half-dead anti-Peter voice. Normally it just disturbed him, but right then, it brought a bit of comfort. So this was not something Xander wanted to do for the hell of it. He had a reason this time, even if he was taking forever to share it. Alex kept quiet as the guy shuffled his arms in the darkness, listening as the quick sound of a zipper being opened and closed rang out every so often. After about five minutes, he was coming out of the trunk and clutching a thin, black, shiny cellphone in his right hand that he juggled around while doing the opposite of what he’d done before to get back into his seat. He plopped down with a happy sigh, pleased with himself, grinning at Osono and then at the phone before giving up nearly all his control. The weight of the pain flooding through him again knocked every ounce of breath out of his lungs, but unfortunately, it was only a touch beyond the level it’d been at before Xander had scooped it up to scavenge their prisoner. Forty-one? Forty-two?
Fifty. Fifty? See? Jumping in’s not that bad.
He very strongly disagreed. His foot throbbed angrily and it soared all the way up to his chest.
“Does the phone work?”
You sound like you don’t want it to.
“I don’t. Not really.” Should he bother asking again? “... Why are you doing this?”
Because Osono brought up a very valid point. ... Which would be...? The look the Agent in the trunk gave her.
... That? That meant something? It’d just been about how screwed up the Agency was. What did it have to do with Peter? Well – exclusively with Peter, because he was as messed up as any of them.
“If you’re going to explain, can you do it out loud so I don’t have to translate and have you laugh at me when I get stuff wrong?”
Fifty-two. Pause. Fine.
“I’m calling a guy named Peter,” Xander said. His voice had gone from bittersweet to stiff and slightly set to murder-mode. “He’s an Agent, he’s a fucktard and I hate him.” He didn’t like the way that’d sounded, because he threw in another and more spirited, “Hate him.” To put it mildly. “He’s always had a team to push around, but I didn’t think he’d actually have two minions who wore a suit. That fading, quasi-invisibility crap is high-tech shit and I want to know what the fuck he’s being doing to get those.”
He was running his fingers down the length of the phone’s side, feeling for any switch to let him turn the thing on. He found it eventually. The screen lit up in a brilliant cascade of colours, and at the bottom right-hand corner of it, Alex saw the same symbol he seemed to trip over whenever Agents were around. It was their logo. That seemed to make this worse.
“There might be a password on it,” he pointed out.
Knowing him, it’s something retarded like ‘buzz, buzz’. The phone finished loading. It’d been waterproof after all, and just as Alex suspected, there was a prompt for a password. Ooh – touchscreen. Someone’s too good for buttons. He went back to explaining. “Basically, I’m calling the jerkoff ‘cause I want to know how much of his filthy fucking hands he has in this right now. Everything changes depending on where he is.”
“He’s not going to tell you –”
“He will. Trust me on that. And trust that what I’m doing is not a huge mistake.” Did Alex have a chance at stopping him if it was? “That girl did not ask a single question when I heavily implied I was her boss. That was fear in her eyes, and that level of unquestioning obedience – while expected of everyone – is only as automatic is that if they’re fresh out of training. He’s using new people and that means he’s actively running the show.”
“But we have to call him? We can’t just assume the worst?”
“The worst is way more than what we can handle, because the worst is him sitting at a desk in... wherever his main base is.”
Xander was typing away on the keyboard. Unlike Gwen, he didn’t care about how many tries he got. He was going at this through brute force – and the phone was letting him. Great security, guys. It was even better than letting them waltz up the hill and into the place at Elmira.
“We don’t want him at a desk?”
“One way or another, he’s going to be able to call in reinforcements. One way or another, there’s going to be a delay in them showing up. One way or another, he’s going to avoid the fight completely, but the problem with having him at a desk is that we won’t have the luxury of our kicking their collective ass serving as a distraction. If he’s at a desk, he’s calm, collected, not in a grave and that’s the last thing anyone wants.”
Alex tried going over that.
“Okay. So you’re gonna ask him...?”
“Where he is, what he’s up to, how the fuck is he still alive... Y’know – the natural points of conversation,” Xander said. “Got the password.”
“What was it?”
“Buzzbuzz.”
“Peter’s stupid.”
“Yup.” At last, Xander was scrolling through a contact list. There were a sizeable number of names in there, but unsurprisingly, no one named ‘Peter’. What now? “We call the one named ‘Lead’.” Xander let a finger hover over the name, stopping only because he wanted to look Osono in the eye. “So. Any questions, or can I do this?”
“I really should’ve recorded that. I feel like I wasted such a rare opportunity,” Eric said. “Maybe I can get ‘em to fight again later.”
What the hell had happened...?
“She...” It didn’t make sense. “I didn’t hear her properly. That... What she said – I... must’ve hallucinated...”
“Withdrawal from the suit?”
No.
“No, just...” Jason ran his hand through his hair. A strand got caught on his glove, and the quick jolt through his body almost underlined exactly what the problem was. She was leaving him behind. Behind. “I heard her wrong.”
“Maybe. I’ve gotta make a call,” Eric said. “I get twitchy when I don’t hear from Nathan in a while, especially considering what’s been happening with him.” He got his flip-phone out of his pocket. The thing was slim in anyone’s hands, but in his – the Flunky’s old ones – the thin strip of technology was almost lost. “Mind staying?”
Jason slowly lifted his up to face the man. His mind felt slow and heavy. Nothing anyone was saying was making a lot of sense. Why was he like this?
“Stay?”
“Yeah. Stay. I’m a people-person and that means I need people around,” Eric said. “Since Benny’s gone sulking, I’m adopting you. For now.”
Stay. She’d told him to stay. It didn’t make sense. And it shouldn’t have gripped him as hard as it did. He should have felt a huge leap of exhilaration the moment she’d said those words, but the only reaction he’d given her was a mute nod out of reflex. Hadn’t he tried to quit her team entirely before? Hadn’t he been going nuts trying to get away from her this entire time? This should’ve been a vacation – he should have wanted this order, or at least accepted that, because it came from his lead, he was meant to follow through with it. This didn’t make sense...
“Eric,” he let out slowly. “How long have I been standing here?”
The A-1 checked his watch.
“Twelve minutes. Kind’f creepy.”
That was twelve minutes she’d had to get as far away from him as she could. But... he didn’t get it. She’d said she needed him around and he’d told her he’d be with her on this until the end. But maybe that wasn’t the part he should be concerned about. For the hundredth time, this case had brought out a new first for him: he was strongly considering going against a direct order.
“I have to talk to her,” he said. “I have to ask her why.”
“‘Cause you’re the best man for the job,” Eric answered. “Plus, she said so.”
Yes! Exactly! His mind kept coming back to that. Orders were orders. It was her job to come up with the plan and his job to follow the instructions.
... He couldn’t. She’d told him...
“I’m going to talk to her.”
“I wouldn’t,” Eric said. “She seemed kind’f worn out by all this.”
“And I’m the reason for it,” Jason told him. “I brought Quin up here for some... stupid ‘shut your face’ fight. Did you see her? I can’t let her go off on her own like that!”
Eric raised an eyebrow. If Jason didn’t know any better, he’d’ve sworn the man had backed away, too.
“You realize this is Stephanie March we’re talking about, right? The A-3? Soon to be A-2, as I promised.”
Yes. Yes, yes, yes – he realized that, he realized all of that, and common sense was telling him that because he realized that, he shouldn’t be acting like this. Orders were orders, Jason. It was how he’d gotten his perfect record in the first place.
“... I have to talk to her.”
The A-1 was almost surprised, but he shook it off with a pleasant smile and a harmless shrug.
“Go talk to her, then.” He would! “Your funeral.”
“I’m sorry?”
“No, no. Tell her that.” He pointed to the hall and shrugged again. “I know what you mean. As fantastic as Stephanie is at her job, this might not have left the best lasting effect on her. There’s almost a guaranteed chance she’s going to kick your ass if you go up to her now. You’d be better off letting her cool down and meet up with her at Elmira.”
Sure. That, he could understand. Even if she wasn’t fully ‘in’ on why he’d brought Quin up here to play stupid games and drop the news on her exactly like he didn’t want to have happen, she wasn’t stupid. She would’ve at least been able to say that it was his job as her subordinate to filter out anyone who wanted to meet her but failed to contribute anything worthwhile to her work. His foresight should have picked up on this going too far. He should be grateful she hadn’t broken his neck to put him back in line. And she would, if she wanted to. On the plane, she’d been a step away from stabbing her hand through his neck.
... And on the plane, she’d said she needed him.
“I should apologize.”
“I don’t recommend it.”
“But I have to go with her!”
“You will,” Eric said, “when you’re done here.”
“She needs me to help her on her case,” Jason insisted. “She has to transfer into her target, doesn’t she? I can do that!”
“So can the techs in Elmira.” Eric was playing with his phone. “So can that Gary guy, from what he says.”
Gary!
“He can run the transfer in my place.” It was the trick of the light, because there was no way the A-1 had rolled his eyes at him. “Or – there should be techs here, too!”
“On vacation,” Eric said. “And Gary has a wife, Jay-jay. You want to put a married man in harm’s way? He’s not even trained in combat.”
“And I’m better? Alexander fought me twice and he won both times –”
“And now you know what to expect, thereby giving you an advantage based on your advanced interactions. Keep in mind you fought him twice and lived. No one else has done that, not except Benoit. You should be proud.” Eric gave him a pat on the shoulder and then immediately went back to toying around on his phone. He was... texting someone or... or emailing them. Something that involved typing. He was pressing buttons faster than Jason had known was possible on top of it, too. “Keeping you here is the smartest decision she could have made because it means she’s putting the most capable person in the right spot.”
That was true. If Alexander decided to attack, Gary would be ripped to shreds. He couldn’t do that to Diana. Somehow, it felt even more wrong with their anniversary around the bend. But...
“Benoit called ahead.” Yes, Eric had rolled his eyes. He did again when he had to look up from his small screen for the umpteenth time. The blue light bounced off his glasses but the words weren’t clear enough to read. Whatever it said, Eric was impatient to get back to it. “If he called ahead and asked for a stasis cell to be transferred here with the intent to perform a transfer – maybe not complete it, but start it – then he should have had someone standing by –”
“When did he make the call?”
Jason thought about it. Days ago, months ago, decades ago – time had been blending together for him.
“He called on day two,” he decided.
“Back when Jean was alive?”
“Yes.”
“Then if both technicians – and there’s only two listed here because how many transfers are done in this gefängnis – that’s German for ‘prison’! – when you’re better off doing it in Elmira – are on vacation, it means he didn’t bother reserving one of them and that means he had someone else lined up.” Eric gave him the look of a quizmaster. “Jean, maybe?”
Ha! The Flunky? He was muscle, nothing more!
“I hardly think –”
“Did you ask him?”
“No...” Come on. Did he have to? The way everything had happened – the way the plan was formed – there was no way the Flunky had ‘secretly known’ how to manage a transfer. “If he had known, Benoit would have called again after Jean’s death.”
“Mm-hmm. Because he’s been thinking greeaaaaat ever since then, right?” He chuckled and kept typing. “You missed the warm-up show before the March-versus-Quin spectacle. Who knew he’d take one death so personally?”
Reason after reason after reason. It was so easy for Eric to come up with them because he was completely right. Jason had to keep digging for ways to come up with something to protest with. That should’ve been the sign he was looking for to stop fighting and accept his new role. He was meant to stay here. Yes, it was risky, but it was what Stephanie wanted.
“... She said she needed me.” His words fell out and hung in the air. They felt cold and lifeless as he stared at them. He was being stupid. He knew he was being stupid. “She said she wanted me to be there for her, with her, when at the end of this.”
And Eric did not look up. Until the instant he spoke, Jason wondered if he’d even heard.
“When did she say that?”
“Huh?”
“That she needed you.” Tap, tap, tap on his phone. “When’d she say it?”
It sounded nearly clinical when it was from Eric. Merry though it was, it was raw and unfamiliar. When she’d said it, it’d meant something. Now, he wasn’t sure.
“A few times over the course of this mission,” Jason said. “In the plane, in the car –”
“Before your little make-out session by the cells?”
What –
“You know about that?”
“I’m an A-1, Jay-Jay,” Eric laughed. “It’s my job to know everything. And it’s my job to speculate on anything I don’t know. If she went from mauling your mouth every ten seconds to suddenly and – I cannot stress this enough, because you seem to be missing this modifier – temporarily leaving you behind, maybe something happened that cooled her off.”
“What? What happened?”
Snap.
Eric’s phone had closed.
He left it in his palm and cloaked his hand around it. His fingers cradled the device lovingly, but Jason couldn’t help realize that he was poised to crush it whenever the mood hit. The blue light on his glasses was gone. What was left was the quickly overwhelming red from the stasis cells behind him. It outlined his body in the softest way it could, shadowing every feature not immediately claimed by its glow. The smile hadn’t left his lips, but it seemed sombre now. Sympathetic. Then he suddenly shrugged and jammed his phone back into his pocket, turning as if ready to go but without the slightest hint of truly meaning to.
“I dunno, Jason,” Eric said. “Maybe she wants to get away from you.”
That was not the answer Jason wanted to hear.
“What do you mean ‘get away’? I’m on her team,” he said.
“Yeah. You’re on her team,” the man agreed. “That’s why she’s giving you orders. But maybe she needs a break.”
“‘Break’?”
“She was having a blast screwing around with you,” Eric said. “Hey – I would’ve put a stop to it if it was really anything major –” Jason doubted that, because everyone seemed to get a kick out of it. “– but she thought it was a good game. Then, after a while, I think that playful poking around grew into something... bigger. Which I might have to actually act on at some point, but ‘out of sight, out of mind, out of my jurisdiction’.”
... This didn’t... make sense...
“You’re saying she likes me –”
“She’d better not like you. It’s against the rules. Highly inappropriate.”
“... Okay. You’re saying she’s... attached to me but... somehow...” Jason shook his head. “What?”
“I’ll put this as simply as I can,” Eric said. “She was playing around with you, and whether you wanted to or not, you were playing around with her. Then, quite recently... it stopped being a game.” Once more, he shrugged his giant shoulders. “I think she needs some time to think. This is big stuff for an Agent. I think you hand in your heart at A-4. Not that there’s any ‘heart’ stuff going around – inappropriate! Not allowed.” He smiled.
Jason didn’t know what to say. He stood there stupidly, trying to put it together.
“What should I do?”
“Let her think,” Eric said. “Let her go to Elmira, have some one-on-one time with her target, sort everything out in her head – and her new head – and then go over and get this dealt with. I think the problem’s got a lot to do with the timing of your budding not-romance-because-that’s-against-the-rules. She’s got a lot to think about as it is without something else gumming up the works.”
Jason was gumming up the works. ... He was confusing her. She was leaving him behind because... Shit. Shit. He’d fucked up. She was right to leave him here.
“Oh.”
“Hey,” Eric soothed. “Don’t beat yourself up.”
“It’s hard not to.” Almost impossible. He felt like such an idiot. “... So... I just let her go?”
“For now. I keep saying it and you keep forgetting, but it’s only for now. You’ve got some things to think about too, I bet. This is the time for that.”
Yeah. It was.
“I should talk to her. Just to say ‘good luck’. She’s my lead, after all.” And this was supposed to have been a working relationship. “I’ll – just... I’ll say ‘bye’ and then I’ll... get ready to do this Alexander thing.”
Eric nodded.
“That’s the right thing to do. Don’t linger on it – just... say it and go. Don’t give her more to think about.”
No. He wouldn’t do that to her. With a breath and a polite nod to the man – and a chipper wave goodbye from him – Jason slowly walked towards the door. He did pause briefly, however, to quickly ask, “What are you going to do with him?”
Eric glanced over at Quin, kind of bored.
“Oh, I don’t know. Everything loses its thrill when it’s already half-dead. I’ll probably just make him beg again ‘fore I crush his head with my godly fists. He’s good at it. Makes my heart flutter.”
Fine. Fuck Quin.
Jason marched out of the room and down the hall, determined to talk to her before she left.
‘Goodbye’ and get out. ‘Goodbye’ and get out. ‘Goodbye’ and then get out.
Doo-dee-doo-doo... Waitin’ outside the bathroom... Doo-doo-dee-doo... Leanin’ on the wall... Doo-dee–
Footsteps. He looked up and then down the hall. Hey, look who was walking over here at long last!
“Jason! Dude! Finally – you took your time coming over,” Gary said. “Listen – I gotta ask you about what happened.”
“Not now, Gary.”
Whoa. Talk about depressing. Jason sounded like a zombie, which fit ‘cause he was walking like one. What was up?
“You okay?”
Jason nodded. That was a lie.
“I’m okay.” Bigger lie. Gary could read this guy like a book. “Is she...?”
“Yeah! Yeah, she’s in there.” Gary gave a little knock on the door to prove his point. Then he realized that as long as he was knocking, he might as well keep knocking. “Hey! Stephanie! Jason’s out here!” And when he looked back to talk to Jason again, he got a faceful of death glare. “What?”
“Thanks, Gary. I appreciate it.”
Touchy. Probably the suit.
Jason walked up to the bathroom door and stood in front of it, like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. His eyes weren’t even on it – they were sort of on the ground, if he could look through the wood. He was like a guy on death row right now. It wasn’t right. Gary had to stop himself from saying anything because this one of those moods that he knew Jason needed silence for to think. After a good wait, he lifted his hand to knock, but that took a moment to actually happen, too. He was caught between wanting to stay and go, but he made the right choice by going through with it. Three quick knocks, one lasting longer than the rest, and then he was carefully gathering his breath to speak.
“You can just shout,” Gary told him. “If she’s not answering, she –” Death glare. “I’ll shut up.”
He looked grateful. He knocked again to be sure, but when there still wasn’t a response, he took the advice and spoke anyway.
“Stephanie –” And he abruptly stopped, only to start again the ‘proper’ way. “Boss.”
“You can call her ‘Stephanie’, you know. It’s her name –”
“Gary.”
“I’m just trying to help!”
He got ignored. Jason was hovering an inch away from the door, focused on getting out what he’d come here to say. This seemed serious. Gary wasn’t sure if he should give them time alone or not.
“I just came by to say good luck,” he said. “I – just... didn’t want you to go... without hearing that.”
His eyes were closed and his head was low. He looked tired and torn and trapped where he was. With the new silence he was sitting in, Gary got the message that that was all he was going to say, but for Jason to still be here, still in front of the door as if he was waiting for her...
“... Is that it...?”
“Yeah. That’s it,” Jason muttered. His mini-spell had been broken and he stepped away. “You’re going with her?”
“I hope so,” Gary said. “That’s it? You’re not gonna say anything else?”
“Gary...”
“No – come on! You clearly want to say something else. It’s written all of your face!” So was the death glare. “Jason, get back over there, dude!”
“Gary –”
Dumb kids! Gary grabbed Jason by the arm and pulled him back over to the door. There wasn’t a drop of resistance while he was doing it. Everyone always told him to shut up, even when he was right. Not this time! He wanted that double-date.
“So,” he prodded. “Go say something!”
On the bright side, Jason looked way less miserable standing by it again, like those two steps closer had made a difference in the end. On the other, now he was definitely caught. He was rubbing the back of his neck in that nervous way he was partly famous for. And, as usual, when he couldn’t come up with anything to say, he gave Gary another death glare. Those lost their effect after a while.
“What am I supposed to say?”
“How about ‘I’ll miss you’? That’s a good one! Ooh – or say ‘my heart will bleed without you’!”
“I’ll be gone for hours, not years,” Jason fired at him. Awwwww – he was angry because he was embarrassed! Wuvvy, wuvvy wuv! “I’m going. I said all I could.”
“Okay, fine.” Hey – get back here! This was happening! Gary had his arm again. “Then you get to sit here and wait for her to talk to you.”
“What?”
“That’s how this works! You say your thing, she says her, you finish the job, you profess your love –”
“Gary –”
“– and then you go make babies!”
“Gary!”
“I don’t make the rules, dude! This is how it happens, and you’re gonna sit here and let it happen or I’m gonna punch you in the nads!” Without another word from the unmarried one, Gary pounded on the door. This was even more exciting than the fight! He had tingles everywhere! “Stephanie! Jason wants to talk! He’s not leaving until you get out here, and this is the only way to get out of the bathroom!”
“When this is over, I’m hurting you.”
Then Gary would just have to stand at the wedding with a limp.
Poor kid. Gary had never seen him looked so messed up and what’d happened back hadn’t helped out at all. Unless it meant it’d helped out by making him worse, ‘cause in that case, it’d definitely lent a huge hand. Jason’d never been a jock-y, muscly type – until the little Agent showed up, Jason hadn’t just been an ant next to Eric, but to the three dudes floating in those stasis cells too, with special mention for the guy in the middle – but he’d been way sicker when Gary’d first shown up and given him a hug. Suit withdrawal was a hard thing to handle, but he’d been taking it incredibly well, even if he didn’t count the kid still actually having it on. When he and the little Agent popped up, Jason was even better. He’d been hiding a tiny grin Gary figured out was meant for the fight that broke out, so obviously those two weren’t friends – Gary would’ve known anyway – and Jason was banking on Stephanie dishing out a bit of payback, but that grin slipped off half a second after she threw that first punch.
Man, what a crazy fight! It was so cool – Stephanie was all like, ‘I want my target, bitch,’ and the little guy was all, ‘You can’t have her, ha, ha, ha’, and Steph was like, ‘O RLY?’ and practically put her elbow down the little guy’s throat! And then everything that happened after – geez, he wished he’d recorded it or something! How bad did it suck that the only room in this place without cameras was the one where all the good stuff happened? Oh, right, right – Jason. No, he was being serious about it. Gary was worried. On top of not being a giant, Jason never bought into the whole ‘we’re Agents and we like blood so GARRRRRR give me blood!’ stuff. He didn’t kill people, he didn’t really fight people even though he was trained – and from what Gary heard, when he’d gone up against Alexander, he’d sort’f had his ass handed to him – and he’d been happy to get involved with this even if he didn’t believe in it ‘cause, no matter what happened, his involvement began and ended at find-and-recover, which they’d had a really deep conversation about that didn’t really relate to what was going on this second so maybe Gary shouldn’t be thinking about it right now so he stopped and went back to was important, so it all boiled down to Jason going from ‘my boss is definitely going to kick his butt’ to ‘oh shit, my boss is kicking his butt and possibly committing homicide’. That part, Gary understood. It was every other face Jason was making that was freaking him out.
“Bathroom! Finally!” A dinky sign pointed at a door. He brought Stephanie up to it, then stopped. “Uh... so... I’ll just out here for you.”
He had to give her privacy, right?
Gary waited smartly outside the door – shoulders back, up straight, exactly like any A-10 even half as cool as him would’ve done – and tried to remember what he’d been thinking about a second ago. Jason! Right! Sorry – just... Stephanie was super distracting in the ‘I AM AN A-3 AND I CAN KICK ASS WITH MY MIGHTY FISTS OF RAGE’. But anyway – Jason had not been happy during that. He’d been a statue where he was and perfectly silent, and when Gary and Eric were watching the incredible show in front of them, he’d sort of stopped watching and stared at Stephanie instead. Just Stephanie. And whatever he’d been seeing, it must not have been good. What was interesting about it was that it wasn’t good in am ‘I’m extremely concerned about you as a person’.
Awwwwwwwww! It was wuv! Which didn’t explain why Jason was nowhere to be found now, but still – awwwwwww! His anniversary was gonna have to be a double-date, and if Jason tried to smack him for asking, Gary was just gonna tease him about it until that smack turned into a punch.
Did that mean something was wrong with Stephanie, though? It seemed like, ‘cause Jason didn’t pull that face unless he meant it. Should he be asking her if she wanted something else? If she was sick – like, more than just ‘I need to puke’ sick – then he should try bringing her to a doctor or something. There should be one around here, somewhere. ‘Course, even if he didn’t, anything else that was going on would have to wait until after she was finished in there. Okay. He’d wait, just like he’d promised.
He hoped Jason showed up soon. Gary wasn’t cut out for this level of fun.
* * *
Xander was getting restless. Alex decided to ignore it, fully aware that he only had about four minutes before the guy forced him to pay attention to whatever he antsy about. In the meantime, he gave a polite nod of his head and told her, “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”
You’re gonna have to with the way this was going. Pull over.
“What?”
Pull over, he said.
“... Why?”
“You’d be amazed at the people they put in charge,” Xander said. “And I hate to say it, Sparky, but you’d fit in. You’d get your own team of psychonauts in less than a week. Pull over.”
It was unnerving because it was true. Osono was right up the Agency’s alley when it came to handling a situation. She would’ve gotten a medal for jumping to setting the Agent in the trunk on fire if she hadn’t fallen for the charade, and since that kind of threat loosely translated to ‘you have irked my patience and I am moderately annoyed, though you remain in my good graces so be happy I’m not actually angry’, she could probably get an entire group under control with the threat of her fire alone. If she could keep it up, they might be able to raise a small army.
Please tell me you donn’t think fighting Agents with more Agents is even close to a legitimate idea.
“It only counts if I say it out loud,” Alex muttered.
Really? ‘Cause just I said ‘pull over’ – like – two seconds ago and I can’t help but notice how not-pulled over we are. Xander immediately began taking over. Now I’ve gotta waste all the energy I’ve been building up ‘cause you can’t handle your body parts. And out loud, he added, “Don’t pull over. I’m gonna open the trunk from in here.”
Why the hell was he opening the trunk?
‘Cause that’s where the Agent is.
Yes! That’s where the Agent was! Good going, Xander!
“That’s why you shouldn’t be opening it,” he said. “She could be awake.”
Is this the ‘no shit’ game? I love the ‘no shit’ game. He’d pulled the foot under his control, but only part of the way. The rest of the pain was something Alex had to manage on his own, which he did, hardly wincing at all, but Xander was using it as a cattle prod to get him to turn around and paw at small button that’d flip his seat down. T-minus ten seconds until Alex was contorted into a shape he would’ve never been able to get into on his own. If she’s awake, I'll fix it, obviously, but I doubt she is. Your powers are the one thing you’re good for, so try to have some faith in ‘em.
“Osono, don’t mind me, okay? I’m just being crazy and opening the trunk to check on the Agent.” Or something. “... I’ll get back to you on ‘why’ later.”
She’s got something I want, Xander said.
“The codes?”
Better.
“Yeah, because more suspense is exactly what I need,” Alex snapped. “Maybe we should pull over.”
Too late! Xander had the back of the seat unlocked, having already turned around and pushed as far into the glove department as he could to make room. Now in the single worst position a cop could possibly find them in, he bent over the half-down seat and slithered on top of it, hooking a hand onto one side of the trunk and shoving the other on the back of Osono’s seat to help out. So he did it. Hooray. The seat had been folded down and he was the king of that tiny castle. She still in there?
“Would she have really jumped out?”
Possibly.
As in ‘she would if she had the chance’.
“Let me rephrase that,” Alex said. “Would she have really jumped out without you knowing and going after her?”
Fair enough. Xander stuck his hand into the darkness. Thanks to the way everything was angled, the only thing Alex could see was shadows. If the Agent was awake, he hoped she wasn’t a cannibal, because he’d seen this sort of thing in movies a hundred times and would prefer if his hand wasn’t ripped off as a snack. Here she is.
“Awake?”
I’ve got my finger in her ear, so if she is, she’s got a pretty awesome fetish. Agents were gross. Ex-Agents were doubly gross. She’s out. I’m going in.
“To do what?”
To find a cellphone if I’m lucky. To find a working cellphone if I’m very lucky. He crawled in far enough to stick his head inside the trunk. Alex couldn’t see anymore, except for everything that wasn’t in here – a bit of the car door, some of the window, a sliver of the windshield – and the thinnest outline of their captive, so he left it up to Xander to go rooting around in whatever pocket he came up with. With all the crap they made us do for this stupid job, phones better have an upgrade to waterproof by now.
“Do you think you can call Rudy?” Except... hadn’t Osono stomped on that? “Do you have some sort of contact or –”
I’m calling Peter.
Alex had to stop getting surprised about the stuff Xander said he was going to do so shortly after he said it. It left him no room to be more surprised when he said something worse later.
“This might be a silly question,” he said, “but could you kindly explain why the fuck would you try to call Peter?”
Because I need to talk to him.
Dark. Out of nowhere, his voice had turned dark. Alex backed off like he always did when Xander used his flat and half-dead anti-Peter voice. Normally it just disturbed him, but right then, it brought a bit of comfort. So this was not something Xander wanted to do for the hell of it. He had a reason this time, even if he was taking forever to share it. Alex kept quiet as the guy shuffled his arms in the darkness, listening as the quick sound of a zipper being opened and closed rang out every so often. After about five minutes, he was coming out of the trunk and clutching a thin, black, shiny cellphone in his right hand that he juggled around while doing the opposite of what he’d done before to get back into his seat. He plopped down with a happy sigh, pleased with himself, grinning at Osono and then at the phone before giving up nearly all his control. The weight of the pain flooding through him again knocked every ounce of breath out of his lungs, but unfortunately, it was only a touch beyond the level it’d been at before Xander had scooped it up to scavenge their prisoner. Forty-one? Forty-two?
Fifty. Fifty? See? Jumping in’s not that bad.
He very strongly disagreed. His foot throbbed angrily and it soared all the way up to his chest.
“Does the phone work?”
You sound like you don’t want it to.
“I don’t. Not really.” Should he bother asking again? “... Why are you doing this?”
Because Osono brought up a very valid point. ... Which would be...? The look the Agent in the trunk gave her.
... That? That meant something? It’d just been about how screwed up the Agency was. What did it have to do with Peter? Well – exclusively with Peter, because he was as messed up as any of them.
“If you’re going to explain, can you do it out loud so I don’t have to translate and have you laugh at me when I get stuff wrong?”
Fifty-two. Pause. Fine.
“I’m calling a guy named Peter,” Xander said. His voice had gone from bittersweet to stiff and slightly set to murder-mode. “He’s an Agent, he’s a fucktard and I hate him.” He didn’t like the way that’d sounded, because he threw in another and more spirited, “Hate him.” To put it mildly. “He’s always had a team to push around, but I didn’t think he’d actually have two minions who wore a suit. That fading, quasi-invisibility crap is high-tech shit and I want to know what the fuck he’s being doing to get those.”
He was running his fingers down the length of the phone’s side, feeling for any switch to let him turn the thing on. He found it eventually. The screen lit up in a brilliant cascade of colours, and at the bottom right-hand corner of it, Alex saw the same symbol he seemed to trip over whenever Agents were around. It was their logo. That seemed to make this worse.
“There might be a password on it,” he pointed out.
Knowing him, it’s something retarded like ‘buzz, buzz’. The phone finished loading. It’d been waterproof after all, and just as Alex suspected, there was a prompt for a password. Ooh – touchscreen. Someone’s too good for buttons. He went back to explaining. “Basically, I’m calling the jerkoff ‘cause I want to know how much of his filthy fucking hands he has in this right now. Everything changes depending on where he is.”
“He’s not going to tell you –”
“He will. Trust me on that. And trust that what I’m doing is not a huge mistake.” Did Alex have a chance at stopping him if it was? “That girl did not ask a single question when I heavily implied I was her boss. That was fear in her eyes, and that level of unquestioning obedience – while expected of everyone – is only as automatic is that if they’re fresh out of training. He’s using new people and that means he’s actively running the show.”
“But we have to call him? We can’t just assume the worst?”
“The worst is way more than what we can handle, because the worst is him sitting at a desk in... wherever his main base is.”
Xander was typing away on the keyboard. Unlike Gwen, he didn’t care about how many tries he got. He was going at this through brute force – and the phone was letting him. Great security, guys. It was even better than letting them waltz up the hill and into the place at Elmira.
“We don’t want him at a desk?”
“One way or another, he’s going to be able to call in reinforcements. One way or another, there’s going to be a delay in them showing up. One way or another, he’s going to avoid the fight completely, but the problem with having him at a desk is that we won’t have the luxury of our kicking their collective ass serving as a distraction. If he’s at a desk, he’s calm, collected, not in a grave and that’s the last thing anyone wants.”
Alex tried going over that.
“Okay. So you’re gonna ask him...?”
“Where he is, what he’s up to, how the fuck is he still alive... Y’know – the natural points of conversation,” Xander said. “Got the password.”
“What was it?”
“Buzzbuzz.”
“Peter’s stupid.”
“Yup.” At last, Xander was scrolling through a contact list. There were a sizeable number of names in there, but unsurprisingly, no one named ‘Peter’. What now? “We call the one named ‘Lead’.” Xander let a finger hover over the name, stopping only because he wanted to look Osono in the eye. “So. Any questions, or can I do this?”
* * *
“I really should’ve recorded that. I feel like I wasted such a rare opportunity,” Eric said. “Maybe I can get ‘em to fight again later.”
What the hell had happened...?
“She...” It didn’t make sense. “I didn’t hear her properly. That... What she said – I... must’ve hallucinated...”
“Withdrawal from the suit?”
No.
“No, just...” Jason ran his hand through his hair. A strand got caught on his glove, and the quick jolt through his body almost underlined exactly what the problem was. She was leaving him behind. Behind. “I heard her wrong.”
“Maybe. I’ve gotta make a call,” Eric said. “I get twitchy when I don’t hear from Nathan in a while, especially considering what’s been happening with him.” He got his flip-phone out of his pocket. The thing was slim in anyone’s hands, but in his – the Flunky’s old ones – the thin strip of technology was almost lost. “Mind staying?”
Jason slowly lifted his up to face the man. His mind felt slow and heavy. Nothing anyone was saying was making a lot of sense. Why was he like this?
“Stay?”
“Yeah. Stay. I’m a people-person and that means I need people around,” Eric said. “Since Benny’s gone sulking, I’m adopting you. For now.”
Stay. She’d told him to stay. It didn’t make sense. And it shouldn’t have gripped him as hard as it did. He should have felt a huge leap of exhilaration the moment she’d said those words, but the only reaction he’d given her was a mute nod out of reflex. Hadn’t he tried to quit her team entirely before? Hadn’t he been going nuts trying to get away from her this entire time? This should’ve been a vacation – he should have wanted this order, or at least accepted that, because it came from his lead, he was meant to follow through with it. This didn’t make sense...
“Eric,” he let out slowly. “How long have I been standing here?”
The A-1 checked his watch.
“Twelve minutes. Kind’f creepy.”
That was twelve minutes she’d had to get as far away from him as she could. But... he didn’t get it. She’d said she needed him around and he’d told her he’d be with her on this until the end. But maybe that wasn’t the part he should be concerned about. For the hundredth time, this case had brought out a new first for him: he was strongly considering going against a direct order.
“I have to talk to her,” he said. “I have to ask her why.”
“‘Cause you’re the best man for the job,” Eric answered. “Plus, she said so.”
Yes! Exactly! His mind kept coming back to that. Orders were orders. It was her job to come up with the plan and his job to follow the instructions.
... He couldn’t. She’d told him...
“I’m going to talk to her.”
“I wouldn’t,” Eric said. “She seemed kind’f worn out by all this.”
“And I’m the reason for it,” Jason told him. “I brought Quin up here for some... stupid ‘shut your face’ fight. Did you see her? I can’t let her go off on her own like that!”
Eric raised an eyebrow. If Jason didn’t know any better, he’d’ve sworn the man had backed away, too.
“You realize this is Stephanie March we’re talking about, right? The A-3? Soon to be A-2, as I promised.”
Yes. Yes, yes, yes – he realized that, he realized all of that, and common sense was telling him that because he realized that, he shouldn’t be acting like this. Orders were orders, Jason. It was how he’d gotten his perfect record in the first place.
“... I have to talk to her.”
The A-1 was almost surprised, but he shook it off with a pleasant smile and a harmless shrug.
“Go talk to her, then.” He would! “Your funeral.”
“I’m sorry?”
“No, no. Tell her that.” He pointed to the hall and shrugged again. “I know what you mean. As fantastic as Stephanie is at her job, this might not have left the best lasting effect on her. There’s almost a guaranteed chance she’s going to kick your ass if you go up to her now. You’d be better off letting her cool down and meet up with her at Elmira.”
Sure. That, he could understand. Even if she wasn’t fully ‘in’ on why he’d brought Quin up here to play stupid games and drop the news on her exactly like he didn’t want to have happen, she wasn’t stupid. She would’ve at least been able to say that it was his job as her subordinate to filter out anyone who wanted to meet her but failed to contribute anything worthwhile to her work. His foresight should have picked up on this going too far. He should be grateful she hadn’t broken his neck to put him back in line. And she would, if she wanted to. On the plane, she’d been a step away from stabbing her hand through his neck.
... And on the plane, she’d said she needed him.
“I should apologize.”
“I don’t recommend it.”
“But I have to go with her!”
“You will,” Eric said, “when you’re done here.”
“She needs me to help her on her case,” Jason insisted. “She has to transfer into her target, doesn’t she? I can do that!”
“So can the techs in Elmira.” Eric was playing with his phone. “So can that Gary guy, from what he says.”
Gary!
“He can run the transfer in my place.” It was the trick of the light, because there was no way the A-1 had rolled his eyes at him. “Or – there should be techs here, too!”
“On vacation,” Eric said. “And Gary has a wife, Jay-jay. You want to put a married man in harm’s way? He’s not even trained in combat.”
“And I’m better? Alexander fought me twice and he won both times –”
“And now you know what to expect, thereby giving you an advantage based on your advanced interactions. Keep in mind you fought him twice and lived. No one else has done that, not except Benoit. You should be proud.” Eric gave him a pat on the shoulder and then immediately went back to toying around on his phone. He was... texting someone or... or emailing them. Something that involved typing. He was pressing buttons faster than Jason had known was possible on top of it, too. “Keeping you here is the smartest decision she could have made because it means she’s putting the most capable person in the right spot.”
That was true. If Alexander decided to attack, Gary would be ripped to shreds. He couldn’t do that to Diana. Somehow, it felt even more wrong with their anniversary around the bend. But...
“Benoit called ahead.” Yes, Eric had rolled his eyes. He did again when he had to look up from his small screen for the umpteenth time. The blue light bounced off his glasses but the words weren’t clear enough to read. Whatever it said, Eric was impatient to get back to it. “If he called ahead and asked for a stasis cell to be transferred here with the intent to perform a transfer – maybe not complete it, but start it – then he should have had someone standing by –”
“When did he make the call?”
Jason thought about it. Days ago, months ago, decades ago – time had been blending together for him.
“He called on day two,” he decided.
“Back when Jean was alive?”
“Yes.”
“Then if both technicians – and there’s only two listed here because how many transfers are done in this gefängnis – that’s German for ‘prison’! – when you’re better off doing it in Elmira – are on vacation, it means he didn’t bother reserving one of them and that means he had someone else lined up.” Eric gave him the look of a quizmaster. “Jean, maybe?”
Ha! The Flunky? He was muscle, nothing more!
“I hardly think –”
“Did you ask him?”
“No...” Come on. Did he have to? The way everything had happened – the way the plan was formed – there was no way the Flunky had ‘secretly known’ how to manage a transfer. “If he had known, Benoit would have called again after Jean’s death.”
“Mm-hmm. Because he’s been thinking greeaaaaat ever since then, right?” He chuckled and kept typing. “You missed the warm-up show before the March-versus-Quin spectacle. Who knew he’d take one death so personally?”
Reason after reason after reason. It was so easy for Eric to come up with them because he was completely right. Jason had to keep digging for ways to come up with something to protest with. That should’ve been the sign he was looking for to stop fighting and accept his new role. He was meant to stay here. Yes, it was risky, but it was what Stephanie wanted.
“... She said she needed me.” His words fell out and hung in the air. They felt cold and lifeless as he stared at them. He was being stupid. He knew he was being stupid. “She said she wanted me to be there for her, with her, when at the end of this.”
And Eric did not look up. Until the instant he spoke, Jason wondered if he’d even heard.
“When did she say that?”
“Huh?”
“That she needed you.” Tap, tap, tap on his phone. “When’d she say it?”
It sounded nearly clinical when it was from Eric. Merry though it was, it was raw and unfamiliar. When she’d said it, it’d meant something. Now, he wasn’t sure.
“A few times over the course of this mission,” Jason said. “In the plane, in the car –”
“Before your little make-out session by the cells?”
What –
“You know about that?”
“I’m an A-1, Jay-Jay,” Eric laughed. “It’s my job to know everything. And it’s my job to speculate on anything I don’t know. If she went from mauling your mouth every ten seconds to suddenly and – I cannot stress this enough, because you seem to be missing this modifier – temporarily leaving you behind, maybe something happened that cooled her off.”
“What? What happened?”
Snap.
Eric’s phone had closed.
He left it in his palm and cloaked his hand around it. His fingers cradled the device lovingly, but Jason couldn’t help realize that he was poised to crush it whenever the mood hit. The blue light on his glasses was gone. What was left was the quickly overwhelming red from the stasis cells behind him. It outlined his body in the softest way it could, shadowing every feature not immediately claimed by its glow. The smile hadn’t left his lips, but it seemed sombre now. Sympathetic. Then he suddenly shrugged and jammed his phone back into his pocket, turning as if ready to go but without the slightest hint of truly meaning to.
“I dunno, Jason,” Eric said. “Maybe she wants to get away from you.”
That was not the answer Jason wanted to hear.
“What do you mean ‘get away’? I’m on her team,” he said.
“Yeah. You’re on her team,” the man agreed. “That’s why she’s giving you orders. But maybe she needs a break.”
“‘Break’?”
“She was having a blast screwing around with you,” Eric said. “Hey – I would’ve put a stop to it if it was really anything major –” Jason doubted that, because everyone seemed to get a kick out of it. “– but she thought it was a good game. Then, after a while, I think that playful poking around grew into something... bigger. Which I might have to actually act on at some point, but ‘out of sight, out of mind, out of my jurisdiction’.”
... This didn’t... make sense...
“You’re saying she likes me –”
“She’d better not like you. It’s against the rules. Highly inappropriate.”
“... Okay. You’re saying she’s... attached to me but... somehow...” Jason shook his head. “What?”
“I’ll put this as simply as I can,” Eric said. “She was playing around with you, and whether you wanted to or not, you were playing around with her. Then, quite recently... it stopped being a game.” Once more, he shrugged his giant shoulders. “I think she needs some time to think. This is big stuff for an Agent. I think you hand in your heart at A-4. Not that there’s any ‘heart’ stuff going around – inappropriate! Not allowed.” He smiled.
Jason didn’t know what to say. He stood there stupidly, trying to put it together.
“What should I do?”
“Let her think,” Eric said. “Let her go to Elmira, have some one-on-one time with her target, sort everything out in her head – and her new head – and then go over and get this dealt with. I think the problem’s got a lot to do with the timing of your budding not-romance-because-that’s-against-the-rules. She’s got a lot to think about as it is without something else gumming up the works.”
Jason was gumming up the works. ... He was confusing her. She was leaving him behind because... Shit. Shit. He’d fucked up. She was right to leave him here.
“Oh.”
“Hey,” Eric soothed. “Don’t beat yourself up.”
“It’s hard not to.” Almost impossible. He felt like such an idiot. “... So... I just let her go?”
“For now. I keep saying it and you keep forgetting, but it’s only for now. You’ve got some things to think about too, I bet. This is the time for that.”
Yeah. It was.
“I should talk to her. Just to say ‘good luck’. She’s my lead, after all.” And this was supposed to have been a working relationship. “I’ll – just... I’ll say ‘bye’ and then I’ll... get ready to do this Alexander thing.”
Eric nodded.
“That’s the right thing to do. Don’t linger on it – just... say it and go. Don’t give her more to think about.”
No. He wouldn’t do that to her. With a breath and a polite nod to the man – and a chipper wave goodbye from him – Jason slowly walked towards the door. He did pause briefly, however, to quickly ask, “What are you going to do with him?”
Eric glanced over at Quin, kind of bored.
“Oh, I don’t know. Everything loses its thrill when it’s already half-dead. I’ll probably just make him beg again ‘fore I crush his head with my godly fists. He’s good at it. Makes my heart flutter.”
Fine. Fuck Quin.
Jason marched out of the room and down the hall, determined to talk to her before she left.
‘Goodbye’ and get out. ‘Goodbye’ and get out. ‘Goodbye’ and then get out.
* * *
Doo-dee-doo-doo... Waitin’ outside the bathroom... Doo-doo-dee-doo... Leanin’ on the wall... Doo-dee–
Footsteps. He looked up and then down the hall. Hey, look who was walking over here at long last!
“Jason! Dude! Finally – you took your time coming over,” Gary said. “Listen – I gotta ask you about what happened.”
“Not now, Gary.”
Whoa. Talk about depressing. Jason sounded like a zombie, which fit ‘cause he was walking like one. What was up?
“You okay?”
Jason nodded. That was a lie.
“I’m okay.” Bigger lie. Gary could read this guy like a book. “Is she...?”
“Yeah! Yeah, she’s in there.” Gary gave a little knock on the door to prove his point. Then he realized that as long as he was knocking, he might as well keep knocking. “Hey! Stephanie! Jason’s out here!” And when he looked back to talk to Jason again, he got a faceful of death glare. “What?”
“Thanks, Gary. I appreciate it.”
Touchy. Probably the suit.
Jason walked up to the bathroom door and stood in front of it, like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. His eyes weren’t even on it – they were sort of on the ground, if he could look through the wood. He was like a guy on death row right now. It wasn’t right. Gary had to stop himself from saying anything because this one of those moods that he knew Jason needed silence for to think. After a good wait, he lifted his hand to knock, but that took a moment to actually happen, too. He was caught between wanting to stay and go, but he made the right choice by going through with it. Three quick knocks, one lasting longer than the rest, and then he was carefully gathering his breath to speak.
“You can just shout,” Gary told him. “If she’s not answering, she –” Death glare. “I’ll shut up.”
He looked grateful. He knocked again to be sure, but when there still wasn’t a response, he took the advice and spoke anyway.
“Stephanie –” And he abruptly stopped, only to start again the ‘proper’ way. “Boss.”
“You can call her ‘Stephanie’, you know. It’s her name –”
“Gary.”
“I’m just trying to help!”
He got ignored. Jason was hovering an inch away from the door, focused on getting out what he’d come here to say. This seemed serious. Gary wasn’t sure if he should give them time alone or not.
“I just came by to say good luck,” he said. “I – just... didn’t want you to go... without hearing that.”
His eyes were closed and his head was low. He looked tired and torn and trapped where he was. With the new silence he was sitting in, Gary got the message that that was all he was going to say, but for Jason to still be here, still in front of the door as if he was waiting for her...
“... Is that it...?”
“Yeah. That’s it,” Jason muttered. His mini-spell had been broken and he stepped away. “You’re going with her?”
“I hope so,” Gary said. “That’s it? You’re not gonna say anything else?”
“Gary...”
“No – come on! You clearly want to say something else. It’s written all of your face!” So was the death glare. “Jason, get back over there, dude!”
“Gary –”
Dumb kids! Gary grabbed Jason by the arm and pulled him back over to the door. There wasn’t a drop of resistance while he was doing it. Everyone always told him to shut up, even when he was right. Not this time! He wanted that double-date.
“So,” he prodded. “Go say something!”
On the bright side, Jason looked way less miserable standing by it again, like those two steps closer had made a difference in the end. On the other, now he was definitely caught. He was rubbing the back of his neck in that nervous way he was partly famous for. And, as usual, when he couldn’t come up with anything to say, he gave Gary another death glare. Those lost their effect after a while.
“What am I supposed to say?”
“How about ‘I’ll miss you’? That’s a good one! Ooh – or say ‘my heart will bleed without you’!”
“I’ll be gone for hours, not years,” Jason fired at him. Awwwww – he was angry because he was embarrassed! Wuvvy, wuvvy wuv! “I’m going. I said all I could.”
“Okay, fine.” Hey – get back here! This was happening! Gary had his arm again. “Then you get to sit here and wait for her to talk to you.”
“What?”
“That’s how this works! You say your thing, she says her, you finish the job, you profess your love –”
“Gary –”
“– and then you go make babies!”
“Gary!”
“I don’t make the rules, dude! This is how it happens, and you’re gonna sit here and let it happen or I’m gonna punch you in the nads!” Without another word from the unmarried one, Gary pounded on the door. This was even more exciting than the fight! He had tingles everywhere! “Stephanie! Jason wants to talk! He’s not leaving until you get out here, and this is the only way to get out of the bathroom!”
“When this is over, I’m hurting you.”
Then Gary would just have to stand at the wedding with a limp.
Last edited by Tartra on Sun Oct 09, 2011 11:55 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 Feb 12, 2011 5:58 pm
Rudy was still clinging to consciousness long enough to hear Stephanie say something to the goggle-guy and to watch her, through a darkening haze, hurry off with her arm linked with the tubby guy. Oh. Well, that was most likely the A-1 then - the two seemed chummy enough as they wandered off together - although he didn't exactly fit Rudy's idea of what an A-1 would look or act like. With the weakly firing synapses of his pummeled and pain-drenched brain working exhaustively to analyze the scene, it fit with his assumptions on what Jason had said about the two. And he, of course, pushed it further to envelop his vision of Stephanie as a man-eater with even the most ruthless men in the Agency wrapped around her finger and reduced to giddy, sex-hungered puppies.
It wasn't long after Stephanie left the room, that the urge to lay down came over him. And just as suddenly, he was, unable to remember making the decision to move from his kneeling position to a prone one, but not in any real state of mind to argue with gravity about it. When he became aware of himself again, blinking painfully and growing cold in the pool of his own blood, he sat up with extreme effort and realized he was alone in the room with the muscle-head. Hm. When did that Jason dude leave? How long had he been gone? It felt like Rudy'd had his eyes closed for only a second.
Everything ached, especially the hole in his shoulder and he could feel that urge to sleep tugging at him again, but nonchalantly shrugged it off. If it was one thing Rudy was good at, and his years of "playing" with Noel had prepared him for, it was being able to stay conscious through excruciating amounts of pain. He would have made a great addition to the Pain Eaters division if it didn't demand so much discipline and actual work from him. Speaking of getting out of work...
There was a moment of panic when he realized that Stephanie had run off with Mr. Patten, keeping the man fully out of Rudy's reach. But then he considered the fact that if the A-1 was already catering to her needs behind closed doors, and so wrapped up in her that he'd follow her command at a snap of her fingers, then anything Rudy might want to hold over his head would probably be useless at this point. The relationship didn't seem that big of a secret with how they acted and that meant Quin threatening to tell on them would probably not worry them in the least. Which meant they were either too high up for them to be touchable or it really didn't matter as much as he'd assumed it did. Maybe A-1 ranks really were exempt from everything...
Either way, it left him back where he started. Having to deal with Noel. And there was only some of the wounds he'd received that he could blame on stuff Stewart had done to him on the delivery trip; Noel would most likely see through ALL of it and assume that Stephanie had attacked and shot him. And she would be pissed about it, but not at March. No, whatever had happened and whatever story Noel came up with in her own head, to account for his appearance, it would all be Quin's fault. Because that's what constituted "cheating" between them - when he got his ass handed to him by another woman. Especially when she and he both knew...it had been an intentional chain of events.
Considering the fact that the A-1 hadn't killed him but merely demoted him for misplacing the lives of his elite unit, the way Noel had set him up actually didn't turn out as badly as it could have. Still, it wasn't the end result that made him angry. It was the fact that he knew she'd intended for things to go badly by NOT telling him who's men they were - probably hoping that Rudy would end up blabbing too much and get choked through the phone by Patten. During their clandestine relationship over the years, Quin worked very hard to put up an intricate facade of submission towards his partner, allowing her to feel important and in control of him. While at the same time, he'd subtly manipulated her with her desire for him, allowing Rudy the freedom to do whatever he wanted if he remained close and pretended to be her boy toy when it was convenient to do so.
It worked to keep things running smoothly and it kept Rudy comfortable in his cushy position as an A-3. The fact that she'd deliberately manipulated a situation in order to make him look bad in front of a superior, meant that she'd caught onto his game and was willing to fight back. And that was not good, especially now that he was a lower rank than her. Going behind her back and turning his attentions to manipulating someone else this soon would only backfire - she could be a crazy, possessive bitch, sometimes - so for the moment...he was stuck...with her.
At least she wasn't here and he could start formulating a new plan on how to move things forward. With Patten and Stephanie gone - and Steph ready to slice his throat before she'd let him talk to her again - he'd have to think of something else to eventually get back on top. If Noel knew the rules to the games he played with her head, it would be harder to use her to climb that ladder again. No doubt the demotion was planned as well and she'd want to keep him firmly in her pocket from now on, instead of letting him run around on his own out in the field. Shit! He was totally gonna miss Arisia this year!
Finally, gathering enough of his wits to actually consciously return to the room, he set his sights on the big guy whom he had yet to hear a single word from - probably some moderately low-level lackey who they kept around to act as muscle. He definitely looked the part of a lumbering moron. But! He was someone new to talk to!
Getting slowly to his feet, staying hunched over as his shoulder and head screamed foul obscenities all along his nerve endings, he let out a hissed breath and finally straightened his back, shaking his head and swaying before turning to the giant - fuck! Wow! GIANT! - with his dorky grin. "Low blood sugar, heh," he said with a smug nod, acting as if he DIDN'T have a plum stuck to his face where his right eye should be. "I tell ya, it's just not a good week until you're sent to the hospital for blunt force trauma after a violent encounter with a psychotic woman. But don't tell my Lead that I said that. Speaking of, gotta find a phone. Dark Lady will wanna hear about where the target's run off to." It would help if he actually knew, but he could make a few guesses based on their last hours together.
His normally rapid fire voice came out with a slight wavering tone, like something hinged was squeaking loosely in his throat, but it did not impede the excited mode of speaking that he usually adopted. And his one usable eye, surrounded by purpled and blackened flesh but not as swollen as the right, blinked hyper-alertly as he looked around, not seeming to notice or care about the drying streaks of gore coming from his nose and temple. Rudy's voice only came to a halt as he peered around, his eye brightening as it fell upon his shoe and he stumbled over to it, taking several minutes to bend over and pick it up without losing his uneven footing.
"Heh, I bet that shit looked awesome, yeah?" he said, gesturing with his sneaker at the taller man. "Hey, are you on the Stewart case too?" Not a real question because he didn't wait for an answer. "Have you ever seen her - Steph - follow through with that hand-jugular thing? Oh...my Gawd...dude! Never in my life have I ever seen a more beautiful woman covered in blood and enjoying herself so immensely, I kid you not. Definitely something to see before you die." That last statement was accompanied by a few deliberate pokes to the guy's arm and an excited nod as if he'd suggested trying a delicious meal at a well-known restaurant.
And just because he couldn't help himself, he leaned in a little and asked in a conspiratorial whisper, "So...how long has Patten been tapping that? Did it start recently or have they been together for a while? Honestly, don't know much about the guy, but he seemed to have a bit of a stick up his ass the last time I talked to him. And now..." he glanced in the direction Stephanie went, gesturing with his thumb and cocking a displeased eyebrow at the lackey. "Kinda lame. I'm a bit disappointed, you know? Totally expected to get the Darth Vader treatment or something. Either Steph lobbed off his balls in just a few hours or he was a bit of a pansy to begin with. All talk and no action--pfffttt! And I'm not surprised with the way the guy went on - playing badass one minute, then flipping sunshine the next. Can you say, psycho? Course, I wouldn't blame him, seeing what she ended up doing to Graninger."
He made a small, vague circular motion in the air with his finger - also decorated with drying streams of blood splatter - and rolled his eyes with a knowing grin. "All Agency women. Same story over and over and the madness is catching." It wasn't like the information was useful to him now, so until it became necessary to report back to his Lead - Gawd! He freaking hated being an A-5! - a little gossip couldn't hurt. The two obviously weren't hiding it - holding hands in public and using terms of endearment like "Pup" - so everybody had to know something about it. And Patten was at the highest rank; no doubt everybody had something bad to say about him.
All these thoughts of having to eventually confront Noel, and trash talking Stephanie and Mr. Patten were eventually quieted and subdued when he started to think of his target again. Ozzie. This was probably the longest he'd ever been without his phone - which had a built-in tracking system that monitored the specific, spontaneous combustion patterns that she was known for - and it felt really weird not to be able to just reach into his pocket and peek at where she currently was on his radar. Even during the different ComicCons and card game Tournaments he stopped at on his "chase", he always kept an ear out for her location, plotting where he could meet up with her next to surprise her.
Not to say that he was anywhere near as obsessed about the case as Noel was - she was the actually transfer buddy - but he liked to keep everything in control as much as he was able. If he was going to play hooky while pretending to do his job, it was necessary to be on top of things all the time, lest an actual explanation became necessary. And in such situations, it helped if he always knew more about her whereabouts than those asking the questions. It hadn't ever come up and even Noel kept interrogations to the minimum, but it never hurt to have back-up.
But now he was completely without any of that knowledge that kept him from getting into trouble and it left him feeling a bit empty and anxious. Had she made it past the Agents in the restaurant okay? Noel certainly hadn't been futzing around when she'd sent that fucking army down upon them - but last he'd heard even the 20 Agents left outside were dead and Noel certainly would have said something if she'd captured Oz. It was like those transfer Agents had a disorder; pissing their pants excitedly and unable to contain themselves with anything regarding their cases - and Stephanie's behavior only emphasized and carried such assertions to their rightful conclusions.
Noel was stuck back at the base, waiting for updates from him and probably wouldn't be aware of it until the last possible moment if Ozzie had been wounded - meaning, she wouldn't know a damn thing until he saw fit to tell her, and him currently without his phone... And those Agents had been equipped with guns. If Osono was hurt or shot she wouldn't go to a hospital because of the threat of hidden Agents - he'd done a pretty good job of slipping a few Agents here and there into police and government uniforms enough to make her wary of authority, further isolating her. So, depending on where exactly she might have gotten a bullet wound...she might be okay, for a while...
It was all stupid. Unlikely imaginings and getting worried over nothing. That was the concussion talking - he'd gotten beaten in the head area enough today that his brain was probably resembling hamburger right about now - and it might be a good idea to wait to think about these and other concerns until a doctor got a good look at him. "Any idea where the hospital is in this place?" he asked the mammoth Agent, scratching the back of his head idly and smiling crookedly. "I need like, some serious Hulk bandaids and pain killers and a new change of clothes - these ones are totally wearing me. Literally, heh."
She was alone. There's the Pup. Doesn't count. Nothing but a low-level computer geek. She was alone. Not only that, but she was setting Jason, the one person she truly cared about other than herself, gently into the lion's mouth and turning her back. Running away. Just like Richard did to her...
It was different. The two were not the same. Still she couldn't escape the similarities after everything she'd done with him and after all she'd said. Their promises... He would be fine. He was strong and smart. He lived through Alexander twice already and he would do it again. Jean had supposedly lived through Alexander a few times too... In her mind she got an image of Alexander with lightning bolts shooting from his eyes piercing and melting through Jason's goggles--
A dry heave shuddered through her body as she leaned over the bowl, her esophagus violently peeling itself inside out, but nothing came up. Not having eaten or drunk a damn thing since the last time she'd been in this position there was nothing left inside her, her stomach rumbling with an echoed emptiness as the intensity of the urge subsided and she sat back a little. Gasping, tears streaming down her face, she looked up at the ceiling, a lonely bulb hovering up above her little enclosed space. Feebly, she was trying to cling to Master's words, the things that he'd said making her feel good and happy inside despite the harsh reality of what he'd commanded her to do.
Master said that she could do it without him and now that Gwen was most certainly here and alive, everything inside her clicked into motion, ready to get back onto the right path. Her destiny. What she'd been hunting and craving for four straight years, her life and everything that was inside her disappearing down a drain while she waited for this final moment of fulfillment. But she didn't want to. Not without him. Not when his life was at risk. She felt like she was sitting at the card table, pushing Jason forward, lying on a pile of chips, while Master juggled the dice in his massive hands. Stephanie was putting everything into the pile with the certainty that he could command the cubes to fall exactly how he wanted them to, based on the hope that whatever he intended was good for her too, rather than setting herself on the pile of chips with her partner.
No. Of course. Master was beautiful and full of grace and despite his magnificent claims to evil, he would keep his word to her. He promised. Alexander wouldn't hurt Jason so long as he did as he was told and at least appeared to help the ex-Agent in his attempts to get his body back. A willing and able Jason meant a happy and non-violent Alexander. As Benoit's scathing words came back to her, another image flashed in her mind of Jason falling from Alexander's grip, collapsing lifelessly on the ground with scorched and smoking holes where his beautiful eyes should be.
"No! Please, stop!" she whimpered sorrowfully as she bent back over the bowl, her hands plunging into her hair to keep the flaxen curtain from her face.
After a few moments of her stomach debating whether to abuse her some more, roiling like an unhinged sea inside her body, it finally retreated back again leaving her with a deep, grating headache in it's place. Running her hand through her hair and letting out a heavy breath through pursed lips, her fingers stopped as they hit a speed bump of tangles. Raking her fingers through the tiny snarl, forcing it open, she blinked hazily when her hand came away with a thick net of blonde hair capturing the appendages. Staring blankly at it for a minute, she rapidly swiveled her fingers to remove the hair-glove and deposited it into the still clear toilet bowl where her light strands stuck to the surface of the water.
How odd... Her hair was normally healthy and sleek, with no split ends and didn't break very easily - she used special products ordered from overseas and worked hard to take care of it. Blonde hair, she mused. In just a short while she'd be a brunette. Oh, how she longed for that. Hours spent back in her base looking over a dozen high-quality, candid photos of Gwen with her thick, dark brown locks swept up in a messy bun while she puttered around her apartment, or spilling over her shoulders in loose wavy curls while she was out in public. Wanting that hair rather than her thin, bone straight, blonde mop - as well-cared for as it was, it was merely a part of a superficial hygiene regime that put forth an air of professionalism and untouchability - wanting to run her hands through that dark-colored thickness on HER scalp. To own it.
And it would finally be hers, everything just within reach. Breathing deeply and wiping her face clear of tears, she stood within the stall using the walls for leverage and wobbled slightly as she stared down at nothing. She needed to focus on Gwen now. There was nothing she could do for Jason, no goodbye she could offer now without opening a can of worms in front of Master and anybody else around. The only thing left for that situation was to hope that he would survive Alexander for a third time and that he wouldn't hate her when they met again in Elmira. But she couldn't go out there and meet Gwen like this - a sloppy, weeping mess because she missed her partner already. She needed absolute focus.
Ignoring the throbbing pain in her temple and the still present illness in her gut, Stephanie tucked her hair behind her ears and reached into her back pocket where the small box Master gave her still rested, taking it out and turning it over in her hands. It was either this or Jason standing by her side, because as much as she was grateful for Master's belief in her, she couldn't do this without him. But she was going to have to. Stumbling to the long sink, her attention focused on the carton, sniffling and trying not to think about Jason and failing, she opened it up and started to set things out on the counter by the sink.
That was when the first knocks came and she ignored the Pup and his impatience. Just a minute! Just one...minute...and she'd be fine. She'd be perfect without him. Neither of the vials left were Atropytamine and she tried not to remember what happened to it or the advice that Jason gave her back at the airport. Picking up the vial of a similar, stronger drug, Lachesis, she paused when the Puppy's excited voice came through the door.
Jason? He was outside? He'd followed her? Her eyes grew cloudy for a moment and she pressed the vial to her lips thoughtfully, trying to think of what she should do. If she'd wanted a chance to actually explain to him, to actually TALK to him before she left, here it was. But she was immobilized by the necessity of using the drug in her hands - she wasn't going to stop, she couldn't, but if she left the room to see him, she wasn't coming back in here either. There wouldn't be another moment to stop and take a break once she was moving and sweeping Gwen off to where she needed to be. If she let her guard down for even a moment, with how powerful Gwen must have become by now - if Rudy's condition was any sort of reasonable clue - it would be all Stewart would need to destroy her.
There was another soft knock and a shiver ran through her, knowing instinctively that it was Jason's hand on the door now, imagining him standing just on the other side of it. When he said her name, a sudden warmth filled her, loving the way his voice shaped the syllables, before she scowled slightly and clicked her tongue at his self-conscious correction. She hated and loved that. Loved that even after everything, he was still stuck on being reserved and holding her at arms length; always so dedicated to the work they were trying to do, loyal to the Agency to the end. But she hated how it kept getting in the way, building mazes and walls between them.
There was a bit of silence and she drifted to the door to be closer to him, leaning slightly against it with her face pressed to it's smooth surface and holding the vial in her lightly curled fingers. What did he want to say? What was so important that he'd disobey her orders to stay where he was? What was so strong that he had to leave the presence of the A-1 to get it out to her before she skipped onto a plane and even more distance spread between them?
When the words came, an exhalation of breath left her and her hand slid across the surface of the door, her eyes searching through the thickness trying to find hidden messages in his voice. That was it? Surely there was more... Stephanie hated it when he called her 'boss' and kept himself professionally distant. But now she hated it even more and she silently cursed the Agency when she felt him draw away, a physical coldness descending upon her when she knew he was no longer right there beside the door. If that was all, then she wasn't going to look like a fool or make HIM look like a fool by rushing out there, sobbing, clinging and professing her love. Not when it would only make him feel awkward after what little he'd offered - or was willing to offer - in return.
Goodbye, then, Jason.
Turning away from the door, she went back to the sink, sniffling lightly and breathing heavily as she pulled one of the thin, small syringes from the case. Tossing the hair from her face and firming her lips in a grim line, she began to fill it with the softly yellow and clear liquid. Just like before in the jet bathroom, Stephanie caught a glimpse of her reflection, directly in her line of sight with the vial held before her, but this time..she stopped and set them both down as she stared. Green eyes, bright and vibrant and encircled by darkened flesh, set in a pale mask met her gaze. Because that's what it looked like; a mask of flesh clinging to her skull. Not nearly as extreme as a concentration camp victim, but everything was distorted beyond her normally smooth, vibrant and youthful features.
Her thin, delicately pointed nose looked almost beak-like in the middle of her face and there was something hollow and yet bloated about her cheeks and forehead. Her eyes were a little sunken and shadowed by her thin, light eyebrows, and the only things that had any color left at all were her eyes and her lips, seeming to bulge and swell from the rest of her face with their obscene amount of green and red. And her hair hung limp and almost choking white about her shoulders, clearly in desperate need of a comb or water or...something to bring it back to life. Licking her strawberry lips hesitantly, she reached a hand forward and touched the shiny surface, her brow crinkling as she searched her features for anything she recognized. Strangely, there WAS something familiar about the way she looked now - she resembled her mother the last time Stephanie saw her. Which said a lot because the woman had been pushing fifty at the time and her body had been torn to shreds by her chronic alcoholism.
She jerked slightly and blinked her watery eyes in surprise when another rapid knocking came at the door and Gary's muffled voice came through the barrier again. Jason...he...he was still here? And he wanted to talk to her. He was waiting to speak directly to her. The hand that touched the mirror came back towards her to rest on her cheek as she tried to think quickly, looking down at the things set up on the sink. The syringe, half filled with pale yellow liquid, glared hauntingly up at her and for a moment or two, she hesitated when she thought about what he would think of her if she decided to take it. But just like back at the Hammondsport airport, she didn't HAVE a choice here. Master's orders prevented him from coming with her...but Gwen... She needed something to help her get through this.
He wanted to talk to her... Everything seemed so confused and hard lately, but her thoughts drifted back to when she'd confronted him by the cells, giving him the opportunity to fully leave her and get everything he wanted back. He'd chosen her. Jason, the man who for the whole time she'd known him, being concerned and destroyed by the imminent loss of his precious suit, defined by and proud of his perfect record and all he'd worked for, had rejected the chance to get most of it back just to be with her. When she'd given him the order to stay, she'd been restrained by the situation and unable to speak freely to him about what she wanted and what she needed from him. Now, without the A-1 breathing down her neck - at least, she hoped he wasn't out there, waiting with Jason and Pup - she had the opportunity to tell him all that had been caged in her throat at that moment.
Tucking her hair behind her ears again and sniffling firmly, she finished filling the syringe with Lachesis, again at 10 ml but twice as strong as the Atropytamine, and stuck it into her arm. Breathing unevenly and swaying on her feet, she recapped the needle with a very deliberate movement and tucked it back into the case with the vial, depositing it all back into her pants pocket. It was taking longer to take effect than the Atropytamine had, but she could feel it working, slowly each door of emotion closing inside her with heavy slams as her pupils shrank to mere pinpricks.
Then she was turning from the horrible stranger in the mirror and adjusting her black tank top and smoothing her hands over her pants before unlocking the bathroom door and opening it. Emerald eyes were filled with nothing but Jason as she stepped from the room, the door falling closed at her back, Pup and anything else forgotten as merely a foot separated her from her partner. For half a minute, she just stared, not saying anything and not looking like she was going to, the drug in her system humming through her veins and pulling all her internal strings tight. Then she was stepping forward, closing the inches of distance between them, resting against him with her head on his shoulder and releasing a long sigh.
"Hold me...just for a minute..." she said sadly, her voice half-muffled against him.
Standing there for a few minutes, her hands resting close against his sides, she rubbed her face gently against his chest, breathing in deeply the smell of him. The panic and nausea that had been plaguing her ever since she'd left his presence, instantly fled with the feel of his muscled and warm body this close to her and filled her with a renewed strength and calm. Lightly humming the tune to "Wanted, Dead or Alive", she went through a few bars before she was able to lift her head and actually look at him again.
"Luck," she said, nodding slowly and growing thoughtful. He probably would prefer if this was a professional goodbye...which she hated. "I accept your well wishes and offer them to you in return. I really need you to stay here now... Yet again, we cannot depend on Benoit for anything. It'll be the apartment all over again and he'll come out in the end snobbily saying 'Oh, vwell, I meint to doo zat.'" And her mocking French accent was accompanied by a sardonic roll of her eyes, her expression firming as she locked eyes with him. "I can't go through that again. It was infuriating enough the first time, but this is it. I have her and I'm not going to lose her. Once we're together, the EDP should be more than enough to neutralize Gwen's powers completely. The only reason this could fail is if Alexander gets between us again, because for whatever reason, whether it's love or not, he is attached to my target and he WILL get in the way if we allow it."
Looking down, she impulsively reached for his hand, holding it in hers and running her fingers over his knuckles musingly. She was unhooking his glove now and slowly slipping the fabric from his fingers, her eyebrows arching briefly as actual skin came into view. Once the glove was removed completely, she was running her fingers over his bare skin, smoothing over the back of his hand and his palm, reveling in the pulsing heat of his flesh. Pressing his hand to cradle her face, her eyes finally came back up to his face as she whispered, "I wish you would touch me like you own me..."
Everything came to her through a haze, the feel of him so close and warm causing deadened and drained emotions to flutter and surge within her like bubbles in soda water. Given the actual freedom to express herself, it came out stifled and blurted, urges deep within shoving emotions to be expressed and grabbing them back at the last minute, releasing shadowed versions of them. Her breathing was soft and restrained and she closed her eyes as she rubbed her lips to caress across his fingers, allowing herself this one quiet moment of impropriety. His skin...Jason's skin... She'd touched him before of course, and there was plenty of proof of that under the collar of his suit. But this was different. This was almost like HE was touching her.
"Jean wasn't suppose to die," she said soberly, moving his hand off of her face and looking down at it held in both of hers. Again, she remembered her fight with Benoit and the implication that her partner would become another victim of Alexander, but the urge to weep about it escaped her. "Something went wrong and he underestimated the ex-Agent. Something which Benoit has done for years and seems intent on repeating. Part of me wants to believe it had a purpose, that he was just trying to feel out the entirety of what his target was capable of. But enough is enough. Now we're depending on him too and I'm not willing to allow this to become a part of some other, BIGGER plan that involves hunting them both down again.
"We have a chance to win and this part is absolutely crucial," she was looking down at his hand again, stroking his palm idly. "You're the only one I trust to make sure it all falls into place. To make sure that our mission and case succeeds. And I have absolute faith in your ability to do this. But... you're important to me." Stephanie looked up finally, fully in the grip of the Lachesis and unable to shake her flat tone of voice, the mask of the EDP slipping over her features and keeping them immobile and expressionless. "I hope I don't need to explain why - if I DO, after everything... then I don't know how to fucking help you or make my feelings clearer. You're not just your rank and you're not just your suit."
She briefly brought his hand up to her lips and kissed his knuckles before releasing him and handing his glove back. "Do not make the same mistake Jean did. Alexander might be an idiot, but he's a wild dog if nothing else. When we start thinking that we know exactly what he'll do, that's when we lose. I need you to promise me..." Her eyes drifted to finally notice Gary standing nearby before locking once more with Jason's. "The Pup and I will be waiting in Elmira with a bottle of tequila to celebrate. I want you to promise me that you'll meet us there. Don't call me your boss and just say the words as if you have to. I want to hear you say my name, the way I love to hear you say it and promise me that I won't be drinking alone."
Even through the now fully activated fog of the drug in her system, Stephanie desired more than anything to hear those words from him. With Benoit's cryptic threats still buzzing in her head, and Master sounding almost like he was just trying to placate her.. she would only believe he'd be alright if she heard it from Jason's lips. Because truthfully, only he could control what he would or wouldn't do and he was the only one who's words meant anything to her anymore.
Lachesis was quickly strangling every emotion she had, gutting and disemboweling every feeling and internal sensation - the berserker version of Atropytamine - so the moment of guilt she had for taking the thing was quickly silenced before it had a chance to fully register consciously. He would understand. He'd said it himself back in the car - the case was what was important and they all did what they had to in order to make sure everything happened according to plan.
But now...she couldn't get them to stop. For a few minutes, she completely abandoned them to doing their own thing, the suggestion already strong enough that it no longer needed her attention to maintain it, and she began moving her arms within her restraints trying to get them loose enough that she could maybe slip a hand free and unbuckle herself. Not working. Whoever tied these on her had obviously done so with the threat of gravity suddenly reversing itself in the very near future being the forefront of their concern. Not only were the straps across her body thick and tight but placed strategically over different parts of her arms, keeping her from bending her elbows properly. Okay...
So, she tried to see if she could somehow reach the tray that Karen left nearby - along with the syringe and vial of knock-out drug the Agent woman had originally used, there were also bandages, surgical needle and thread and a scalpel - which, Gwen tried not to think about the possible reasons that was set out right now. But the position of the tray itself was about level with her shoulder and up by her head. Unless she quickly developed a go-go-gadget jaw, there was no possibility of nudging it close enough where she could maybe get the scalpel to use somehow.
Finally, with a soft groan in her throat, she turned back to the two lovebirds, picking up the threads of suggestion from before and trying to twist them so one or both would suddenly think it was a good idea to let her go. It was something she'd learned pretty quickly during her time with Rudy that if the thought wasn't already present in the person's mind, then there was nothing that she could build upon or use. And despite the small thought having entered both of their minds at some point, she found herself battling a wave of chemistry that could not be stifled or quieted. She'd have better luck trying to block a tsunami using her own body as a "wall" - which, as she attempted to wrestle the threads and make them calm down, it eventually became exactly like that.
The force of nature couldn't be undone and the more she tried to slip in thoughts like, Hmm, mebbe I should release that gal ova thah befoh scooping dis lady; just so's she's not stuck thah fah houhs without a bathroom break ohr sumthin' or Gosh! I really wanna show this guy what's under my uniform...but it's really awkward with that girl watching us. Damn! I should probably just untie her and make her go away! the more annoyed the two seemed to get with her presence. But only in a slightly neglectful and ignorant way, rather than the extremes that Gwen was hoping for. Meaning, they both broke their lip smacking long enough to glance in Gwen's direction before hurrying over to the supply closet and joyfully locking themselves inside it.
Another, louder, frustrated groan ripped from Gwen's throat and she plopped her head back down on the cot in defeat. As she heard Karen's muffled giggles come from within, she whispered a prayer that they'd knock over something fumy and pass out in there just before "it" happened and end up waking with bad tastes in their mouths from the experience. Or something just as unpleasant to destroy the romance she'd unleashed upon them.
Up to this point, Gwen hadn't really ventured much outside the room psychically, trying not to alert anybody of her presence but more...afraid of finding Stephanie's signature and unwittingly letting the woman know she was here and awake. The only possible reason Gwen could think of for her not being here, leering over her was 1. she probably was unaware her target was here or 2. she DID know but was busy elsewhere and had left Karen with her bottles of drugs and syringes as a safeguard(which did not seem like a Stephanie idea at all, so it was really just possibility number one). And the longer she could keep Stephanie busy with whatever it was she was currently preoccupied with doing, the better. An involuntary shiver ran through her to remember that awful static and how alone and disoriented it made her feel and she was filled with an even stronger desire to immediately remove herself from this place before she was forced to encounter it again.
Pushing the intense fear from her mind, she started to hesitantly reach out beyond the room, looking for somebody who might be open to her snares, keeping herself focused as she touched upon different minds in the rooms nearby. There was one fellow who seemed like a possibility - an A-10 who ran maintenance on computer systems for others in his department, and had a crush on the pretty Kraft, who might be convinced to abandon his work station to pay her a quick visit - but Gwen was suddenly distracted by a familiar signature stalking in the hallway. It wasn't someone she immediately recognized and she found herself going crazy trying to place where she knew them from, before worry set in. They, whoever they were, were walking straight to this room!
Before Gwen really had a second longer to prepare for it, a woman appeared in the doorway, clacking highheels coming to a smooth stop with hands clinging lightly to the door frame. Honey blonde, shoulder-length hair with pixie bangs gave the rest of the short woman's appearance an almost girlish feel, especially as dark, doe-like eyes looked around the room, searching for something. When they fell on Gwen however, recognition brightened within the large orbs and her plush, rose-bud lips curved into a playful smile, cute, chipmunk-esque teeth barely visible between them.
"I know you..." the woman said in a pretty British accent, her body moving with a natural coquettish seductiveness as she walked into the room. Cocking her head curiously to the side as she came to stand over the cot, she gave Gwen an avid, too-hungry look, forcing her to shrink back as much as the straps would allow. "The grand...Gwendolyn Stewart. Am I right?"
Gwen didn't respond, but the woman smiled again anyway, obviously intensely pleased to see her for some reason that she wasn't really sure she wanted to know the root of. And again, although she couldn't feel anything inside the woman's head, blocked off with a controlled intensity that rivaled the corpse-like signature of the odd "Mr. Patten", there was something familiar about her mental signature that was just at the tip of Gwen's tongue. Who the hell was she?
"I've been hearing a lot about you for the past two days. Quite a little trouble maker, aren't you?" The mysterious young woman had turned her attention from Gwen to the small tray beside the cot, her fingers lightly tracing over first the needle and then the scalpel, pleased by the metallic textures of them. Even when she wasn't looking at her, Gwen got the feeling the woman was still studying her, analyzing her every expression and movement. Needless to say, it was not only creepy but extremely threatening to be in her presence.
There seemed to come an end to her child-like joy and she turned back to Gwen with a different intensity filling her large dark brown eyes. "Where is he?" When Gwen blinked at her with a lack of comprehension, she seemed to loom closer without moving an inch, suddenly taking on a spider-like aspect with Gwen playing the part of the fly caught in a web. "He's most certainly not dead, pretty little psychic. He's here somewhere and if I know anything about the little pillock, it's that he's extremely lucky. So...not dead, then where?"
Quin.
Not Gwen's thought but a harsh mental pulse from the woman before her. Everything Gwen had ever felt from Stephanie in regards to thoughts of herself - the all-encompassing hunger, and violent, soul-consuming obsession - were magnified ten-fold when the man's name drifted to Gwen's consciousness. And along with it, there was a hate and lust that struck deep into the most primitive levels a person had in their psyche, all swirling around just beneath the surface in this woman's head and focused with targeted precision at Rudolph Quin--
"Noel...?" Gwen breathed, her eyes widening as she remembered the few text message conversations that Rudy had engaged in during the time she'd known him. Even then, Gwen hadn't been able to reach through the phone lines to the woman's head very far, but it was unmistakably the same person. And Noel smiled at her in response, pleased to be recognized.
"You know of me? Does he think of me often?" she asked sweetly, something sick and coy entering her eyes at the mere implication that the man was as obsessed with her as she was with him.
"No, actually. Hardly ever. And usually not in a flattering light either..." That instantly hardened the girlish woman's features, suddenly straightening her back and looking off somewhere in the distance thoughtfully. Gwen really tried not to eavesdrop, but the walls that had been there before weren't as rock solid as they originally seemed to be, and now thoughts were spilling out of her and flowing over Gwen like thick, warm blood, gushing from Rudy's veins--
"You tell me where he is right now." The horrific, gory fantasies were silenced and Gwen gasped a little, looking up at a very stoic Noel, once again guarded and statuesque. "It's bad enough he had to get involved with this stupid side-quest in the first place, abandoning his, MY case because he's too foolish to grab the right girl. But now this delay is taking too long and I'm done playing games. I followed a trail of blood droplets and bodies straight to here and I found the car he stole, down below - a wedding? Really? So, I know he's wounded and I know the malevolent Eric Patten is still aiming for him - you don't misuse a superior Agent's resources so carelessly without grievous repercussions - but I can't be arsed to search the entire bloody base before such consequences come to fruition. I'm sure you've noticed, and if your bruised state is any indication, there is no loyalty across cases, especially not with me." There was a pause for a sweet smile that no longer held any measure of sweetness it had before. "If you don't want something awful to happen to you, then you'll point me in the correct direction, immediately. Understand?"
This was the Agent who was after Osono? No wonder they had yet to catch her. No offense to Ozzie at all, who could probably do just as well if there were actual, competent people hunting her, but Rudy wasn't the only one running around with his thumb up his ass when it came to his case. Noel was way too concerned about Quin for anything else to ever enter into her sphere of focus, and that in itself was kind of hard to understand; what did she see in him? Alright, so it was clear the woman was off her rocker and willing to do anything to get her man back under control where he belonged, so any more brutal "honesty" was probably not smart if she wanted to test Noel's dedication to her threats. But there was something remarkably unbalanced about her that left her open to certain manipulations - and no, Gwen was not about to reach out and actually search for Rudy. He had an aversion to her mentally touching him and might alert whoever he was with if such a thing were to occur. So, careful, but hit her with something hard...
"He's with the woman who's been chasing me," even as her voice shook fearfully, her tone was pregnant with implications and she licked her lips nervously while Noel digested that information.
There was a long silence, Noel visibly bristling at mention of the other female Agent, obviously familiar with Stephanie to some degree. "Oh?" she said softly, no longer looking at Gwen but fully immersed in imagining what a meeting between Rudy and Stephanie actually entailed. It was a mixture of something Gwen expected to see in films like Fight Club and Unfaithful and she instantly retreated from the jealous fantasies before they overwhelmed her completely. Jesus! Was there anybody on the Agency payroll who didn't have severe mental and/or emotional issues?
Each pause that Noel took to fantasize really only lasted a breath of a second, but felt like they went on forever with the blonde woman staring off at nothingness, trying to come to grips with the fact that her secret boyfriend was and had been plotting to meet up with his old flame this whole time. Would Gwen do the polite thing and inform her that Rudy really was an idiot and had been planning to blackmail March and thus, was probably dead if he actually followed through? Would she inform her that Stephanie currently had a fixation on her own partner that kept her from seeing anyone else as remotely interesting or deserving of life, including Gwen herself? No. So, she instead watched as the gears of Noel's tortured psyche worked to put things together, building up to a climax that was shattered by a muffled female laugh coming from the supply closet.
Gwen's heart actually went out to the woman in sympathy as those girlish features cast a very sorrowful look at the closet in the corner of the room - which was only tempered by the odd, twitchy tic Noel displayed, when one eye blinked half a second quicker than the other while she continued to stare. Even without having a clear view of what was in the woman's head, Gwen could see it all registering across her youthful features - the metaphorical peanut butter on the mouse trap Gwen had thrown out being eaten up greedily as she put two and two together. Rudy's clearly wounded state, yet absence from the main room of the sick bay. Stephanie's target lying unsupervised when Noel herself had witnessed the thousands of collected files that detailed her rabid obsession with Gwendolyn Stewart. And...even more dubious rustling sounds coming from the supply closet.
Eyes glazed and watery, wearing the saddest look Gwen had ever seen in her life - emphasized by the woman's almost virginal features - frozen in place by the muted vocalization of what she thought was her lover having an affair, she stood completely defenseless by Gwen's cot. Now was the time for the mouse trap to snap shut.
"You should let me go," Gwen said softly from her prone position, her voice echoing in the room like ripples on a pond's surface.
As soon as Noel's attention was drawn away from the closet, a few of the defenses weakly stood up, but Gwen had already inserted herself past them and wasn't going to be dislodged by anything the woman did. "Why...why would I do a silly thing like that?" she asked, her voice wavering weakly, trying to get control of herself and failing as a man's muffled voice burst out in excited exclamation from the closet.
"Because, it'd be the perfect thing to get back at them both. Just imagine it, the two of them celebrating in there, thinking they've won, thinking that they've gotten one over on you, only to emerge and find it all disappeared in an instant. How dare she get what you've been waiting for without even having to work for it! How dare he keep you on hold for years with constant promises only to abandon you for that slut! And after all you've done for him!"
Gwen could see everything, all the memories Noel had of years of covering up Quin's mistakes, years of whipping him into submission and then pumping him up, making him her prized little toy. Years of aching for her new special powers and being denied by repeated stupidity over and over, with barely veiled hints that he was romantically involved with her target. In truth, Gwen was saying nothing new but practically reading from Noel's internal teleprompter that she kept stifling again and again, trying to reason herself out of taking any extreme action against him. No more. Now she was being forced to hear it all said aloud and Gwen gladly worked through the woman's pain to make sure the suggestion hammered home, breaking this mouse's fucking neck.
"All those sacrifices! All of those risks! And he KNOWS what will happen to you if anyone were to find out everything you've done for his benefit! Does he care? They're both laughing at you. SHE is laughing at you, getting everything you deserve. STEALING everything that is rightfully yours! Releasing me will be the worst thing that could ever befall them both - imagine their feeble attempts to explain it, to try and assign blame, tearing at each other in the process. Stephanie will be left scrabbling to fix it as I disappear into the aether and Quin will come rushing back to your arms, a wounded and sorry failure. Both of them humbled and punished for their ignorance and arrogance."
The scary part of this wasn't the fact that at any moment, Noel might decide to actually check the closet and find not Stephanie and Rudy but two nobodies, thus breaking the whole charade. It was the fact that even if Gwen hadn't been pulling her strings so strongly, the desire to do such a thing didn't enter Noel's mind and she willingly agreed to Gwen's proposed plan of revenge without one ounce of proof that any of it was based on truth. It was the combination of the massive amount of power that Gwen felt coming from herself completely overwhelming the female Agent and Noel's own imminent emotional breakdown and vulnerability that made her shiver in revulsion as the Agent began to unbuckle her straps.
All of them - she was sure of it now. The entire Agency was actually run by escaped mental patients. It was the only explanation that made sense...
Probably his foot was hurting him again or something and she rolled her eyes while shaking her head. "No. Suck it up, big baby. We're not gonna stop for any more distractions, alright? We've wasted enough time as it--what!?" He was gonna what? "Why do you--?" but any questions she wanted to ask about what he was doing or why, were cut off as his seat flipped back and he was wiggling beyond her field of vision, forcing her to constantly whip her head around to keep an eye on the road while trying to look at him.
"What do you mean 'check on her'? I thought you said she wouldn't wake up until we got there!"
Alex wasn't listening, busily muttering to himself somewhat loudly as he fiddled around back there. She kept silent, trying to keep an eye on traffic while watching him in the rear view, cursing under her breath as he roughly nudged the back of her seat and half of his torso disappeared into the trunk. For a few minutes, she contemplated actually pulling over and sticking her nose back there in his business, but before she could make the decision to move over the appropriate number of lanes to reach the shoulder of the road, he was back, beaming at her and holding what looked like a pretty fancy cell phone.
Did he give her any sort of explanation NOW? No. But his muttering was definitely getting louder and she took a moment to actually look uncomfortable when he asked himself to explain things out loud and mentioned something about laughing at himself... Okay...kinda freakin' me out here, Alex.
The thought came too soon, especially when Alex's voice launched into an actual explanation of what he was doing but...it wasn't Alex's voice. Not only was the tone different, possessing a gravity that she hadn't heard from him before, but also the quality of it was different in a way that sounded like somebody else was in the car with them. But that wasn't the reason she needed to freak out again. No, that didn't come until he started talking openly to himself, switching audibly back and forth between the voice that she was familiar with and this other, new tone of voice that actually made him sound serious, like a man in control. And it didn't help things that the two were having a conversation right in front of her.
The entire situation set Osono's hair on end, but despite that, she stayed quiet and listened to what he was actually saying, slowly calming as she realized what she was witnessing. Alright, so, a little while ago when she'd reached her own conclusions about what was really going on, and all the implications therein, it hadn't really hit home until just now. It was real. Everything Alex had said about what these people could do and what they WANTED to do, was real. And holy shit! He knew that because...
When he finally stopped and turned to her for her opinion, she met his gaze before turning back to pay attention to the road, trying to wrestle through what he expected from her right now and what she actually wanted to say. She was actually grateful that he'd been thoughtful enough to include her up to this point... at least, she hoped that was what that was instead of someone just accidentally leaving the internal microphone on...
"So, they got to you..." her raspy, smoke-weathered voice was solemn as she finally spoke. "That's how you know what they plan to do to Gwen; because that's what they did to you." Alright, she felt the urge - the need - to actually say it out loud. "They put an Agent in your head."
Ozzie shook her head and glared out at the cars sharing the road with her. For some reason, saying it made it more real, but it didn't make things better. "How the hell do you freaking do that to somebody?" There wasn't any denying it either. What Gwen told her about him, back when she was "Stacy", wouldn't fly with what Ozzie was seeing. It wasn't just mental illness or whatever, but two very distinct and different people in there. She could hear it. Not only that, but back at that office building she saw the changes come over him - that really HADN'T been Alex!
And now...they were headed to an Agency headquarters or whatever, to jump right in the middle of their forces with one of their own on the opposing side. Again, she was struggling with her doubts about trusting him, new arguments springing up where old ones had died - so, Alex ACTUALLY had an Agent in his head and that Agent wanted to call some other Agent guy and figure out what their plans were, fully expecting this "Peter" to be honest with him about it? At least, that's what he said, and she had to sort of hope they didn't talk in code and alert this guy to what their little team was planning on doing. And then, when they got to Charlton, she was gonna be left alone for a bit while he did something he wouldn't explain but most likely had to do with either his foot or the Agent in his head. How did she even know that what he was planning to do would be good for Alex and Gwen? And despite the familiarity of their bantering, it was clear that Alex had reservations about trusting this guy as well, questioning everything he said as if he couldn't believe he was even considering the suggestion.
Suddenly she was feeling incredibly tired from all of this and she didn't know what to really expect from him anymore. Either of them - Alex and the Agent he'd apparently been hiding. On the one hand, she was somewhat confident in her ability to handle whatever he could throw at her, whether he ended up acting fishy during his phone call, or turned around and started issuing orders for Agents to attack her in Charlton - it didn't matter. She'd handle it all the same way - she'd blow like a fucking volcano and everybody would get to re-enact Pompeii with her. Easy.
On the other...although she hadn't given him much information about her weaknesses, she WAS kinda leery of what this guy knew and what he could possibly do with that information. No longer was she taking past situations as proof of his loyalty, but rather assuming that whatever he wanted to do, he couldn't because he was stuck in some guy's head. But despite his wariness, once this Agent explained things to Alex about the phone call, the guy willingly gave into the plan and seemed to accept it. Should she trust Alex and how he treated this guy? Could she trust Alex? He'd lied to her a bunch of times during this whole trip and now, suddenly, with the "appearance" of being open and honest about his little duality problem, she didn't know what to do with that. It was somehow more threatening than his made-up stories had been, where he was just a guy torn up about getting his psychic girlfriend into trouble.
Clinging to the fact that Alex was probably the one stable part of this whole thing - he had powers too, and no doubt he neither wanted the Agent in his head nor intended to be double crossed - she decided to trust Alex's judgment for now. Letting out a long, heavy breath, she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders wearily. "Questions? No, not really. I mean, you pretty much explained everything. And honestly, it seems like a good idea to talk to the guy in charge, to help us figure out if any of this will work or not - if you really think he'll be honest with you about it, although I don't really see why he would be." Unless he somehow thought they were still friends and were planning something together...
Osono grimaced like she had a bad taste in her mouth that she wanted to spit out, but shook her head wearily again. "Do what you gotta do. Make the call."
She ran a hand through her short blonde hair and contented herself with keeping her attention on the road for now, ready to keep an ear out for everything he had to say on this side of the phone - would he be offended if she demanded that he speak clearly and loudly while he called this Peter guy? Since 1. if he really WAS helping Alex and Gwen out and on their side and any verbal oddities would possibly alert Peter that he wasn't traveling alone and 2. if he wasn't, she wanted to use any whispering or muttering or odd backwards talk as an excuse to burn the inside of the car, she decided to keep that thought to herself. But then something did occur to her and she interjected before he could do or say anything else.
"What is your name? Not Alex's name, but your name. It'd make me feel better if I didn't have to refer to you as 'The Agent guy in Alex's head'. Your REAL name, please - quit fucking lying to me, thanks."
It wasn't long after Stephanie left the room, that the urge to lay down came over him. And just as suddenly, he was, unable to remember making the decision to move from his kneeling position to a prone one, but not in any real state of mind to argue with gravity about it. When he became aware of himself again, blinking painfully and growing cold in the pool of his own blood, he sat up with extreme effort and realized he was alone in the room with the muscle-head. Hm. When did that Jason dude leave? How long had he been gone? It felt like Rudy'd had his eyes closed for only a second.
Everything ached, especially the hole in his shoulder and he could feel that urge to sleep tugging at him again, but nonchalantly shrugged it off. If it was one thing Rudy was good at, and his years of "playing" with Noel had prepared him for, it was being able to stay conscious through excruciating amounts of pain. He would have made a great addition to the Pain Eaters division if it didn't demand so much discipline and actual work from him. Speaking of getting out of work...
There was a moment of panic when he realized that Stephanie had run off with Mr. Patten, keeping the man fully out of Rudy's reach. But then he considered the fact that if the A-1 was already catering to her needs behind closed doors, and so wrapped up in her that he'd follow her command at a snap of her fingers, then anything Rudy might want to hold over his head would probably be useless at this point. The relationship didn't seem that big of a secret with how they acted and that meant Quin threatening to tell on them would probably not worry them in the least. Which meant they were either too high up for them to be touchable or it really didn't matter as much as he'd assumed it did. Maybe A-1 ranks really were exempt from everything...
Either way, it left him back where he started. Having to deal with Noel. And there was only some of the wounds he'd received that he could blame on stuff Stewart had done to him on the delivery trip; Noel would most likely see through ALL of it and assume that Stephanie had attacked and shot him. And she would be pissed about it, but not at March. No, whatever had happened and whatever story Noel came up with in her own head, to account for his appearance, it would all be Quin's fault. Because that's what constituted "cheating" between them - when he got his ass handed to him by another woman. Especially when she and he both knew...it had been an intentional chain of events.
Considering the fact that the A-1 hadn't killed him but merely demoted him for misplacing the lives of his elite unit, the way Noel had set him up actually didn't turn out as badly as it could have. Still, it wasn't the end result that made him angry. It was the fact that he knew she'd intended for things to go badly by NOT telling him who's men they were - probably hoping that Rudy would end up blabbing too much and get choked through the phone by Patten. During their clandestine relationship over the years, Quin worked very hard to put up an intricate facade of submission towards his partner, allowing her to feel important and in control of him. While at the same time, he'd subtly manipulated her with her desire for him, allowing Rudy the freedom to do whatever he wanted if he remained close and pretended to be her boy toy when it was convenient to do so.
It worked to keep things running smoothly and it kept Rudy comfortable in his cushy position as an A-3. The fact that she'd deliberately manipulated a situation in order to make him look bad in front of a superior, meant that she'd caught onto his game and was willing to fight back. And that was not good, especially now that he was a lower rank than her. Going behind her back and turning his attentions to manipulating someone else this soon would only backfire - she could be a crazy, possessive bitch, sometimes - so for the moment...he was stuck...with her.
At least she wasn't here and he could start formulating a new plan on how to move things forward. With Patten and Stephanie gone - and Steph ready to slice his throat before she'd let him talk to her again - he'd have to think of something else to eventually get back on top. If Noel knew the rules to the games he played with her head, it would be harder to use her to climb that ladder again. No doubt the demotion was planned as well and she'd want to keep him firmly in her pocket from now on, instead of letting him run around on his own out in the field. Shit! He was totally gonna miss Arisia this year!
Finally, gathering enough of his wits to actually consciously return to the room, he set his sights on the big guy whom he had yet to hear a single word from - probably some moderately low-level lackey who they kept around to act as muscle. He definitely looked the part of a lumbering moron. But! He was someone new to talk to!
Getting slowly to his feet, staying hunched over as his shoulder and head screamed foul obscenities all along his nerve endings, he let out a hissed breath and finally straightened his back, shaking his head and swaying before turning to the giant - fuck! Wow! GIANT! - with his dorky grin. "Low blood sugar, heh," he said with a smug nod, acting as if he DIDN'T have a plum stuck to his face where his right eye should be. "I tell ya, it's just not a good week until you're sent to the hospital for blunt force trauma after a violent encounter with a psychotic woman. But don't tell my Lead that I said that. Speaking of, gotta find a phone. Dark Lady will wanna hear about where the target's run off to." It would help if he actually knew, but he could make a few guesses based on their last hours together.
His normally rapid fire voice came out with a slight wavering tone, like something hinged was squeaking loosely in his throat, but it did not impede the excited mode of speaking that he usually adopted. And his one usable eye, surrounded by purpled and blackened flesh but not as swollen as the right, blinked hyper-alertly as he looked around, not seeming to notice or care about the drying streaks of gore coming from his nose and temple. Rudy's voice only came to a halt as he peered around, his eye brightening as it fell upon his shoe and he stumbled over to it, taking several minutes to bend over and pick it up without losing his uneven footing.
"Heh, I bet that shit looked awesome, yeah?" he said, gesturing with his sneaker at the taller man. "Hey, are you on the Stewart case too?" Not a real question because he didn't wait for an answer. "Have you ever seen her - Steph - follow through with that hand-jugular thing? Oh...my Gawd...dude! Never in my life have I ever seen a more beautiful woman covered in blood and enjoying herself so immensely, I kid you not. Definitely something to see before you die." That last statement was accompanied by a few deliberate pokes to the guy's arm and an excited nod as if he'd suggested trying a delicious meal at a well-known restaurant.
And just because he couldn't help himself, he leaned in a little and asked in a conspiratorial whisper, "So...how long has Patten been tapping that? Did it start recently or have they been together for a while? Honestly, don't know much about the guy, but he seemed to have a bit of a stick up his ass the last time I talked to him. And now..." he glanced in the direction Stephanie went, gesturing with his thumb and cocking a displeased eyebrow at the lackey. "Kinda lame. I'm a bit disappointed, you know? Totally expected to get the Darth Vader treatment or something. Either Steph lobbed off his balls in just a few hours or he was a bit of a pansy to begin with. All talk and no action--pfffttt! And I'm not surprised with the way the guy went on - playing badass one minute, then flipping sunshine the next. Can you say, psycho? Course, I wouldn't blame him, seeing what she ended up doing to Graninger."
He made a small, vague circular motion in the air with his finger - also decorated with drying streams of blood splatter - and rolled his eyes with a knowing grin. "All Agency women. Same story over and over and the madness is catching." It wasn't like the information was useful to him now, so until it became necessary to report back to his Lead - Gawd! He freaking hated being an A-5! - a little gossip couldn't hurt. The two obviously weren't hiding it - holding hands in public and using terms of endearment like "Pup" - so everybody had to know something about it. And Patten was at the highest rank; no doubt everybody had something bad to say about him.
All these thoughts of having to eventually confront Noel, and trash talking Stephanie and Mr. Patten were eventually quieted and subdued when he started to think of his target again. Ozzie. This was probably the longest he'd ever been without his phone - which had a built-in tracking system that monitored the specific, spontaneous combustion patterns that she was known for - and it felt really weird not to be able to just reach into his pocket and peek at where she currently was on his radar. Even during the different ComicCons and card game Tournaments he stopped at on his "chase", he always kept an ear out for her location, plotting where he could meet up with her next to surprise her.
Not to say that he was anywhere near as obsessed about the case as Noel was - she was the actually transfer buddy - but he liked to keep everything in control as much as he was able. If he was going to play hooky while pretending to do his job, it was necessary to be on top of things all the time, lest an actual explanation became necessary. And in such situations, it helped if he always knew more about her whereabouts than those asking the questions. It hadn't ever come up and even Noel kept interrogations to the minimum, but it never hurt to have back-up.
But now he was completely without any of that knowledge that kept him from getting into trouble and it left him feeling a bit empty and anxious. Had she made it past the Agents in the restaurant okay? Noel certainly hadn't been futzing around when she'd sent that fucking army down upon them - but last he'd heard even the 20 Agents left outside were dead and Noel certainly would have said something if she'd captured Oz. It was like those transfer Agents had a disorder; pissing their pants excitedly and unable to contain themselves with anything regarding their cases - and Stephanie's behavior only emphasized and carried such assertions to their rightful conclusions.
Noel was stuck back at the base, waiting for updates from him and probably wouldn't be aware of it until the last possible moment if Ozzie had been wounded - meaning, she wouldn't know a damn thing until he saw fit to tell her, and him currently without his phone... And those Agents had been equipped with guns. If Osono was hurt or shot she wouldn't go to a hospital because of the threat of hidden Agents - he'd done a pretty good job of slipping a few Agents here and there into police and government uniforms enough to make her wary of authority, further isolating her. So, depending on where exactly she might have gotten a bullet wound...she might be okay, for a while...
It was all stupid. Unlikely imaginings and getting worried over nothing. That was the concussion talking - he'd gotten beaten in the head area enough today that his brain was probably resembling hamburger right about now - and it might be a good idea to wait to think about these and other concerns until a doctor got a good look at him. "Any idea where the hospital is in this place?" he asked the mammoth Agent, scratching the back of his head idly and smiling crookedly. "I need like, some serious Hulk bandaids and pain killers and a new change of clothes - these ones are totally wearing me. Literally, heh."
***
As soon as she made it through the door, she paused only to turn the lock in place, a blur in the mirror as she rushed for a stall, instantly on her knees before the porcelain throne that awaited her there. Nausea shook through her whole body along with labored gasps as she tried to keep the feeling at bay, fear quaking through her fingers as she pressed against the metal walls of her prison for support. Stephanie tried not to think, but the situation she'd just left behind, like a delayed shadow, followed her into the room and she whimpered as a gag rippled through her.She was alone. There's the Pup. Doesn't count. Nothing but a low-level computer geek. She was alone. Not only that, but she was setting Jason, the one person she truly cared about other than herself, gently into the lion's mouth and turning her back. Running away. Just like Richard did to her...
It was different. The two were not the same. Still she couldn't escape the similarities after everything she'd done with him and after all she'd said. Their promises... He would be fine. He was strong and smart. He lived through Alexander twice already and he would do it again. Jean had supposedly lived through Alexander a few times too... In her mind she got an image of Alexander with lightning bolts shooting from his eyes piercing and melting through Jason's goggles--
A dry heave shuddered through her body as she leaned over the bowl, her esophagus violently peeling itself inside out, but nothing came up. Not having eaten or drunk a damn thing since the last time she'd been in this position there was nothing left inside her, her stomach rumbling with an echoed emptiness as the intensity of the urge subsided and she sat back a little. Gasping, tears streaming down her face, she looked up at the ceiling, a lonely bulb hovering up above her little enclosed space. Feebly, she was trying to cling to Master's words, the things that he'd said making her feel good and happy inside despite the harsh reality of what he'd commanded her to do.
Master said that she could do it without him and now that Gwen was most certainly here and alive, everything inside her clicked into motion, ready to get back onto the right path. Her destiny. What she'd been hunting and craving for four straight years, her life and everything that was inside her disappearing down a drain while she waited for this final moment of fulfillment. But she didn't want to. Not without him. Not when his life was at risk. She felt like she was sitting at the card table, pushing Jason forward, lying on a pile of chips, while Master juggled the dice in his massive hands. Stephanie was putting everything into the pile with the certainty that he could command the cubes to fall exactly how he wanted them to, based on the hope that whatever he intended was good for her too, rather than setting herself on the pile of chips with her partner.
No. Of course. Master was beautiful and full of grace and despite his magnificent claims to evil, he would keep his word to her. He promised. Alexander wouldn't hurt Jason so long as he did as he was told and at least appeared to help the ex-Agent in his attempts to get his body back. A willing and able Jason meant a happy and non-violent Alexander. As Benoit's scathing words came back to her, another image flashed in her mind of Jason falling from Alexander's grip, collapsing lifelessly on the ground with scorched and smoking holes where his beautiful eyes should be.
"No! Please, stop!" she whimpered sorrowfully as she bent back over the bowl, her hands plunging into her hair to keep the flaxen curtain from her face.
After a few moments of her stomach debating whether to abuse her some more, roiling like an unhinged sea inside her body, it finally retreated back again leaving her with a deep, grating headache in it's place. Running her hand through her hair and letting out a heavy breath through pursed lips, her fingers stopped as they hit a speed bump of tangles. Raking her fingers through the tiny snarl, forcing it open, she blinked hazily when her hand came away with a thick net of blonde hair capturing the appendages. Staring blankly at it for a minute, she rapidly swiveled her fingers to remove the hair-glove and deposited it into the still clear toilet bowl where her light strands stuck to the surface of the water.
How odd... Her hair was normally healthy and sleek, with no split ends and didn't break very easily - she used special products ordered from overseas and worked hard to take care of it. Blonde hair, she mused. In just a short while she'd be a brunette. Oh, how she longed for that. Hours spent back in her base looking over a dozen high-quality, candid photos of Gwen with her thick, dark brown locks swept up in a messy bun while she puttered around her apartment, or spilling over her shoulders in loose wavy curls while she was out in public. Wanting that hair rather than her thin, bone straight, blonde mop - as well-cared for as it was, it was merely a part of a superficial hygiene regime that put forth an air of professionalism and untouchability - wanting to run her hands through that dark-colored thickness on HER scalp. To own it.
And it would finally be hers, everything just within reach. Breathing deeply and wiping her face clear of tears, she stood within the stall using the walls for leverage and wobbled slightly as she stared down at nothing. She needed to focus on Gwen now. There was nothing she could do for Jason, no goodbye she could offer now without opening a can of worms in front of Master and anybody else around. The only thing left for that situation was to hope that he would survive Alexander for a third time and that he wouldn't hate her when they met again in Elmira. But she couldn't go out there and meet Gwen like this - a sloppy, weeping mess because she missed her partner already. She needed absolute focus.
Ignoring the throbbing pain in her temple and the still present illness in her gut, Stephanie tucked her hair behind her ears and reached into her back pocket where the small box Master gave her still rested, taking it out and turning it over in her hands. It was either this or Jason standing by her side, because as much as she was grateful for Master's belief in her, she couldn't do this without him. But she was going to have to. Stumbling to the long sink, her attention focused on the carton, sniffling and trying not to think about Jason and failing, she opened it up and started to set things out on the counter by the sink.
That was when the first knocks came and she ignored the Pup and his impatience. Just a minute! Just one...minute...and she'd be fine. She'd be perfect without him. Neither of the vials left were Atropytamine and she tried not to remember what happened to it or the advice that Jason gave her back at the airport. Picking up the vial of a similar, stronger drug, Lachesis, she paused when the Puppy's excited voice came through the door.
Jason? He was outside? He'd followed her? Her eyes grew cloudy for a moment and she pressed the vial to her lips thoughtfully, trying to think of what she should do. If she'd wanted a chance to actually explain to him, to actually TALK to him before she left, here it was. But she was immobilized by the necessity of using the drug in her hands - she wasn't going to stop, she couldn't, but if she left the room to see him, she wasn't coming back in here either. There wouldn't be another moment to stop and take a break once she was moving and sweeping Gwen off to where she needed to be. If she let her guard down for even a moment, with how powerful Gwen must have become by now - if Rudy's condition was any sort of reasonable clue - it would be all Stewart would need to destroy her.
There was another soft knock and a shiver ran through her, knowing instinctively that it was Jason's hand on the door now, imagining him standing just on the other side of it. When he said her name, a sudden warmth filled her, loving the way his voice shaped the syllables, before she scowled slightly and clicked her tongue at his self-conscious correction. She hated and loved that. Loved that even after everything, he was still stuck on being reserved and holding her at arms length; always so dedicated to the work they were trying to do, loyal to the Agency to the end. But she hated how it kept getting in the way, building mazes and walls between them.
There was a bit of silence and she drifted to the door to be closer to him, leaning slightly against it with her face pressed to it's smooth surface and holding the vial in her lightly curled fingers. What did he want to say? What was so important that he'd disobey her orders to stay where he was? What was so strong that he had to leave the presence of the A-1 to get it out to her before she skipped onto a plane and even more distance spread between them?
When the words came, an exhalation of breath left her and her hand slid across the surface of the door, her eyes searching through the thickness trying to find hidden messages in his voice. That was it? Surely there was more... Stephanie hated it when he called her 'boss' and kept himself professionally distant. But now she hated it even more and she silently cursed the Agency when she felt him draw away, a physical coldness descending upon her when she knew he was no longer right there beside the door. If that was all, then she wasn't going to look like a fool or make HIM look like a fool by rushing out there, sobbing, clinging and professing her love. Not when it would only make him feel awkward after what little he'd offered - or was willing to offer - in return.
Goodbye, then, Jason.
Turning away from the door, she went back to the sink, sniffling lightly and breathing heavily as she pulled one of the thin, small syringes from the case. Tossing the hair from her face and firming her lips in a grim line, she began to fill it with the softly yellow and clear liquid. Just like before in the jet bathroom, Stephanie caught a glimpse of her reflection, directly in her line of sight with the vial held before her, but this time..she stopped and set them both down as she stared. Green eyes, bright and vibrant and encircled by darkened flesh, set in a pale mask met her gaze. Because that's what it looked like; a mask of flesh clinging to her skull. Not nearly as extreme as a concentration camp victim, but everything was distorted beyond her normally smooth, vibrant and youthful features.
Her thin, delicately pointed nose looked almost beak-like in the middle of her face and there was something hollow and yet bloated about her cheeks and forehead. Her eyes were a little sunken and shadowed by her thin, light eyebrows, and the only things that had any color left at all were her eyes and her lips, seeming to bulge and swell from the rest of her face with their obscene amount of green and red. And her hair hung limp and almost choking white about her shoulders, clearly in desperate need of a comb or water or...something to bring it back to life. Licking her strawberry lips hesitantly, she reached a hand forward and touched the shiny surface, her brow crinkling as she searched her features for anything she recognized. Strangely, there WAS something familiar about the way she looked now - she resembled her mother the last time Stephanie saw her. Which said a lot because the woman had been pushing fifty at the time and her body had been torn to shreds by her chronic alcoholism.
She jerked slightly and blinked her watery eyes in surprise when another rapid knocking came at the door and Gary's muffled voice came through the barrier again. Jason...he...he was still here? And he wanted to talk to her. He was waiting to speak directly to her. The hand that touched the mirror came back towards her to rest on her cheek as she tried to think quickly, looking down at the things set up on the sink. The syringe, half filled with pale yellow liquid, glared hauntingly up at her and for a moment or two, she hesitated when she thought about what he would think of her if she decided to take it. But just like back at the Hammondsport airport, she didn't HAVE a choice here. Master's orders prevented him from coming with her...but Gwen... She needed something to help her get through this.
He wanted to talk to her... Everything seemed so confused and hard lately, but her thoughts drifted back to when she'd confronted him by the cells, giving him the opportunity to fully leave her and get everything he wanted back. He'd chosen her. Jason, the man who for the whole time she'd known him, being concerned and destroyed by the imminent loss of his precious suit, defined by and proud of his perfect record and all he'd worked for, had rejected the chance to get most of it back just to be with her. When she'd given him the order to stay, she'd been restrained by the situation and unable to speak freely to him about what she wanted and what she needed from him. Now, without the A-1 breathing down her neck - at least, she hoped he wasn't out there, waiting with Jason and Pup - she had the opportunity to tell him all that had been caged in her throat at that moment.
Tucking her hair behind her ears again and sniffling firmly, she finished filling the syringe with Lachesis, again at 10 ml but twice as strong as the Atropytamine, and stuck it into her arm. Breathing unevenly and swaying on her feet, she recapped the needle with a very deliberate movement and tucked it back into the case with the vial, depositing it all back into her pants pocket. It was taking longer to take effect than the Atropytamine had, but she could feel it working, slowly each door of emotion closing inside her with heavy slams as her pupils shrank to mere pinpricks.
Then she was turning from the horrible stranger in the mirror and adjusting her black tank top and smoothing her hands over her pants before unlocking the bathroom door and opening it. Emerald eyes were filled with nothing but Jason as she stepped from the room, the door falling closed at her back, Pup and anything else forgotten as merely a foot separated her from her partner. For half a minute, she just stared, not saying anything and not looking like she was going to, the drug in her system humming through her veins and pulling all her internal strings tight. Then she was stepping forward, closing the inches of distance between them, resting against him with her head on his shoulder and releasing a long sigh.
"Hold me...just for a minute..." she said sadly, her voice half-muffled against him.
Standing there for a few minutes, her hands resting close against his sides, she rubbed her face gently against his chest, breathing in deeply the smell of him. The panic and nausea that had been plaguing her ever since she'd left his presence, instantly fled with the feel of his muscled and warm body this close to her and filled her with a renewed strength and calm. Lightly humming the tune to "Wanted, Dead or Alive", she went through a few bars before she was able to lift her head and actually look at him again.
"Luck," she said, nodding slowly and growing thoughtful. He probably would prefer if this was a professional goodbye...which she hated. "I accept your well wishes and offer them to you in return. I really need you to stay here now... Yet again, we cannot depend on Benoit for anything. It'll be the apartment all over again and he'll come out in the end snobbily saying 'Oh, vwell, I meint to doo zat.'" And her mocking French accent was accompanied by a sardonic roll of her eyes, her expression firming as she locked eyes with him. "I can't go through that again. It was infuriating enough the first time, but this is it. I have her and I'm not going to lose her. Once we're together, the EDP should be more than enough to neutralize Gwen's powers completely. The only reason this could fail is if Alexander gets between us again, because for whatever reason, whether it's love or not, he is attached to my target and he WILL get in the way if we allow it."
Looking down, she impulsively reached for his hand, holding it in hers and running her fingers over his knuckles musingly. She was unhooking his glove now and slowly slipping the fabric from his fingers, her eyebrows arching briefly as actual skin came into view. Once the glove was removed completely, she was running her fingers over his bare skin, smoothing over the back of his hand and his palm, reveling in the pulsing heat of his flesh. Pressing his hand to cradle her face, her eyes finally came back up to his face as she whispered, "I wish you would touch me like you own me..."
Everything came to her through a haze, the feel of him so close and warm causing deadened and drained emotions to flutter and surge within her like bubbles in soda water. Given the actual freedom to express herself, it came out stifled and blurted, urges deep within shoving emotions to be expressed and grabbing them back at the last minute, releasing shadowed versions of them. Her breathing was soft and restrained and she closed her eyes as she rubbed her lips to caress across his fingers, allowing herself this one quiet moment of impropriety. His skin...Jason's skin... She'd touched him before of course, and there was plenty of proof of that under the collar of his suit. But this was different. This was almost like HE was touching her.
"Jean wasn't suppose to die," she said soberly, moving his hand off of her face and looking down at it held in both of hers. Again, she remembered her fight with Benoit and the implication that her partner would become another victim of Alexander, but the urge to weep about it escaped her. "Something went wrong and he underestimated the ex-Agent. Something which Benoit has done for years and seems intent on repeating. Part of me wants to believe it had a purpose, that he was just trying to feel out the entirety of what his target was capable of. But enough is enough. Now we're depending on him too and I'm not willing to allow this to become a part of some other, BIGGER plan that involves hunting them both down again.
"We have a chance to win and this part is absolutely crucial," she was looking down at his hand again, stroking his palm idly. "You're the only one I trust to make sure it all falls into place. To make sure that our mission and case succeeds. And I have absolute faith in your ability to do this. But... you're important to me." Stephanie looked up finally, fully in the grip of the Lachesis and unable to shake her flat tone of voice, the mask of the EDP slipping over her features and keeping them immobile and expressionless. "I hope I don't need to explain why - if I DO, after everything... then I don't know how to fucking help you or make my feelings clearer. You're not just your rank and you're not just your suit."
She briefly brought his hand up to her lips and kissed his knuckles before releasing him and handing his glove back. "Do not make the same mistake Jean did. Alexander might be an idiot, but he's a wild dog if nothing else. When we start thinking that we know exactly what he'll do, that's when we lose. I need you to promise me..." Her eyes drifted to finally notice Gary standing nearby before locking once more with Jason's. "The Pup and I will be waiting in Elmira with a bottle of tequila to celebrate. I want you to promise me that you'll meet us there. Don't call me your boss and just say the words as if you have to. I want to hear you say my name, the way I love to hear you say it and promise me that I won't be drinking alone."
Even through the now fully activated fog of the drug in her system, Stephanie desired more than anything to hear those words from him. With Benoit's cryptic threats still buzzing in her head, and Master sounding almost like he was just trying to placate her.. she would only believe he'd be alright if she heard it from Jason's lips. Because truthfully, only he could control what he would or wouldn't do and he was the only one who's words meant anything to her anymore.
Lachesis was quickly strangling every emotion she had, gutting and disemboweling every feeling and internal sensation - the berserker version of Atropytamine - so the moment of guilt she had for taking the thing was quickly silenced before it had a chance to fully register consciously. He would understand. He'd said it himself back in the car - the case was what was important and they all did what they had to in order to make sure everything happened according to plan.
***
There was one very big problem that Gwen was starting to realize about her original plan as strength slowly returned to her body and mind. Although the first part of the plan was working great - Todd and Miss Kraft were more busy trying to undo buttons while they did the tongue tango, than worrying about whether Gwen was conscious or not - and it gave her plenty of time to get most of her wits and feeling back in her limbs from whatever awful thing Karen had injected her with.But now...she couldn't get them to stop. For a few minutes, she completely abandoned them to doing their own thing, the suggestion already strong enough that it no longer needed her attention to maintain it, and she began moving her arms within her restraints trying to get them loose enough that she could maybe slip a hand free and unbuckle herself. Not working. Whoever tied these on her had obviously done so with the threat of gravity suddenly reversing itself in the very near future being the forefront of their concern. Not only were the straps across her body thick and tight but placed strategically over different parts of her arms, keeping her from bending her elbows properly. Okay...
So, she tried to see if she could somehow reach the tray that Karen left nearby - along with the syringe and vial of knock-out drug the Agent woman had originally used, there were also bandages, surgical needle and thread and a scalpel - which, Gwen tried not to think about the possible reasons that was set out right now. But the position of the tray itself was about level with her shoulder and up by her head. Unless she quickly developed a go-go-gadget jaw, there was no possibility of nudging it close enough where she could maybe get the scalpel to use somehow.
Finally, with a soft groan in her throat, she turned back to the two lovebirds, picking up the threads of suggestion from before and trying to twist them so one or both would suddenly think it was a good idea to let her go. It was something she'd learned pretty quickly during her time with Rudy that if the thought wasn't already present in the person's mind, then there was nothing that she could build upon or use. And despite the small thought having entered both of their minds at some point, she found herself battling a wave of chemistry that could not be stifled or quieted. She'd have better luck trying to block a tsunami using her own body as a "wall" - which, as she attempted to wrestle the threads and make them calm down, it eventually became exactly like that.
The force of nature couldn't be undone and the more she tried to slip in thoughts like, Hmm, mebbe I should release that gal ova thah befoh scooping dis lady; just so's she's not stuck thah fah houhs without a bathroom break ohr sumthin' or Gosh! I really wanna show this guy what's under my uniform...but it's really awkward with that girl watching us. Damn! I should probably just untie her and make her go away! the more annoyed the two seemed to get with her presence. But only in a slightly neglectful and ignorant way, rather than the extremes that Gwen was hoping for. Meaning, they both broke their lip smacking long enough to glance in Gwen's direction before hurrying over to the supply closet and joyfully locking themselves inside it.
Another, louder, frustrated groan ripped from Gwen's throat and she plopped her head back down on the cot in defeat. As she heard Karen's muffled giggles come from within, she whispered a prayer that they'd knock over something fumy and pass out in there just before "it" happened and end up waking with bad tastes in their mouths from the experience. Or something just as unpleasant to destroy the romance she'd unleashed upon them.
Up to this point, Gwen hadn't really ventured much outside the room psychically, trying not to alert anybody of her presence but more...afraid of finding Stephanie's signature and unwittingly letting the woman know she was here and awake. The only possible reason Gwen could think of for her not being here, leering over her was 1. she probably was unaware her target was here or 2. she DID know but was busy elsewhere and had left Karen with her bottles of drugs and syringes as a safeguard(which did not seem like a Stephanie idea at all, so it was really just possibility number one). And the longer she could keep Stephanie busy with whatever it was she was currently preoccupied with doing, the better. An involuntary shiver ran through her to remember that awful static and how alone and disoriented it made her feel and she was filled with an even stronger desire to immediately remove herself from this place before she was forced to encounter it again.
Pushing the intense fear from her mind, she started to hesitantly reach out beyond the room, looking for somebody who might be open to her snares, keeping herself focused as she touched upon different minds in the rooms nearby. There was one fellow who seemed like a possibility - an A-10 who ran maintenance on computer systems for others in his department, and had a crush on the pretty Kraft, who might be convinced to abandon his work station to pay her a quick visit - but Gwen was suddenly distracted by a familiar signature stalking in the hallway. It wasn't someone she immediately recognized and she found herself going crazy trying to place where she knew them from, before worry set in. They, whoever they were, were walking straight to this room!
Before Gwen really had a second longer to prepare for it, a woman appeared in the doorway, clacking highheels coming to a smooth stop with hands clinging lightly to the door frame. Honey blonde, shoulder-length hair with pixie bangs gave the rest of the short woman's appearance an almost girlish feel, especially as dark, doe-like eyes looked around the room, searching for something. When they fell on Gwen however, recognition brightened within the large orbs and her plush, rose-bud lips curved into a playful smile, cute, chipmunk-esque teeth barely visible between them.
"I know you..." the woman said in a pretty British accent, her body moving with a natural coquettish seductiveness as she walked into the room. Cocking her head curiously to the side as she came to stand over the cot, she gave Gwen an avid, too-hungry look, forcing her to shrink back as much as the straps would allow. "The grand...Gwendolyn Stewart. Am I right?"
Gwen didn't respond, but the woman smiled again anyway, obviously intensely pleased to see her for some reason that she wasn't really sure she wanted to know the root of. And again, although she couldn't feel anything inside the woman's head, blocked off with a controlled intensity that rivaled the corpse-like signature of the odd "Mr. Patten", there was something familiar about her mental signature that was just at the tip of Gwen's tongue. Who the hell was she?
"I've been hearing a lot about you for the past two days. Quite a little trouble maker, aren't you?" The mysterious young woman had turned her attention from Gwen to the small tray beside the cot, her fingers lightly tracing over first the needle and then the scalpel, pleased by the metallic textures of them. Even when she wasn't looking at her, Gwen got the feeling the woman was still studying her, analyzing her every expression and movement. Needless to say, it was not only creepy but extremely threatening to be in her presence.
There seemed to come an end to her child-like joy and she turned back to Gwen with a different intensity filling her large dark brown eyes. "Where is he?" When Gwen blinked at her with a lack of comprehension, she seemed to loom closer without moving an inch, suddenly taking on a spider-like aspect with Gwen playing the part of the fly caught in a web. "He's most certainly not dead, pretty little psychic. He's here somewhere and if I know anything about the little pillock, it's that he's extremely lucky. So...not dead, then where?"
Quin.
Not Gwen's thought but a harsh mental pulse from the woman before her. Everything Gwen had ever felt from Stephanie in regards to thoughts of herself - the all-encompassing hunger, and violent, soul-consuming obsession - were magnified ten-fold when the man's name drifted to Gwen's consciousness. And along with it, there was a hate and lust that struck deep into the most primitive levels a person had in their psyche, all swirling around just beneath the surface in this woman's head and focused with targeted precision at Rudolph Quin--
"Noel...?" Gwen breathed, her eyes widening as she remembered the few text message conversations that Rudy had engaged in during the time she'd known him. Even then, Gwen hadn't been able to reach through the phone lines to the woman's head very far, but it was unmistakably the same person. And Noel smiled at her in response, pleased to be recognized.
"You know of me? Does he think of me often?" she asked sweetly, something sick and coy entering her eyes at the mere implication that the man was as obsessed with her as she was with him.
"No, actually. Hardly ever. And usually not in a flattering light either..." That instantly hardened the girlish woman's features, suddenly straightening her back and looking off somewhere in the distance thoughtfully. Gwen really tried not to eavesdrop, but the walls that had been there before weren't as rock solid as they originally seemed to be, and now thoughts were spilling out of her and flowing over Gwen like thick, warm blood, gushing from Rudy's veins--
"You tell me where he is right now." The horrific, gory fantasies were silenced and Gwen gasped a little, looking up at a very stoic Noel, once again guarded and statuesque. "It's bad enough he had to get involved with this stupid side-quest in the first place, abandoning his, MY case because he's too foolish to grab the right girl. But now this delay is taking too long and I'm done playing games. I followed a trail of blood droplets and bodies straight to here and I found the car he stole, down below - a wedding? Really? So, I know he's wounded and I know the malevolent Eric Patten is still aiming for him - you don't misuse a superior Agent's resources so carelessly without grievous repercussions - but I can't be arsed to search the entire bloody base before such consequences come to fruition. I'm sure you've noticed, and if your bruised state is any indication, there is no loyalty across cases, especially not with me." There was a pause for a sweet smile that no longer held any measure of sweetness it had before. "If you don't want something awful to happen to you, then you'll point me in the correct direction, immediately. Understand?"
This was the Agent who was after Osono? No wonder they had yet to catch her. No offense to Ozzie at all, who could probably do just as well if there were actual, competent people hunting her, but Rudy wasn't the only one running around with his thumb up his ass when it came to his case. Noel was way too concerned about Quin for anything else to ever enter into her sphere of focus, and that in itself was kind of hard to understand; what did she see in him? Alright, so it was clear the woman was off her rocker and willing to do anything to get her man back under control where he belonged, so any more brutal "honesty" was probably not smart if she wanted to test Noel's dedication to her threats. But there was something remarkably unbalanced about her that left her open to certain manipulations - and no, Gwen was not about to reach out and actually search for Rudy. He had an aversion to her mentally touching him and might alert whoever he was with if such a thing were to occur. So, careful, but hit her with something hard...
"He's with the woman who's been chasing me," even as her voice shook fearfully, her tone was pregnant with implications and she licked her lips nervously while Noel digested that information.
There was a long silence, Noel visibly bristling at mention of the other female Agent, obviously familiar with Stephanie to some degree. "Oh?" she said softly, no longer looking at Gwen but fully immersed in imagining what a meeting between Rudy and Stephanie actually entailed. It was a mixture of something Gwen expected to see in films like Fight Club and Unfaithful and she instantly retreated from the jealous fantasies before they overwhelmed her completely. Jesus! Was there anybody on the Agency payroll who didn't have severe mental and/or emotional issues?
Each pause that Noel took to fantasize really only lasted a breath of a second, but felt like they went on forever with the blonde woman staring off at nothingness, trying to come to grips with the fact that her secret boyfriend was and had been plotting to meet up with his old flame this whole time. Would Gwen do the polite thing and inform her that Rudy really was an idiot and had been planning to blackmail March and thus, was probably dead if he actually followed through? Would she inform her that Stephanie currently had a fixation on her own partner that kept her from seeing anyone else as remotely interesting or deserving of life, including Gwen herself? No. So, she instead watched as the gears of Noel's tortured psyche worked to put things together, building up to a climax that was shattered by a muffled female laugh coming from the supply closet.
Gwen's heart actually went out to the woman in sympathy as those girlish features cast a very sorrowful look at the closet in the corner of the room - which was only tempered by the odd, twitchy tic Noel displayed, when one eye blinked half a second quicker than the other while she continued to stare. Even without having a clear view of what was in the woman's head, Gwen could see it all registering across her youthful features - the metaphorical peanut butter on the mouse trap Gwen had thrown out being eaten up greedily as she put two and two together. Rudy's clearly wounded state, yet absence from the main room of the sick bay. Stephanie's target lying unsupervised when Noel herself had witnessed the thousands of collected files that detailed her rabid obsession with Gwendolyn Stewart. And...even more dubious rustling sounds coming from the supply closet.
Eyes glazed and watery, wearing the saddest look Gwen had ever seen in her life - emphasized by the woman's almost virginal features - frozen in place by the muted vocalization of what she thought was her lover having an affair, she stood completely defenseless by Gwen's cot. Now was the time for the mouse trap to snap shut.
"You should let me go," Gwen said softly from her prone position, her voice echoing in the room like ripples on a pond's surface.
As soon as Noel's attention was drawn away from the closet, a few of the defenses weakly stood up, but Gwen had already inserted herself past them and wasn't going to be dislodged by anything the woman did. "Why...why would I do a silly thing like that?" she asked, her voice wavering weakly, trying to get control of herself and failing as a man's muffled voice burst out in excited exclamation from the closet.
"Because, it'd be the perfect thing to get back at them both. Just imagine it, the two of them celebrating in there, thinking they've won, thinking that they've gotten one over on you, only to emerge and find it all disappeared in an instant. How dare she get what you've been waiting for without even having to work for it! How dare he keep you on hold for years with constant promises only to abandon you for that slut! And after all you've done for him!"
Gwen could see everything, all the memories Noel had of years of covering up Quin's mistakes, years of whipping him into submission and then pumping him up, making him her prized little toy. Years of aching for her new special powers and being denied by repeated stupidity over and over, with barely veiled hints that he was romantically involved with her target. In truth, Gwen was saying nothing new but practically reading from Noel's internal teleprompter that she kept stifling again and again, trying to reason herself out of taking any extreme action against him. No more. Now she was being forced to hear it all said aloud and Gwen gladly worked through the woman's pain to make sure the suggestion hammered home, breaking this mouse's fucking neck.
"All those sacrifices! All of those risks! And he KNOWS what will happen to you if anyone were to find out everything you've done for his benefit! Does he care? They're both laughing at you. SHE is laughing at you, getting everything you deserve. STEALING everything that is rightfully yours! Releasing me will be the worst thing that could ever befall them both - imagine their feeble attempts to explain it, to try and assign blame, tearing at each other in the process. Stephanie will be left scrabbling to fix it as I disappear into the aether and Quin will come rushing back to your arms, a wounded and sorry failure. Both of them humbled and punished for their ignorance and arrogance."
The scary part of this wasn't the fact that at any moment, Noel might decide to actually check the closet and find not Stephanie and Rudy but two nobodies, thus breaking the whole charade. It was the fact that even if Gwen hadn't been pulling her strings so strongly, the desire to do such a thing didn't enter Noel's mind and she willingly agreed to Gwen's proposed plan of revenge without one ounce of proof that any of it was based on truth. It was the combination of the massive amount of power that Gwen felt coming from herself completely overwhelming the female Agent and Noel's own imminent emotional breakdown and vulnerability that made her shiver in revulsion as the Agent began to unbuckle her straps.
All of them - she was sure of it now. The entire Agency was actually run by escaped mental patients. It was the only explanation that made sense...
***
The response he gave was not what she expected. Well, the first part was and Ozzie felt better that they now had a definitive plan of action for how things were gonna go down once they arrived. But the next part was a bit unsettling. Okay, so she was somewhat right in her joking analysis about the Agents. Whether that meant she should actually start worrying or not, she wasn't--wait. Did he just tell her to pull over?Probably his foot was hurting him again or something and she rolled her eyes while shaking her head. "No. Suck it up, big baby. We're not gonna stop for any more distractions, alright? We've wasted enough time as it--what!?" He was gonna what? "Why do you--?" but any questions she wanted to ask about what he was doing or why, were cut off as his seat flipped back and he was wiggling beyond her field of vision, forcing her to constantly whip her head around to keep an eye on the road while trying to look at him.
"What do you mean 'check on her'? I thought you said she wouldn't wake up until we got there!"
Alex wasn't listening, busily muttering to himself somewhat loudly as he fiddled around back there. She kept silent, trying to keep an eye on traffic while watching him in the rear view, cursing under her breath as he roughly nudged the back of her seat and half of his torso disappeared into the trunk. For a few minutes, she contemplated actually pulling over and sticking her nose back there in his business, but before she could make the decision to move over the appropriate number of lanes to reach the shoulder of the road, he was back, beaming at her and holding what looked like a pretty fancy cell phone.
Did he give her any sort of explanation NOW? No. But his muttering was definitely getting louder and she took a moment to actually look uncomfortable when he asked himself to explain things out loud and mentioned something about laughing at himself... Okay...kinda freakin' me out here, Alex.
The thought came too soon, especially when Alex's voice launched into an actual explanation of what he was doing but...it wasn't Alex's voice. Not only was the tone different, possessing a gravity that she hadn't heard from him before, but also the quality of it was different in a way that sounded like somebody else was in the car with them. But that wasn't the reason she needed to freak out again. No, that didn't come until he started talking openly to himself, switching audibly back and forth between the voice that she was familiar with and this other, new tone of voice that actually made him sound serious, like a man in control. And it didn't help things that the two were having a conversation right in front of her.
The entire situation set Osono's hair on end, but despite that, she stayed quiet and listened to what he was actually saying, slowly calming as she realized what she was witnessing. Alright, so, a little while ago when she'd reached her own conclusions about what was really going on, and all the implications therein, it hadn't really hit home until just now. It was real. Everything Alex had said about what these people could do and what they WANTED to do, was real. And holy shit! He knew that because...
When he finally stopped and turned to her for her opinion, she met his gaze before turning back to pay attention to the road, trying to wrestle through what he expected from her right now and what she actually wanted to say. She was actually grateful that he'd been thoughtful enough to include her up to this point... at least, she hoped that was what that was instead of someone just accidentally leaving the internal microphone on...
"So, they got to you..." her raspy, smoke-weathered voice was solemn as she finally spoke. "That's how you know what they plan to do to Gwen; because that's what they did to you." Alright, she felt the urge - the need - to actually say it out loud. "They put an Agent in your head."
Ozzie shook her head and glared out at the cars sharing the road with her. For some reason, saying it made it more real, but it didn't make things better. "How the hell do you freaking do that to somebody?" There wasn't any denying it either. What Gwen told her about him, back when she was "Stacy", wouldn't fly with what Ozzie was seeing. It wasn't just mental illness or whatever, but two very distinct and different people in there. She could hear it. Not only that, but back at that office building she saw the changes come over him - that really HADN'T been Alex!
And now...they were headed to an Agency headquarters or whatever, to jump right in the middle of their forces with one of their own on the opposing side. Again, she was struggling with her doubts about trusting him, new arguments springing up where old ones had died - so, Alex ACTUALLY had an Agent in his head and that Agent wanted to call some other Agent guy and figure out what their plans were, fully expecting this "Peter" to be honest with him about it? At least, that's what he said, and she had to sort of hope they didn't talk in code and alert this guy to what their little team was planning on doing. And then, when they got to Charlton, she was gonna be left alone for a bit while he did something he wouldn't explain but most likely had to do with either his foot or the Agent in his head. How did she even know that what he was planning to do would be good for Alex and Gwen? And despite the familiarity of their bantering, it was clear that Alex had reservations about trusting this guy as well, questioning everything he said as if he couldn't believe he was even considering the suggestion.
Suddenly she was feeling incredibly tired from all of this and she didn't know what to really expect from him anymore. Either of them - Alex and the Agent he'd apparently been hiding. On the one hand, she was somewhat confident in her ability to handle whatever he could throw at her, whether he ended up acting fishy during his phone call, or turned around and started issuing orders for Agents to attack her in Charlton - it didn't matter. She'd handle it all the same way - she'd blow like a fucking volcano and everybody would get to re-enact Pompeii with her. Easy.
On the other...although she hadn't given him much information about her weaknesses, she WAS kinda leery of what this guy knew and what he could possibly do with that information. No longer was she taking past situations as proof of his loyalty, but rather assuming that whatever he wanted to do, he couldn't because he was stuck in some guy's head. But despite his wariness, once this Agent explained things to Alex about the phone call, the guy willingly gave into the plan and seemed to accept it. Should she trust Alex and how he treated this guy? Could she trust Alex? He'd lied to her a bunch of times during this whole trip and now, suddenly, with the "appearance" of being open and honest about his little duality problem, she didn't know what to do with that. It was somehow more threatening than his made-up stories had been, where he was just a guy torn up about getting his psychic girlfriend into trouble.
Clinging to the fact that Alex was probably the one stable part of this whole thing - he had powers too, and no doubt he neither wanted the Agent in his head nor intended to be double crossed - she decided to trust Alex's judgment for now. Letting out a long, heavy breath, she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders wearily. "Questions? No, not really. I mean, you pretty much explained everything. And honestly, it seems like a good idea to talk to the guy in charge, to help us figure out if any of this will work or not - if you really think he'll be honest with you about it, although I don't really see why he would be." Unless he somehow thought they were still friends and were planning something together...
Osono grimaced like she had a bad taste in her mouth that she wanted to spit out, but shook her head wearily again. "Do what you gotta do. Make the call."
She ran a hand through her short blonde hair and contented herself with keeping her attention on the road for now, ready to keep an ear out for everything he had to say on this side of the phone - would he be offended if she demanded that he speak clearly and loudly while he called this Peter guy? Since 1. if he really WAS helping Alex and Gwen out and on their side and any verbal oddities would possibly alert Peter that he wasn't traveling alone and 2. if he wasn't, she wanted to use any whispering or muttering or odd backwards talk as an excuse to burn the inside of the car, she decided to keep that thought to herself. But then something did occur to her and she interjected before he could do or say anything else.
"What is your name? Not Alex's name, but your name. It'd make me feel better if I didn't have to refer to you as 'The Agent guy in Alex's head'. Your REAL name, please - quit fucking lying to me, thanks."
Guest- Guest
Part 1
by Tartra Mon May 02, 2011 3:39 am
SHE DID NOT LIKE THIS DESK. TOO WEAK. HER NAIL CUT A HOLE IN ITS WOOD EVERY TIME SHE TAPPED AND THE SOUND IT MADE AS IT DIED WAS PATHETIC. SHE DID NOT LIKE THIS CHAIR. TOO HARD. THE SEAT HAD NO SUPPORT AND ITS FRAGILE BACK BENT WHENEVER SHE LEANED ON THE CUSHION. HAD SHE WANTED A STOOL, SHE WOULD HAVE ASKED FOR ONE. SOMEONE WOULD PAY FOR THIS INFERIOR ARRANGEMENT, AND SHE KNEW WHO. THIS WAS PATTEN’S DOING. THAT SMUG IDIOT WOULD DO ANYTHING TO GET TO HER, WHETHER OR NOT IT HELD THE FLAIR HE SHOVED DOWN EVERYONE’S MOUTH, SOLELY OWING TO HER DANGLING HIS GIRLFRIEND OUT OF HIS REACH. IF SHE HAD NOT KEPT A CLOSE EYE ON HIM FROM THE INSTANT HE ARRIVED IN HER BUILDING, SHE WOULD HAVE ASSUMED HE SPENT EVERY MINUTE HERE GIGGLING ABOUT HIS ‘SENSATIONAL PLAN’ TO ‘RUIN’ HER FROM THE ‘BOTTOM UP’. THE LOWLY THOUGHT OF HIS VOICE SNICKERING – THE OLD ONE HE HAD STOLEN, BEFORE JEAN, WHO HAD NEVER SNICKERED IN THE ENTIRE TIME SHE HAD KNOWN HIM, UNLIKE THE INSUFFERABLE ASSHOLE PRANCING IN HIS SKIN – DROVE POISON THROUGH HER VEINS. THE ONE UNDERSTANDING THAT KEPT HER IN HER PLACE WAS HOW LAUGHABLY HE FOUGHT HIS TRUE WARS. PATTEN WAS A PERSON WHO WOULD DRAG A MAN THROUGH COAL TO PUNISH THE SLIGHTEST OFFENCE, BUT AFTER YEARS OF FIGHTING FOR CHARLOTTE, THE MOST HE HAD MANAGED WERE A FEW LETTERS, SECURITY PROBES... AND NOW A CHAIR. AND A DESK, BUT THE DESK STILL HAD ITS USES. THE DESK WOULD BE ROUND ONE.
AS FOR HER CAT, IT WAS HARDER TO SAY. THIS WAS A MAN WHO HAD NEVER SUPPORTED THEIR CAUSE BUT WHO HAD ALSO NEVER TURNED THEM IN. OTHER THAN GETTING HIM ON HER DESK, ANY DIRECT FORM OF INTERACTION HELD AN IMMENSE RISK. HE MET THE CORE CRITERIA – HATED PATTEN, KNEW THEIR ROLES, WAS EXTREMELY, EXTREMELY FRENCH – BUT DESPITE THE GOOD WORD PUT IN FOR HIM OVER THE YEARS, ONE STEADFAST CONCLUSION HAD BEEN REACHED: BENOIT WAS NOT LEAVING THE AGENCY AND THAT MADE HIM HER ENEMY. HER FRENCH ENEMY. VERY FRENCH. THE DESK WAS ALSO ROUND FIVE. AND SEVEN. AND TWELVE. REGARDLESS, THIS PUT HER IN A DELICATE POSITION. FROM WHAT SHE HAD GATHERED, ORDERS WERE ORDERS AND HE FOLLOWED THE HIERARCHY AS CLOSELY AS ANYONE. IF PATTEN HAD SENT HIM TO GUARD HER AS A SORT OF TETHER, THEN THE WORD OF AN A-2 WOULD NOT BE ENOUGH TO CHANGE HER PRETTY KITTY’S MIND. SHE HAD TO LOSE HIM IF SHE PLANNED ON ANY PROGRESS BEING MADE. HE WASN’T STUPID; HE WOULD HAVE TO ASK QUESTIONS, ESPECIALLY FOR WHY AN A-2 WOULD LEAVE HER BUILDING UNANNOUNCED, AND IF PATTEN HAD NOT ONLY TOLD HIM TO WATCH HER BUT REPORT, THEN HE MIGHT AS WELL HAVE BEEN ORDERED TO ATTACK. FORTUNATELY, HE HAD YET TO SHOW ANY SIGN OF THAT, MEANING ONE OF TWO THINGS: HE EITHER HAD NO IDEA WHAT SHE WAS DOING OR ELSE PATTEN DIDN’T. THERE WAS A CASE TO BE MADE FOR NEITHER KNOWING – THAT JACKASS HAD ENOUGH REASON TO COME FOR HER ALREADY – AND WHILE THERE WAS THE SLIM CHANCE THAT BOTH KNEW, THE LENGTHS PATTEN HAD GONE TRYING TO DRAG HER NAME THROUGH THE MUD, USELESSLY WORKING TO DISCREDIT HER ENOUGH TO HAVE CHARLOTTE SHIPPED TO WHERE HE FELT SHE BELONGED, SPOKE OF A THIN DESPERATION THAT WOULD HAVE GRABBED AT THIS KNOWLEDGE WITHOUT HESITATION. PATTEN COULD NOT KNOW OR THE AGENCY WOULD HAVE COME FOR HER BY NOW. THEN THE IDIOT COULD STAY IN THE DARK. HER TRUE PROBLEM WAS HOW TO HANDLE HER CAT.
“BETTER?”
“No.”
POOR KITTY. AS MUCH AS SHE PLANNED FOR DIRTY, UNSPEAKABLE THINGS HAPPEN TO HIM BY THE END OF THIS HOUR, THE SILENCE IN HIS BREATH CONVINCED HER TO WAIT. THEY WERE CERTAINLY COMING TO THE END OF THAT – FIVE MORE MINUTES AND THEN SHE WAS CHAINING HIM TO SOMETHING – BUT FOR NOW, IT WAS THE LEAST SHE COULD DO. SHE WAS CONCERNED. HE BARELY FOUGHT WHEN SHE BROUGHT HIM BACK INTO HER OFFICE, AND HIS EVERY PROTEST WAS HUSHED EVEN AS SHE LOCKED AND BOLTED THE DOOR. TRUE, HE VANISHED THROUGH THE FIRST BARRICADE IN SECONDS WHEN HE ESCAPED BEFORE, BUT THE LOCKS SHE USED THIS TIME WERE CLEARLY STRONGER AND HE STILL HAD NOT FLINCHED. ALTHOUGH... HE WAS DIFFICULT TO JUDGE WITH HIS EYES COVERED, AND THE MOST SHE COULD SEE OF HIM WAS HIS SIDE AS HE IDLY FACED THE WALL ON HER RIGHT, BUT HE HAD OTHER TELLS, FIRST AND FOREMOST THAT HE DEVOURED AN ENTIRE PACK OF CIGARETTES AND WOULD NOT STOP REACHING FOR NEW ONES. THE PIECE MISSING FROM THIS PICTURE WAS PACING, BUT HER KITTY WAS TOO REFINED TO WASTE TIME ON THAT. SHE COULD FEEL HIM PACING ON THE INSIDE, ANYWAY. THE MAN WAS MARRIED TO THE BITTER CONCEPT OF MOVEMENT, BUT APPARENTLY ONLY EVER SHOWED IT OFF AROUND HER. SHE WAS SPECIAL. THE REST OF THE TIME, HE RESTED QUIETLY IN THE SHADOWS. IN THEIR EARLY DAYS, JEAN HAD WHINED THAT HE WAS ‘LAZY’. IT SEEMED EVERYONE HAD THAT OPINION AT FIRST, AND IT SEEMED ALMOST AS MANY TOOK IT BACK BY THE END. THE WOMAN AGENT – NOT FRENCH, NO ONE NEEDED HER NAME – HAD YET TO DO SO. WHAT AN INTERESTING DYNAMIC, AND IF SHE SPOKE TO HER CAT LIKE THAT AGAIN, MADELINE WOULD BREAK HER THROAT. UNTIL THEN, THE FACT REMAINED THE WOMAN ALREADY HAD, AND NOW SHE MUST BE SURE HER KITTY WAS WELL BEFORE SHE MOVED ON TO ANYTHING ELSE.
“NOW ARE YOU BETTER?”
“No.”
DAMN.
SHE COULD BE PATIENT. SHE REMEMBERED HOW. THE BEST THINGS CAME TO THOSE WHO WAITED, AND HER SUPPORT WOULD PUT HIM INTO HER DEBT. SHE EXPECTED A FULL REPAYMENT, PLUS INTEREST, PLUS PATIENCE FEES, IN... FOUR MINUTES NOW. THE CLOCK ON HER DESK MADE THE RIGHT DECISION BY COUNTING DOWN. IT HAD BEEN TAKING SO LONG THAT HER HAND HAD STARTED TO REACH FOR IT. SHE WENT FOR IT AGAIN, ROCKING IT BETWEEN HER FINGERS. HURRY UP, STUPID CLOCK, OR YOU WILL JOIN YOUR BROTHERS IN THE SHRAPNEL PILE.
“WOULD TALKING MAKE YOU BETTER?”
AT HER WORDS, HAVING BROKEN ANOTHER SHORT SILENCE BETWEEN THEM, HE TURNED HIS HEAD TO FACE HER.
“Talking about what?”
“I DON’T KNOW. ABOUT WHATEVER PEOPLE TALK ABOUT WHEN THEY SAY THEY WANT TO TALK.”
SHE HAD THE FEELING HE WAS ROLLING HIS EYES. SHE INTENDED TO COMMENT ON THE NOTION WHEN HE INTERRUPTED HER INSTEAD, SUGGESTING, “Why don’t I give you a signal or something? I’ll wave.”
THE CLOCK MADE CLICKING NOISES AS SHE ROLLED IT AROUND. OVER THE THIN NOISE, SHE ASTUTELY REMARKED, “IT’S GOING TO BE HARD TO SEE WITH MY TONGUE DOWN YOUR THROAT.”
HE COULD TRY AND DENY IT, BUT HE ONLY HAD THREE MINUTES AND TWELVE SECONDS LEFT. WHY DID HE INSIST ON PUTTING IT OFF? IF HE WAS UPSET, THIS WOULD CHEER HIM UP. SHE WAS MORE THAN WILLING TO PROVE THE POINT. SHE WOULD EVEN LET HIM TAKE OVER.
“I’ll tap,” HE MUTTERED, MORE RELUCTANT THAN SHE PREFERRED. AND MISTAKEN, FOR WHICH SHE HAD TO RESPOND.
“BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY YOUR HANDS WILL NOT BE FREE FOR THAT.”
“Just stop talking,” HE TOLD HER. VERY LUCKY. AT THE LAST MOMENT, HE REMEMBERED TO BE POLITE, AND SO HIS WORDS, WHILE QUITE INFORMAL, ENDED WITH A BRUSHED NOTE OF RESPECT, COMPLETE WITH THEIR DELICATE FRENCH FLAIR THAT SENT A RISE THROUGH HER CHEST. TWO MINUTES. AT MOST. “I have enough to think about without adding you to the list.”
PATTEN. ASKING WOULD HAVE BEEN POINTLESS WHEN SHE SO ASSUREDLY KNEW THE ANSWER. HER CLOCK HAD BEEN PROMOTED. RATHER THAN SERVING TO DAWDLE THROUGH A COUNTDOWN, IT GAVE HER A TOY TO PUT HER GRIP ON OTHER THAN PATTEN’S STOLEN NECK. THE MAN MADE HER SICK. HE WAS SICK, AND LOGIC FAILED TO DICTATE WHY HE, OF ALL PEOPLE, HAD LATCHED ON TO SOMEONE AS DISTINGUISHED AS HER KITTY AND THE NOT-FRENCH WOMAN. IT COULD HAVE BEEN ANSWERED WITH HER NEXT QUESTION, THE ONE THAT HAD PRESSED ON HER MIND FOR HOURS: WHAT WAS PATTEN DOING POSSESSING JEAN? SHE KNEW HOW HIS POWERS WORKED AND THEIR ONLY KNOWN AND KEY RESTRICTION WAS FOR VICTIMS TO BE DEAD. JEAN DYING, AS UNFAIRLY UNLIKELY AS IT STOOD, WAS IMPOSSIBLE WITHOUT LEAVING A MARK, AND UNLESS PATTEN HAD SPONTANEOUSLY GROWN THE STRENGTH TO HEAL HIS CORPSES AT LONG LAST AND HAD DONE THE UTMOST THOROUGH JOB IMAGINABLE IN THE TIME SINCE JEAN HAD LAST CHECKED IN, WHICH HAD BEEN YESTERDAY TO REPORT AD COMPLAIN ABOUT AN INCOMPETENT CHILD WITH WHOM THEY HAD MERGED PATHS, SHE SUSPECTED FOUL PLAY. THERE WAS NO LEGITIMATE WAY OF WINNING, BUT THE GHOST COULD BARELY REMEMBER HIS ONE RULE OF ‘THERE ARE NO RULES’ THANKS TO HIS ABHORRENT GAME OF IGNORING EVERYTHING THE AGENCY STOOD FOR AND THEN FORCING THE HANDBOOK ON ANYONE WHO INCHED OUT OF LINE, LET ALONE FOLLOW THE BASIC LAW OF CIVILIZED WAR. IF THE ELEMENT OF SURPRISE WAS IN HIS HANDS, ANYTHING FROM AN ELEPHANT TO A WHALE HAD REASON TO TREAD LIGHTLY. UNFORTUNATELY, HER CONCERNS COULD NOT END THERE, AND AT THAT UNDERSTANDING, HER NAILS BIT INTO THE SIDES OF HER CLOCK AND STAYED THERE.
THERE TRULY WAS NO NEED FOR CONCERN. THE LOWEST SCENT OF WEAKNESS WOULD HAVE HAD HIM AT HER DOORSTEP, AND WHILE HE PRESENTLY WAS AT HER DOORSTEP, IT WAS AFTER A HALF-PLANNED THRILL RIDE TO PLAGUE HER CAT WITH HIS BEING BECAUSE PATTEN WAS A BUBBLY FOOL WITHOUT ANY SENSE OF RESTRAINT. HE DID IT ALL THE TIME WITH EVERYONE ELSE AND NOTHING HAD COME OF IT, AND SHE INCLUDED THE OTHER ARMY OF MINIONS HE ALSO SENT TO WATCH HER EVERY SO OFTEN. SHE SHOULD BE CELEBRATING. SHE WAS FINALLY ‘DANGEROUS’ ENOUGH TO WARRANT AN A-3’S GUARD NOW. AND FRENCH! HAD SHE MENTIONED THAT? WHEN THE TALONS OF FATE ROSE FROM THE EARTH AND PULLED PATTEN TO HIS FIERY PIT OF TERROR, SHE HOPED NOW THE REVENGE OF THOSE HE HAD WRONGED BROUGHT BACK TO TORMENT HIM FOR ETERNITY STUNG HIM A TINY, TINY BIT LESS. SHE WAS SOOTHED. UNTIL HE BROUGHT ON ACTIVE, DEDICATED MONITORING, SHE WAS SAFE, AND CONSIDERING SHE WOULD BE FULLY AWARE OF THE RIGOROUS APPLICATIONS PROCESS FOR SUCH MONITORING ON TOP OF IT – THE AGENCY’S FAVOURITE TIME-WASTER, SHE HAD NOTICED, AND GREATLY ENFORCED BY PATTEN EVEN IN THE FACE OF OBSTACLE IT PERSONALLY POSED FOR HIM – AND THAT IT WOULD TAKE AGES BESIDES, SHE HAD TO WONDER IF THEY TRULY ESTABLISHED THE SYSTEM OR IF ONE OF THEIR THOUSANDS OF ENEMIES HAD SLIPPED IN AND DONE IT INSTEAD.
PATTEN WAS STUPID. AND THROUGH THE SILENT CONNECTION SHE HAD MADE WITH HER NEW PET, SHE COULD FEEL A RESOUNDING AGREEMENT. IT DID NOT, APPARENTLY, MEAN THEY WERE ANY CLOSER TO STRIPPING. THAT WAS FINE – SHE LIKED HIM IN HIS SUIT AND THESE CLOTHES COST TOO MUCH TO CARELESSLY THROW TO THE SIDE – BUT CONSIDERING HOW ACCOMMODATING SHE HAD THUS FAR, HE OWED HER SEX RIGHT NOW. WHAT WAS THE PROBLEM? HE HAD SAID NOTHING WAS WRONG, AND WHEN HIS ASSURANCE FAILED TO IMMEDIATELY REMEDY THEIR SITUATION, SHE HAD GONE AHEAD AND INQUIRED AS TO WHETHER SOMETHING ELSE, FOR SOME UNFATHOMABLE REASON, WAS DISTRACTING HIM. AGAIN NO, TO THE SQUABBLE IN THE STASIS CELL CHAMBER, TO WHETHER HE WAS GRIEVING, TO WHETHER IT WAS THE SAME QUEASY CHURN IN HIS STOMACH SHE ALWAYS GOT WHENEVER PATTEN INFECTED HER BREATHING SPACE, AND NOW SHE WAS MADE TO SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES OF EITHER NOT GUESSING THE ANSWER DIRECTLY OR HIM HAVING REALIZED SHE WAS MUCH LESS AGGRESSIVE WHEN SHE THOUGHT HE WAS SAD. HOW COWARDLY. SHE TWISTED ONE ARM AND SUDDENLY SHE WAS ‘VIOLENT’.
...WELL, SHE SUPPOSED EVERYTHING ELSE SHE DID TO HIM COUNTED, BUT ONLY JUST. HE HAD GOTTEN THE SHACKLES OFF, HADN’T HE?
“ENOUGH.” SHE WAS ON HER FEET. THE CLOCK DROPPED ON HER DESK AND SHE SLAMMED HER HANDS INTO THE WOOD. THE SOUND WAS ENOUGH TO GET HIS HEAD TO TURN, BUT NOTHING MORE AND ONLY FOR A MOMENT. “I AM TIRED OF WAITING. IF YOU CANNOT BE FORCED –” THAT HAD NOT BEEN DISCOVERED THROUGH LACK OF TRYING. “– I WILL ATTEND TO OTHER MATTERS.” ENSURING PATTEN WAS NOT DESTROYING HER BUILDING WAS ALMOST AS IMPORTANT AS UNWRAPPING HER GIFT. “YOU WILL FOLLOW WHEN YOU TIRE OF TEASING ME.”
HER CAT SMIRKED. GOOD TO KNOW HE WAS ENJOYING HIMSELF ON SOME LEVEL.
THE OFFICE IN WHICH SHE REIGNED THRIVED IN THE CORNER OF HER BUILDING’S SECOND FLOOR. SHE MADE A POINT OF SITTING CLOSE TO THE GROUND RATHER THAN HIDE FURTHER UPSTAIRS. IT HELD MORE AUTHORITY AND ENSURED NO ONE COULD ENTER OR LEAVE HER PREMISES WITHOUT HER EXPRESS ACKNOWLEDGEMENT. FOR SITUATIONS OUTSIDE HER DIRECT LINE OF SIGHT, SHE HAD THE SURVEILLANCE ROOM, HIDDEN UNDER THE WEIGHTED CURTAINS SHE USED TO COVER HER WALLS, WINDOWS AND TOO-BRIGHT DECOR OF THE LAST A-2’S PATHETIC RULE. LIGHT, SHE HAD DECIDED, REACHING BEYOND HER MIGHTY TAPESTRIES FOR HER MAGIC ROOM’S HANDLE, WAS THE GREAT DISTRACTION OF THE WORLD. THE WEEK SHE HAD REMOVED IT FROM HER CASTLE, HER STAFF HAD TRANSFORMED FROM WEAK-WILLED, ABSENTMINDED, HYPERACTIVE DOGS INTO CALCULATED SYMBOLS OF EFFICIENCY. WAS THERE ANY WONDER WHY SHE WAS HELD IN SUCH REGARD? PATTEN SHOULD HAVE BEEN PROUD, CONSIDERING THE PAGE SHE USED WAS DIRECTLY OUT OF HIS BOOK: THIS BUILDING WAS LAUGHABLE TO CONTROL WHEN SHE ASSUMED EVERYONE WAS DUMB AND COULD NOT BE TRUSTED.
“Where are you off to?”
“WHAT DOES IT MATTER?” SHE GAVE HIM A POINTED LOOK. “WOULD ANYTHING CHANGE?”
“It might.” HE WAS LYING. AND AS IF HE KNEW PRECISELY WHAT HAD PASSED THROUGH HER THOUGHTS, HE SHRUGGED AND ADDED ON, “You aren’t having much luck with me so far.” SHE KNEW IT! HE WAS DOING IT ON PURPOSE! TO WHICH HE REPLIED, “Not completely.”
SHE SCOWLED.
“GET OUT OF MY HEAD.”
“And now you don’t want me in you. Make up your mind.”
HE WAITED FOR HER RESPONSE TO THAT. BY THE EXPRESSION ON HIS FACE, SHE HAD TO ASSUME HERS WAS OBVIOUSLY IN DEEP CONSIDERATION OF HIS WORDS.
“ALRIGHT,” SHE SUPPOSED. “BUT YOU TOUCH NOTHING!”
SHE GAVE HIM A POINTED LOOK, THEN TURNED BRISKLY AND FLIPPED UP THE CURTAIN. THERE WAS THE HANDLE TO HER BEAUTIFUL, TWELVE BOLT, EIGHT HINGE, SIXTEEN CENTIMETRE-THICK STEEL DOOR, AS UNOPENED AS SHE HAD LEFT IT AND COLDER THAN ARCTIC ICE TO THE TOUCH. THE HANDLE WAS SET TO RESPOND TO HER HAND – AND ONLY HER HAND, WHICH HAD PAID FOR ITSELF DURING SEVERAL OF PATTEN’S AFORE-MENTIONED INVESTIGATIONS – AND IT GAVE A SEASONED CLICK AS THE LOCK DISENGAGED. THE DOOR SURGED WITH LIFE AS THE BOLTS RETRACTED, ITS INSIDES SPINNING AS IT FREED ITSELF FROM ITS POST AND GROANING LIGHTLY BEFORE IT PULLED AWAY AND SLID INTO THE WALL. IMMEDIATELY, HER EYES WERE WASHED BY THE GLOW OF HER FORTY-SEVEN SCREENS EMBEDDED IN EVERY SIDE OF THE ROOM, EACH FILLED WITH THE SMART ILLUSTRATION OF EXACTLY WHAT WAS HAPPENING IN HER BUILDING. IN THE CENTER, PROUDLY KNEELING BEFORE THE LARGEST AND CENTRAL SCREEN, WAS HER TRUE CHAIR, OUT OF REACH OF ANYONE WHO SOUGHT TO RUIN HER THROUGH POOR LUMBAR SUPPORT. THIS WAS HER GREAT SANCTUARY. HER CAT LOOKED QUIETLY IMPRESSED, AND RIGHTLY SO.
“I find it hard to believe there are others here,” HE SAID. “Other than your death squad, this building seems abandoned.”
“MY WORKERS ARE OUT OF SIGHT UNTIL THEY ARE NEEDED.” AND IT WAS HIS FAULT FOR JOINING UP WITH PATTEN. HER ‘DEATH SQUAD’ NEEDED MORE PRACTISE. OR AT LEAST THE NEXT ONE WOULD. “THERE IS NO SMOKING IN MY ROOM.”
HE STARED AT HER FOR SEVERAL SECONDS, TOOK THE CIGARETTE OUT OF HIS MOUTH, POLITELY COMMENTED, “Oh look, I suddenly lost all interest in you,” AND THEN PUT THE CIGARETTE BACK IN. “Amazing. I’m back to entertaining the idea.”
“THAT IS CALLED BLACKMAIL!”
“Actually, it’s prostitution.” AND ANOTHER SHRUG! “I can’t be the only one getting nothing out of this. Be grateful I haven’t asked for more.” HE SNORTED AT HER! “The market these days... And what is Eric up to?”
“I DON’T KNOW!” SHE COULD NOT BELIEVE THIS! HE WAS INTENTIONALLY PLAYING GAMES WITH HER! “YOU CANNOT –”
“Who is that?”
HER FISTS WERE BALLED AND HER TEETH WERE CLENCHED, AND THOUGH SHE COULD CRANE HER NECK TOWARDS HER CENTRAL SCREEN, THE GLOW OF WHICH HAD TAKEN ON A MOCKING HUE AND ONLY FURTHER ANNOYED HER, HER BODY WAS TENSE AND POISED TO FIGHT. HE IGNORED HER IN FAVOUR OF WHAT THE HIGHER-RANKED BUFFOON WAS DOING. MOVEMENT CAUGHT HER EYE AND STOLE HER BUDDING OBJECTION, BUT SHE HAD NOT GIVEN UP. THIS WAS HER BUILDING AND HE WAS HER CAT AND THAT WOULD NOT CHANGE. IN THE MEANTIME, WHAT WAS PATTEN UP TO? WHO WAS THAT?
“HE IS NEW. HE IS NOT ONE OF MINE.” SHE STRODE TO HER CHAIR, WORKING HARD TO KEEP FROM STOMPING AND MANAGING FAIRLY WELL. AFTER HALF A MINUTE IN HER SEAT AND WORKING TECHNOLOGICAL SORCERY NO ONE ELSE WOULD UNDERSTAND, SHE BLANDLY NOTED, “HIS NAME –”
“Quin. He must have brought Stewart.”
MORE ‘GUESTS’. SHE WAS ILL.
“HOW MUCH WORSE IS HE THAN PATTEN?”
“Ask March. I have yet to meet him.”
“THEN HOW DO YOU KNOW WHO HE IS?”
“March was expecting him. And it’s on your list of entry codes – immediately following, I might add, a failed registration of Eric’s. Did you lock him out?”
“YES,” SHE SNAPPED, “AND HOW DID YOU KNOW?”
“I take it that list was meant to be secure?”
“AS IS EVERYTHING INVOLVING MY FACILITIES. THAT IS WHY THEY ARE CLASSIFIED AS SECURE.”
“So they are,” HE SAID. “A week earlier and they would have remained as such, but I recently invested in newer technology saying I have a free pass to all Agency data.” HE POINTED TO HIS SUNGLASSES. “I like keeping track of people, too.”
SHE CROSSED HER ARMS. HE WAS AMUSED.
“THAT IS A LOT OF ACCESS FOR AN A-3.”
“Yes,” HE PROUDLY AGREED. “It is.”
THIS COULD NOT BE THE MAN JEAN HAD TALKED ABOUT.
“MY KITTY IS MUCH LESS HONOUR-BOUND THAN I WAS LED TO BELIEVE.”
“Which is still more than you should,” HE TOLD HER. “And stop calling me that.” HE POINTED AT THE SCREEN. “Does this have sound?”
WHO DID HE THINK SHE WAS? OF COURSE IT DID. IT TOOK A MOMENT FOR HER EYES TO LEAVE HIM – THIS WAS AN INTERESTING REVELATION SHE HAD TO THINK ABOUT – BUT SHE FLICKED HER HAND ACROSS A SWITCH AND BOMBARDED THEM WITH NOISE. WHOEVER THIS QUIN WAS, HIS VOICE WAS GRATING. AND HER CAT, READING HER MIND AGAIN, HAD FOUND SOMETHING WORTH CHUCKLING ABOUT. SHE FROWNED AT HIM, SOMEHOW PUSHING IT TO A LAUGH, BUT WHATEVER THE SMALL MAN HAD BEEN SAYING, HE HAD FINISHED. NOW HE HAD TO LISTEN.
PATTEN AND HIS TRICKS WOULD NOT WORK IN HERE. THE ONLY FEELINGS SHE HAD FROM WATCHING HIM WAS IMMENSE CONTEMPT FOR THE INVASION OF HER PROPERTY AND SATISFACTION IN KNOWING HER CAMERAS WERE PERFECTLY ANGLED. THERE WERE NO BLIND SPOTS, NO SHADOWS, NO ROOM FOR ANYONE TO HIDE, AND IT ROBBED HIM OF ANY MEANS TO INTIMIDATE IN HIS TRADITIONAL WAY. UNFORTUNATELY, HE REALIZED THIS, AND THE BLATANT CHANGE IN HIS DIRECTION WAS LOUD ENOUGH TO HEAR. HE WOULD BE FRIENDLY, HE HAD DECIDED. HE WOULD GRIN AND HE WOULD LAUGH AND HE WOULD CHANNEL THE SOUL OF A PLAYFUL CHILD FOR EVERYONE TO GIGGLE AT AND TICKLE. THEN HE WOULD KILL THEM. OVER A DOZEN TAPES OF HIM DOING EXACTLY THAT – IN HER BUILDING ALONE – SAT IN HER FILES, NEATLY COMPLIED FOR ANYONE WHO WISHED TO SEE A MESS. THE PIXELS ON HER SCREEN WERE USED TO IT ENOUGH TO SHINE IN ANTICIPATION, EAGERLY AWAITING THE DAMAGE SHE WAS SURE WOULD HAVE TO BE WASHED OFF EACH OF HER STASIS CELLS. IT BEGAN, AS IT ALWAYS DID, WITH THAT – STUPID – SMILE. JEAN WAS NOT MEANT TO HAVE THAT SMILE BUT IT STRETCHED OVER HIS FACE AS IF IT MEANT TO CONSUME HIM. THOSE TEETH MADE HER NAILS CURL INTO THE ARMS OF HER CHAIR, AND THE MERRY STEPS HE TOOK TO BREAK THE DISTANCE BETWEEN HIMSELF AND HIS NEW ‘FRIEND’ – NOW LIKELY MARKED AS A BACK-UP CORPSE OR ELSE AS DECORATION – BROUGHT BILE TO THE BACK OF HER TONGUE. HIS MOUTH WOULD NOT STOP GROWING. IT BECAME A SHINING LINE THAT NEARLY SPLIT HIS FACE IN TWO, GLEAMING AS HIS LIPS BROUGHT ON A STIR OF UTTER JOY AND ENDLESS ENTERTAINMENT.
“YOUR FRIEND DID NOT DESERVE THIS.” SHE SNEERED AT WHAT JEAN HAD BECOME. SHE EXPECTED AN AGREEMENT TO FOLLOW HER WORDS, BUT THE SOUND OF EMPTY SPACE RANG IN HER EARS. “KITTY?” HER KITTY WAS GONE. SHE INTENDED TO FIND HIM, BUT PATTEN’S VOICE – JEAN’S VOICE, UNFORGIVABLY WARPED – SWEPT OUT AND CURIOSITY COMPELLED HER TO STAY.
“Rudy, I’m so sorry! I had no idea you expected that much,” HE SAID, INSUFFERABLY WARM AND FULL OF DEVOTION. “Geez – now I just feel like I’ve failed you. That isn’t a happy feeling! Maybe...” HE PONDERED THIS WITH A FINGER ON HIS CHIN. “Well... would you prefer the Darth Vader thing?” THEN HE MOVED. HIS HAND GRABBED THE AGENT BY HIS NECK, SWALLOWING THE BOTTOM HALF OF THE LITTLE ONE’S HEAD WITH THE REST OF IT. THEN INTO THE AIR, LEFT TO DANGLE BY HIS THROAT, WAS PATTEN’S NEW TOY, VERY CLOSE TO BEING HANGED AND BLEEDING FROM WOUNDS THAT HAD VALIANTLY TRIED TO CLOT. TO NO ONE’S SURPRISE, HE GRINNED, CLEARLY HAVING DONE THIS AGENT A FAVOUR. “So? Better? I mean – sure – not authentic, obviously, but it’s the best I can do since that one –” HE NODDED AT THE CENTERMOST CELL. “– snatched the Force away after he blew up my brain. Only one person on the planet with telekinesis and he smooshes it into paste! But I digress – you were saying something about Brannigan? Wilkerson? Something like that? Do go on, Rudy! I love stories! And then we can have a chat about everything else you said, ‘kays?”
SHE WANTED HER CAT. IF THE AGENT HAD NOT BEEN TORN APART ON SIGHT, SHE HAD TIME BEFORE THE MAN CHOSE TO FINISH HIM. WHERE WAS HER CAT? SHE SPUN IN HER SEAT. HE WAS NO LONGER IN THE ROOM. HE HAD LEFT HER! UNACCEPTABLE! SHE WAS ON HER FEET WITH TWO SHARP STRIKES OF HER SHOES AND OUTSIDE OF HER VAULT IN SECONDS. THE LOCKS WERE STILL ON THE DOOR, SHE NOTED, SO HE HAD TO BE SOMEWHERE –
“YOU ARE IN MY CHAIR.”
“This is my chair now.”
AND HE LOOKED COMFORTABLE IN IT, EXCEPT FOR THAT HE WAS SMOKING FASTER THAN BEFORE. HER CONCERN HAD RETURNED. SHE WOULD IGNORE THE THEFT OF HER CHAIR UNTIL THIS WAS ADDRESSED.
“YOU ARE UPSET.” HER WORK TO CALM HIM DOWN HAD BEEN UNDONE AND HIS GENTLE SENSE OF PATIENCE HAD BEEN TRADED IN FOR A RAGGED LINE OF HATE. HER EYES NARROWED AT WHOSE FAULT IT WAS. PATTEN’S TECHNIQUE HAD EVOLVED: HE NO LONGER NEEDED TO BE IN THE ROOM TO PICK AT THOSE ON HIS LIST. “I WILL FIX IT.”
“I’m well enough to refuse your generosity.” HE SAID IT AS HE PRODUCED HIS MILLIONTH SNACK OF POISON. “Go back to watching. He could be up to something.”
PATTEN WAS ALWAYS UP TO SOMETHING. THIS WOULD END NO DIFFERENTLY THAN USUAL. SHE SHOULD BE HERE WITH HER CAT. HE WAS UNHAPPY. ALSO, THEY WERE NOT PRESENTLY HAVING SEX, AND THAT SHE COULD NOT ABIDE. THE DECISION WAS MADE FOR HER WHEN SHE HEARD BUZZING FROM INSIDE HER VAULT. A PHONE CALL. IT WAS NOT FOR HER, BUT FOR PATTEN, AND SHE SO ADORED LISTENING TO HIS CONVERSATIONS.
“YOU WILL NOT GO IN?”
“I’ve had my fill. But by all means, enjoy.”
“AND YOU WILL STAY,” SHE SAID.
“You put locks on the door. I can’t get out.”
HE WAS LYING AGAIN. SHE FROWNED FOR AS LONG AS SHE WAS ABLE, IMPRESSING UPON HIM THE EXTENT OF HER DISAPPOINTMENT SHOULD HE FORCE HER TO HUNT HIM DOWN A SECOND TIME. WHEN HE NODDED IN RESPONSE TO THIS, AS CLOSE TO CONSENT AS HE WOULD GO, SHE TURNED BRISKLY AND RETURNED TO HER VAULT TO PLACE THE CALL’S LOCATION. FROM WHAT SHE GATHERED, THREE SEPARATE SCHEDULES WERE IN PLACE: PATTEN AND HIS RUSH TO HAVE THE STEWART TRANSFER COMPLETED, HER KITTY AND HIS TIMED APPROACH OF ALEXANDER, AND DANIELLE’S SHOW OF EXPLOSIONS TO BE DELIVERED IN A SIMPLE MATTER OF HOURS. IN ORDER FOR THE LAST ONE TO WORK, THE FIRST TWO HAD TO SUCCEED. ANY NEWS COULD BE THE HAMMER ON THEIR GLASS CASTLE OF PREPARATION, AND SO EVERY WORD HAD TO BE MONITORED. ON A MORE POSITIVE NOTE, CONSIDERING THE COMPANY PATTEN KEPT AND HIS DISTINCT SENSE OF HOSPITALITY, THE WORST THIS CALL COULD DO WAS SPEED THE URGE TO KILL HIM. SHE SUPPORTED THAT WHOLE-HEARTEDLY. IT MEANT SHE COULD PLAY HER KITTY THAT MUCH SOONER.
Why did it sound like whenever Osono said she’d go along with what they were doing, she was quietly charging a firebomb to set off in the car? Oh, right, because she probably was. And who could blame her, thanks to their spectacular timing? Five seconds after she stopped freaking out over Alex maybe being an Agent, the ‘great revelation’ about there being a real Agent with them popped out. He should’ve been acting crazier or – hell – after all these years, he still didn’t have one foolproof explanation for what was going on with him? Anything was better than the truth. And did Xander have any extra motivation to reassure her? Nope! Not a drop! Not from what Alex was feeling, which was jack shit like it usually was. He could hope he all wanted, but he had a damn good hunch that unless it was spelled out, Xander wouldn’t bother doing anything to make her feel better about him riding around in his head before he called an even worse guy. And his name? Really?
“Don’t waste your breath, he’s not gonna tell you,” Alex muttered. “Just call him Xander like everyone else.”
And ‘everyone else’ was turning into an uncomfortable list.
“‘Cause I won’t respond to anything else. For the record, it’s Marshall.”
Hilarious. Anyway, what they would have to do – No, seriously. Doubly hilarious. Whatever. Can I do this now?
If she was already on the edge of her seat, they weren’t going to keep leaving her in suspense. The phone would use its speaker so everybody could hear and Alex would go nuts trying to fill in any gaps along the way. That was assuming they made it to Peter, though. He got the logic behind the call and everything, but... man... Was all the information Xander wanted really Peter-exclusive? So long as they were parading around as him, Alex was sure they could’ve squeezed one or two secrets out of the girl in their trunk. Come on – how hard was it to say ‘where’s the last place you saw me?’
I’m hoping to get something more up-to-date.
“Directly from the guy whose name makes you froth,” he said. “You want to hear his voice. As in... his voice. Talking.”
I don’t ‘froth’. That’s beneath me. And yes, I have to hear his voice so I know if he’s alive. This was sounding more like a personal call by the second. Oh – I’m sorry, boss. I didn’t realize this only pertained to my interests.
“Just promise you won’t go crazy if it turns out he’s still around. You’re already jumpy and you’ve only got my finger over the number.” And he was twitching it like he was on crack. Or on Starbucks. “And that’s ‘if’ – remember. If.”
Aren’t we Mr. Fucking Sunshine? ‘We’ were not. If Xander had eyes, he would’ve been rolling them, which followed the rest of his mood on its steady decline. I hate you when you’re optimistic. But sure, whatever, ‘if’. Calling.
He pressed the screen. The little bar flashing ‘Lead’ lit briefly, then dropped away as the main call screen went up. Alex put it on speakerphone before this went any further, and then in a flash of foresight he really wasn’t used to, put the phone in a nestled groove on the dashboard, one that could’ve been installed purely for that purpose or to hold CDs or tapes or... Nobody used tapes anymore. CDs then, he guessed. Since they were on the highway, he wasn’t expecting any sharp turns to knock it out of that hold, but it sure as hell kept it away of his – meaning Xander’s – hands when he decided to break things. Alex expected it to happen whether or not he got his reunion; the guy had a fairly set way of handling things that bothered him and a ‘no answer’, as he had firmly noted many times throughout his life, was just as bad getting one.
“I don’t know every detail of what you’ve gone through,” Alex said, making sure the phone would stay put, “but I’m guessing you never got the full ‘evil, crazy bureaucracy’ side of the Agents before. These people really like knowing who’s in charge and they run themselves like a government-meets-army. I don’t even have a full idea, but I’m willing to bet no one besides their leader truly does. So...” The mechanical chime was aggravating. He gave a nod towards it, then because he had time until the Agency answered, scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and kept trying to explain. “Peter is... well – Xander says he’s higher up on the food chain than anyone I’ve run into so far. I met him a year after I ‘got’ this guy.” Quotation, quotation, and Alex did the hand gesture on top of it. “Peter said he was one of us. He had powers and he basically tried to talk us into going to the Agency so they could finish the job or whatever the plan was, but it didn’t work. Sometime during the middle of it, the wrong thing was said and two weeks later I was melting his brain. ... Not literally.”
“And then I smashed a rock through his face until I saw the ground again,” Xander said. “Very literally, so why the fuck is he back?”
“Calm down...”
I am calm!
And they weren’t picking up. Peter might have been important – or something – but if one of his lackeys was trying to reach him, shouldn’t he have been in more of a rush to check in? He had no reason not to. There was no way word could’ve gotten out about them kidnapping the woman so there shouldn’t have been any fear of an enemy drilling them for info, and if there had been another invisi-Agent in that office, Xander would have seen it. But if there was, well... wouldn’t Peter want to know the circumstances surrounding his minion? Wasn’t he all about knowing everything on everyone? Which should’ve been sign number one that something was up, by the way, back when there’d been something like trust between them. Peter had known too much and too easily, but before Alex could start giving himself crap for missing it – along with every other thing he deserved to get crap for – the phone stopped ringing, a flicker of life flew through the silence, and then a sweet, serenading voice chopped at their ears with a fork. Peter? No. Unless he’d turned into a woman.
“Happy early evening, sir or madam! You’ve reached Cindy of Eric Patten’s office, and how may I be of service this lovely day?”
Every word that came out of her mouth made me want to punch her. I can do that, right? She’s an Agent, so it cancels out being a chick.
The good news was the thought of violence had perked Xander up. As the woman on the other end waited patiently for his response, too merry to scratch at the quiet with a ‘hello?’ or ‘are you there?’, Alex felt more at ease asking questions again. Keeping his voice low, this time to avoid being heard over the phone rather than by Osono, he whispered, “Who did you call?”
Dunno, but it reeks of douchebag.
“We found him?”
Or the mothership. Was it too ridiculous to wonder if the Agency had a hundred like Peter? This woman had the ‘warm’ but not so much the ‘fuzzy’, and the guy had prided himself on mastering both. It was that careful mix that’d wormed his way into Alex’s circle, and even if he tried telling himself it was only because he’d been naive then and now he was smart enough to pick out the differences, Cindy and her friendliness felt too trained, like someone had pinned little hooks on the corners of her mouth instead of letting her be the center of all that was unbridled joy. Xander was right, though. Peter’s mark was on this. If they didn’t find him, they’d find whoever sent him. “Happy early evening to you, too! You’re sweet for saying that!”
“Thank you! I’m so glad to hear you think so!”
“I’m glad to hear you’re glad I think so! Goodness, I’m so glad!” Sarcastic-happy dropped to regular sarcastic. Xander must’ve been making himself sick. “I’m looking for a friend of mine. Peter Halsted?”
“That’s wonderful, sir! There’s nothing like finding an old friend to reunite with, especially when they’re part of the Salcon family!”
Salcon?
Parent company. Medicine and crap. It’s what funds our little shopping sprees in the super-powered market. Didn’t I mention that?
“No.”
Mentioned some of it. “Yeah! Friends are great. How about that name?”
Tickity, tickity, tickity. The woman on the other end typed fast and loud. They could hear her humming to herself while she did it, but once again, it sounded more put on than anything Peter had done. Not that it didn’t feel sincere – part of her was happy, at least – but it definitely landed more in the dress wearing, flower picking, Kool-Aid drinking, cult member department than he was comfortable with. These people got under his skin like they’d been invited.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid your friend’s name isn’t listed in our public database. I’ll have to ask for your identification code to confirm your access for an advanced search!” She said it like it was the most novel idea on the planet and she was a genius for coming up with it. Xander gagged. Alex agreed.
“Well, Cindy, I sure golly-gee would like to hand it over, but since your shitty group decided keeping track of those things was the one part of their security program they would enforce, mine’s been deactivated. So I’ll tell you what: I will give you a identification code, you tell me if it still works, and if it does, just patch me on through so we can skip through fields and have picnics and do everything friends do because we’re friends and friends are great. Sounds good?”
“I’d have to –”
“Do it now? Do it now. 337-04-A2-4. And while you’re doing that, you saintly woman of my dreams, I’m going to be trying not to puke on this frail body that’s recently turned out to be a rental because your nasally voice has pushed me to that edge.”
Cindy took it as an order and plopped into her work with a dainty whistle of a song. She got absorbed in it enough for Alex to almost forget about her, freeing him up to say, “Please don’t call my body a rental.”
What would you call it?
“Besides ‘mine’?” Alex huffed. “How about ‘stolen property’?”
It’s not stealing if you gave it away. You had your chance to fight back, laser eyes.
“Fight against the zillion swarms of your guys versus me for forever? Oh, that’s fair,” Alex said. “Well – to you guys, it is, but the real world calls that ‘one-sided’. Not to mention the piles of guns, tech and endless professional strategy they kept trotting out...”
And yet they still managed to fuck up month after month – just a parade of failing and sucking at life. He could hear Xander shaking his head. Retards. And they were against letting me jump in. Took me a week, and that’s counting travel time.
“... I think I like hearing you brag about that less than you calling my body a rental.”
Nobody likes a sore loser, Alex.
It was a bad sign when words like those didn’t bother him. The stupid jab made him grin. Out of every Agent he could have had jammed inside his head, he got the one who thought this was a game rather than a moral war like the rest of them. Time made him grateful for it, as far as putting up with this went. Hell – Peter made him grateful for it. If Xander didn’t have a massive ego scribbling pointless stuff like ‘rules’ and ‘obeying the hierarchy of power’ out of his Big Book of Words, the Agency would’ve only had to say ‘come back and let’s finish this’ for Alex to have met his end. He guessed it’d worked out the same way for Osono. They were both lucky. Arguably.
“Good news!” Gah! From out of the phone burst Cindy, instantly spouting nonsense. Good news? What the hell definition was she using? “It looks like your friend is still around after all! Except...”
Of course there was an ‘except’. Alex didn’t even have to ask, but he did.
“Except?”
“Except it seems the identification code you gave me has been...absorbed into someone else’s account. It’s as if he was completely replaced!” Duh.
“Just tell me who’s running around as him now,” Xander said. And how to serve his balls when I feed ‘em to him.
“It’s the darndest thing! The absorbed account says the employee is deceased, but the overall account appears active!”
“... Great! Totally not what I asked but... great!”
“The name of the overall account is...” So they’d beaten security again? Should he pretend to be surprised? “Eric Patten! That’s my boss!”
“Xander,” Alex said, “who’s he?”
How the fuck should I know? Some asshole.
“Is it Peter?”
I’ll know when I talk to him. But at least one person had earned a reward. Xander made the effort to stick some enthusiasm in his voice just for her. “Cindy, you’ve been a big help, but I need you to do one last thing for me by putting that guy on the phone.”
“I won’t be more than a minute! I’ll get him on the line as soon as I can!” Yup, they’d beaten security. And she was gone, as completely as before. It was like she was diving into a black hole – no wonder she’d scared him when she’d come back with her ‘good news’. The least they could have done was given them some waiting music to take the edge off or... something.
“More waiting...”
Don’t get comfy, Xander said. I’m the only one who’d’ve asked for that kind of search. He knows it’s me and he’s on his way.
“And you’re not going to go crazy?”
Nope.
Bullshit.
“Osono, brace yourself,” Alex dryly told her. “This guy throws tantrums like you wouldn’t believe.”
... The car felt... lighter, suddenly. It was all the warning he got before a spotlight of joy flashed out of the phone and blinded everybody. Xander was not pleased by it. He specifically clued Alex into this by letting a tremor blaze through his mouth, and it came from ferally crushing his teeth together and grinding like he wanted them to crack. Everyone else found out because he started growling. That was two steps under frothing, by the way, and boy this was shaping up to be a terrific, un-regrettable plan. On top of the cast, Alex was going to need braces – and aspirin, because a flare of pain had sprung out from the front of his mind. This was why having an Agent in his head sucked beyond the obvious.
The first time Xander had taken over to do his crazy, superhuman ass-kicking, Alex – admittedly stoked he was such a closet badass – was screaming for three weeks when it was done. Sprained ankles, torn ligaments, somehow a nerve that’d slipped out of place so a brand-new wave shot out whenever he bent his joints... It was the fun cost of getting to do everything Xander could when Alex had taken very special pride in swimming two laps across a pool and only touching the bottom four times. He was over it now because of the tons of practise, but it was just half the warfare and Alex had refused to do ‘concentration exercises’ to learn the rest because he’d get a migraine that’d knock him out for days by the time it was over. And what did he care? If Xander had been a crazy split-personality, then as long as one of them could do it, the other didn’t have to, and because Xander had run out of patience exactly five seconds after that, they’d easily agreed to forget about it and go do whatever they wanted in their private corner except for ‘extra special’ occasions. Apparently, this counted as special. Like, a lot.
If he wanted to be clever, then his senses were like a really big garage door – the kind warehouses used, the ones with a thick chain to it move up and down, and his was rusted in place a foot off the ground. It wasn’t like he was complaining since the gap gave him enough room to get in and out without any sort of problem and it was all the average person needed to survive, but if he had an old, giant, rusted, warehouse, room-for-an-elephant door, then Xander had a shiny, new and clean ‘I’m an Agent so everything’s impressive’ normal-sized one that swung open like angels had installed it themselves and oiled it with their tears; ten times better but much smaller, which was his fault for trying to steal a body like an asshole, but right now it wasn’t enough for him. The moment he caught a whiff of sound on the other end of the phone, Xander ripped that rusted garage door open and forced every ounce of mental focus the human brain was capable of to turn on. Alex’s mind was flooded by a world that tore at him from every angle; too bright, too loud, too alive... The sound of the Audi’s tires hacking at the road as it drove along screeched in his ears and the air picked up the taste of metal, huge in his lungs and pooling once it carved down his throat. Fuck the door thing – this was officially a point-blank fire hose in his face.
“Whoopsie-doodle!”
Dammit dammit dammit dammit dammit – at those two words from the other side, Alex was squeezed – the whole of his brain was squeezed – into a vice grip that broke the super-world he’d been trampled by and slammed him into new line of total concentration. Xander didn’t bother telling him to shut up because that was what the locked jaw was for, other than the charming bonus of psychopathic rage, but he did knock everything that wasn’t the phone out of Alex’s thoughts and send his eyes digging at each atom the naked eye could pick out.
“Xander, seriously,” Alex hissed through the clenched teeth, keeping full control of anything below his knee. “Just look at it like a normal person!”
Did he have to remind everyone that they didn’t know if it was Peter, or if there was any real relation besides ‘this guy worked for the Agency so he’s automatically added to the list of minds to fry’? What was the point of hyper-analyzing a phone?
Unless...
Was it booby-trapped? Could they do that? Could they booby-trap phones? Because he’d seen –
I hereby declare you in-fucking-capable of shutting your dumb ass up.
Then Xander locked him out of half his head. Alright, well, that was a neat trick Alex had never known about. The rest of the world returned to him, but still too loud and minus anything as eye-catching as the stupid phone. The pounding in his skull was gone too, but it didn’t matter much because his leg smugly took its pain-throne back when part two of this crap kicked in and it reflexively tensed.
“Sorry about that, folks! New hands! Couldn’t grab my phone,” they heard. “What can I do ya for?”
There was none of the tinny, mechanical edge that should’ve been mixed in over the speaker. Instead it was a warm and cresting surge of delight floating gleefully around as if they had someone else in the car, and because no one else was saying anything – Osono had a pass, the other Agent was unconscious and stuffed in the trunk, but Xander was keeping his mouth shut when he asked for this? – Alex was the first to speak up. He hesitated, not sure how he should start this thing, then said as steadily as he was able, “Holy shit.”
Then... nothing. No words, no sounds, no breathing, just silence. It gave him the seconds he needed to think because he knew whose voice that was. He relived an entire week when he heard it, and every other week they’d let the traitor run with them came back when it spoke for the second time.
“Is that a good ‘holy shit’ or a bad ‘holy shit’?”
He wasn’t joking, and no one could say that so innocently.
“The bad one, Peter,” Alex said. “It’s the bad one.”
They could hear – or Xander could, because Alex could only somewhat make it out – the sound of cheeks and the corners of a mouth crinkling in serendipity. So two things he learned: first, the creepy smile was still going strong, and second, Xander was right about Peter wanting to talk. That crinkle was the crinkle of familiarity. There was no disguising who was talking to who, and Peter was apparently all for it because otherwise he would’ve hung up.
“Alex?” Like he was amazed. “Is that really Alex? Get out of town, you maniac! Long time, no see, buddy – how’ve you been?”
“Alive,” he said, pushing around Xander’s seething and his locked jaw. “No thanks to you.”
“Me? Why me?”
He was serious.
“You tried to kill me, dick,” Alex snapped. “You hunted me down and tried to drag me –”
“Is this about the restaurant? Because that wasn’t my fault,” Peter said. “These lackeys keep clearing security and whisking my guys to every random corner. I heard you killed them, by the way! Don’t worry: I forgive you. And I have more.”
Xander was hovering over his shoulder, burning a hole through the back of his mind. Alex shook him away and half-stuffed him back into his corner. The guy wasn’t thrilled about it, but he didn’t complain. Bad sign, but Alex would ignore it.
“I meant everything,” he said. “Yeah, the restaurant, but you trying to crack my head open to pull me out of it –”
“Oh, that. Really? It’s been years, Ally, and it wasn’t anything personal. You’ve gotta learn to let go a little! Xander has not been a good influence,” Peter tut-tutted. “I wasn’t trying to kill you. I was trying to drag you to my secret Agency base so we could put you in a super-vegetative state and run around in our new laser-eyed skin! Completely different! And if anything, I’m the one who should be angry! I happen to remember a very stern conversation I had face-to-face with a hunk of cement.”
“But that’s not personal either, right?”
“Of course not! We’re all friends here! Killing people’s practically how I say ‘hello’ and it darn near makes you family!” Alex heard gagging just then. It was coming from over the phone and it sounded pretty close. Before he could ask, Peter explained. “I’m choking someone to death as we speak! It’s a little counterproductive seeing as how I’m trying to get info out’f him, but what’s an interrogation without a good ‘ha, ha, now you can’t breathe’?” Peter would know better than Alex would. Maybe even better than Xander, and that said something. “Besides.” Alex tensed. The thinnest edge found its way into Peter’s voice. “It’s not like it worked. How mad can I be?”
“I’ll tell Xander to use a bigger rock this time.”
“So he is there! Gosh, he’s quiet,” Peter said. If Alex wasn’t so sure he was using a cellphone, he could’ve sworn he would’ve been curling the cord around his finger. “Still pissed?”
A sharp line of hate spiralled down his spine and exploded through the rest of his limbs. The ends of his fingers twitched and went rigid, then stretched and tore at the air until they found the seat and gouged the cushion. Xander’s answer was ‘yes’. Alex’s answer was ‘no shit’, but he said instead, “What do you think?”
“I guess I did throw him a low blow,” Peter said like he was shrugging. “Normally I’d say ‘my bad’ but he forced my hand. Plus everybody signed consent forms, so why’s he acting like it’s my fault?” Another spiral, scraping his bones as it cut through. “Anyway, since you surely didn’t call to talk about how completely Xander brought everything on himself –” Xander was going to destroy him. “– what’s up?”
Alex thought about it. He probably wasn’t going to have another chance to ask him anything. Peter might’ve been A-OK answering the phone, but Xander was shovelling more self-control than Alex knew he had into this and was he positive the guy was going to make everyone pay for it later. Alex wasn’t going to survive doing this twice. The easy questions seemed so obvious that it felt like he’d be wasting his breath on them, but Peter had a nasty habit of purposefully misinterpreting everything and skipping over important details because ‘I’m pretty sure I implied this earlier. It’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention’. Alex didn’t know how much time he had on anyone’s end. There were so many clocks counting down...
“What are you planning? And –” Alex cut in quickly before the guy started rambling. “– where are you planning it?”
“Right to the heart, huh? Well, I can’t say Mr. Choking-To-Death’s gonna appreciate it, but – sure! I’ll clear a few things up! Basically we’re planning to ambush you midway Xander’s re-transfer so we can get the two of you out of the way. You’re gumming up the works, kids! I mean – hey, I think you’re awesome, but Benny’s past the point where he gives much of a shit about what happens to you two anymore. Not that I’m knocking you for it, ‘cause it worked out really, really well for me, but you probably shouldn’t’ve played so rough with his BFF4L. It’s made him half-‘out to kill you’, half-‘gotta do my job’ and just a smidgeon of ‘KNIFE GOES THROUGH XANDER’S EYE’. Actually, I think that last one’s always been part of the plan. He really doesn’t like you, Xandy. He thinks you’re irresponsible.”
Alex doubted Xander cared.
“What else?”
“Well...” The gagging hadn’t stopped. “Not a whole lot else you don’t know about. Stephanie’s busy with the transfer into Gwen, I’ve got my guys here keeping tabs on Maddy, and I’m mostly here to make sure they arrive at Elmira safely.”
He didn’t know who half these people were.
“‘Mostly’?”
“Mostly,” Peter confirmed. “I’ve got my own project to worry about, but helping them helps me so it’s imperative I make sure you’re dealt with.”
“By ambushing us,” Alex said. “And by telling us we’re going to be ambushed.”
“That’s the plan,” Peter said, trailing off at the end.
“... But that’s not what’s happening?”
“Not if you believe the rumours,” he exclaimed. “The rumours that say ‘by the time you two get here, the Agency’s gonna be the least of your problems’.”
Alex went on the defensive and shot back quickly, “If there’s something bigger in the works, why the hell would we want to come down there at all?”
“‘Cause I miss you and want to throw you a party and ‘cause it’d really help me out if you lent a hand? Or! Or – hear me out! Or because I’m standing a three feet away from a certain stasis cell with a certain ex-employee’s body floating around inside and I am more than willing to press this tiny red button –”
“YOU GET ONE INCH CLOSER AND I’LL RIP YOUR INTESTINES OUT YOUR DICK!”
Thank you, Xander. Thank you so much. Because it wasn’t enough for him to shriek like a monster inside Alex’s head, he had to scream it outside too, for surround sound.
“Xandy’s here! I was worried you –”
“Listen to me, you fuck nugget,” Xander snarled. “I have spent literally every waking moment of my life planning how to kill you. I have every factor considered, every option weighed, and I have obliterated the smallest fucking hope that if Hitler and the Chupacabra raped Stephen Hawking and sacrificed the hate-baby’s soul to Satan, that child still couldn’t come up with a better way to fuck your ghost ass over. For the absolute love of God, I am begging you, do not force me to top what I have planned because you found a way to piss me off even more. I swear to fuck I can’t do it, but I will go batshit insane trying anyway.”
“My goodness,” Peter said. “I didn’t know you cared so much! Well – now I almost think I should flick the switch, just to see –”
“Everything starts with my fist so fucking far down your throat, I pull your balls out from the inside!”
“Huh. That just doesn’t seem possible. Even less than the dick-threading thing. But anyway, you get my point: you have ample motivation to come down here,” Peter explained. “Xander wants his body back and I’m willing to bet he’ll be the teeniest bit more interested in what we’re trying to do if that route gets permanently cut off. It’s in everyone’s best interest for you to be in Charlton, Ally! See? Help me help you! And everyone else! Yaaaaaay – we’re all winners!”
“So you’re after us again,” Alex said.
“Again? I was never after you to begin with! You and Xander were a stepping stone towards me being even greater than I was and I needed to test out a few new powers. No offence, but as fun as brain-popping sounds, it’s not my cup of tea. I need bright and flashy and your seizures are too ‘not that’. Although...” Peter’s voice grew warmer. “I hear you’re packin’ a new kind of punch. Found a pair of sunglasses with holes through ‘em, and since I can’t quite recall the memo saying we have pipes added to our standard-issue arsenal, I’m thinkin’ it’s a new trick pulled out your sleeve. Plus, I have it on video. I’m getting it shown to Benny – he thinks it doesn’t exist.”
“I’ll give everyone a firsthand demonstration.” ... Of whatever he was talking about. Alex had been in la-la land during the Elmira fight, but Gwen had seen it and she’d called it impressive, too. “Anything else I should know?”
“Is there ever?”
“Then I’m hanging up,” Alex said.
“Wait! I lied! One more thing! When you were running around with Nathan, did he sound Australian to you?”
It was such a stupid question, Alex wasn’t sure he should answer it.
“Why would that matter?”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Peter said. “The little bastard...! Alright, well – see you in a few hours! And if you wouldn’t mind disposing of the Agent you captured when you’re done with her, I’d be much obliged. I can’t stand letting useless staff live. Cakes and sprinkles!”
And – click. That was the end of that.
Alex’s jaw relaxed as Xander let go of it. His arms were back under his power, too. His neck still felt stiff and his fingers hadn’t stopped clawing at his seat, but an immense weight fell off him as his senses dialled down to normal. He was glad that was over. Xander took it pretty well, considering the occasional flare of frenzied loathing Alex kept having to push away. Disturbingly well, actually...
“You – uh... okay?”
Sen-fucking-sational.
That was better than what Alex expected.
“We didn’t ask him how he was still alive.”
He waited for the accusing ‘no, you didn’t ask him’, but was relieved to get a bitter ‘That’s the only thing he would lie about,’ instead. He would’ve told us if he wanted us to know. And it doesn’t matter.
“It might if you shoot him and he doesn’t die again.”
It doesn’t matter right now. He’s not gonna stick around when we get there. If he is, then he’s not gonna give a shit what we do. He won’t fight.
His eyes flicked over to the phone. Begrudgingly deciding against tossing the thing out the window, he reached for it and stuck it in the glove department. After that, he looked at Osono.
“Out loud, please. She can’t hear.”
Xander mumbled something Alex couldn’t make out, but he gave in.
“Did any of that shit he said sound like he was lying?”
Trick question, possibly rhetorical, but Alex said, “No.”
“No. Why? ‘Cause he’s an arrogant prick who holds himself ‘above’ that. If he says he’s getting ready for something bigger than us storming the place, we should be getting ready, too.”
“He said that was a rumour,” Alex pointed out.
“Yeah, and he also said he always fucking listens to those. Pay attention, retard.”
Geez, sorry. He couldn't remember everything.
“Then what are we supposed to do?”
“Everything we were in the first place,” Xander snapped, like somehow Alex was making a mistake for asking these kinds of questions. “The problem isn’t how we’re gonna put me back in my body, it’s why. As in, ‘why the fuck is he so eager to get me back in there’? He knows I’m just gonna rip the skin off his face when I get up. There’s literally no benefit in bringing me back, unless there’s every benefit in bringing me back.”
“Oh great! So now not only are we heading for a trap, it’s one designed to get their Xander-Weapon!”
Maybe. Don’t worry about it.
“‘Don’t worry about it’?” Now it was Alex hanging onto the seat. He sat up straighter, thoroughly annoyed. “I’m not going to hand you over if they’re just going to turn around and sic you on us!” It’d suck double for him, seeing as how Xander was the one who took Alex down in the first place. “But they’d have to have some kind of brain-washing machine to do it though, right?”
“Not necessarily.”
Alex’s eyes popped open.
“... They... wouldn’t necessarily need one because...?”
“If you ask me whether I’m rejoining them one more time, I’m gonna open this door and jump into traffic.”
“... But that means you won’t, right?” Xander unlocked the door. “I’m asking so I know for sure!”
“You won’t know for sure because I don’t. I told you the option isn’t off the table and that hasn’t changed. It’s why I said if you have to kill me, don’t wait ‘cause I won’t,” he spat. “Do I have any specific plans to skip over to the recruitment office? Fucking – of course not, but Peter’s gunning for me to pull this off and I don’t know what he’s waiting in the background with.” Xander took that time to seethe for half a minute before getting a grip and talking. “What I meant is that if he’s preparing for more than the shitstorm we’re throwing at his ass, I might wake up in the middle of an even bigger attack, which means he’s expecting me to just kill everything and either hoping I die mid-slaughter or getting ready to shoot me in the face when I’m done. I don’t have to be on their side to help them, dick cheese, even if that’s what Peter’d prefer. But anyway, don’t worry about it.”
He’d been following along until those last four words.
“It’s hard to take you at your word after you finish detailing –”
Do you want me around forever? Because I promise you, by the end of this week, only one person is going to be in here, he roared. “We’re going to Charlton, we’re getting my body back, you two can do whatever the fuck you want after – with or without me – but we literally cannot move forward until we put an end to this shit! Everyone get that, or is someone else gonna run around on a broken foot?”
That was a brilliant thing to say next to fire-woman.
“Calm down –”
“Choke on a dick, Alex,” Xander fired in his face. Then he sealed himself away in his corner and raged, barely keeping to himself in there and slamming against Alex’s mind.
So Xander was sparing them the worst of it, but it was happening with all the grace of a supernova. He was really leaving a great impression.
“Don’t – uh...” Time for damage control, if he could manage it. “Don’t get the wrong idea. He’s not... that bad.” That bad. “He’s on our side, at least. He’s the reason I’ve made it this far and you two’ve been getting along great.” Which was true. Practically every time his mouth had opened and she hadn’t looked like she wanted to slap him for it, it’d been because Xander said something, not Alex. That included when he lied through his teeth. “Let’s – just... be a little more ready for them to throw something at us... But on the bright side, it doesn’t look like Peter knows you’re coming.”
Or Peter didn’t care. Or it didn’t matter in the long-run.
Shit.
AS FOR HER CAT, IT WAS HARDER TO SAY. THIS WAS A MAN WHO HAD NEVER SUPPORTED THEIR CAUSE BUT WHO HAD ALSO NEVER TURNED THEM IN. OTHER THAN GETTING HIM ON HER DESK, ANY DIRECT FORM OF INTERACTION HELD AN IMMENSE RISK. HE MET THE CORE CRITERIA – HATED PATTEN, KNEW THEIR ROLES, WAS EXTREMELY, EXTREMELY FRENCH – BUT DESPITE THE GOOD WORD PUT IN FOR HIM OVER THE YEARS, ONE STEADFAST CONCLUSION HAD BEEN REACHED: BENOIT WAS NOT LEAVING THE AGENCY AND THAT MADE HIM HER ENEMY. HER FRENCH ENEMY. VERY FRENCH. THE DESK WAS ALSO ROUND FIVE. AND SEVEN. AND TWELVE. REGARDLESS, THIS PUT HER IN A DELICATE POSITION. FROM WHAT SHE HAD GATHERED, ORDERS WERE ORDERS AND HE FOLLOWED THE HIERARCHY AS CLOSELY AS ANYONE. IF PATTEN HAD SENT HIM TO GUARD HER AS A SORT OF TETHER, THEN THE WORD OF AN A-2 WOULD NOT BE ENOUGH TO CHANGE HER PRETTY KITTY’S MIND. SHE HAD TO LOSE HIM IF SHE PLANNED ON ANY PROGRESS BEING MADE. HE WASN’T STUPID; HE WOULD HAVE TO ASK QUESTIONS, ESPECIALLY FOR WHY AN A-2 WOULD LEAVE HER BUILDING UNANNOUNCED, AND IF PATTEN HAD NOT ONLY TOLD HIM TO WATCH HER BUT REPORT, THEN HE MIGHT AS WELL HAVE BEEN ORDERED TO ATTACK. FORTUNATELY, HE HAD YET TO SHOW ANY SIGN OF THAT, MEANING ONE OF TWO THINGS: HE EITHER HAD NO IDEA WHAT SHE WAS DOING OR ELSE PATTEN DIDN’T. THERE WAS A CASE TO BE MADE FOR NEITHER KNOWING – THAT JACKASS HAD ENOUGH REASON TO COME FOR HER ALREADY – AND WHILE THERE WAS THE SLIM CHANCE THAT BOTH KNEW, THE LENGTHS PATTEN HAD GONE TRYING TO DRAG HER NAME THROUGH THE MUD, USELESSLY WORKING TO DISCREDIT HER ENOUGH TO HAVE CHARLOTTE SHIPPED TO WHERE HE FELT SHE BELONGED, SPOKE OF A THIN DESPERATION THAT WOULD HAVE GRABBED AT THIS KNOWLEDGE WITHOUT HESITATION. PATTEN COULD NOT KNOW OR THE AGENCY WOULD HAVE COME FOR HER BY NOW. THEN THE IDIOT COULD STAY IN THE DARK. HER TRUE PROBLEM WAS HOW TO HANDLE HER CAT.
“BETTER?”
“No.”
POOR KITTY. AS MUCH AS SHE PLANNED FOR DIRTY, UNSPEAKABLE THINGS HAPPEN TO HIM BY THE END OF THIS HOUR, THE SILENCE IN HIS BREATH CONVINCED HER TO WAIT. THEY WERE CERTAINLY COMING TO THE END OF THAT – FIVE MORE MINUTES AND THEN SHE WAS CHAINING HIM TO SOMETHING – BUT FOR NOW, IT WAS THE LEAST SHE COULD DO. SHE WAS CONCERNED. HE BARELY FOUGHT WHEN SHE BROUGHT HIM BACK INTO HER OFFICE, AND HIS EVERY PROTEST WAS HUSHED EVEN AS SHE LOCKED AND BOLTED THE DOOR. TRUE, HE VANISHED THROUGH THE FIRST BARRICADE IN SECONDS WHEN HE ESCAPED BEFORE, BUT THE LOCKS SHE USED THIS TIME WERE CLEARLY STRONGER AND HE STILL HAD NOT FLINCHED. ALTHOUGH... HE WAS DIFFICULT TO JUDGE WITH HIS EYES COVERED, AND THE MOST SHE COULD SEE OF HIM WAS HIS SIDE AS HE IDLY FACED THE WALL ON HER RIGHT, BUT HE HAD OTHER TELLS, FIRST AND FOREMOST THAT HE DEVOURED AN ENTIRE PACK OF CIGARETTES AND WOULD NOT STOP REACHING FOR NEW ONES. THE PIECE MISSING FROM THIS PICTURE WAS PACING, BUT HER KITTY WAS TOO REFINED TO WASTE TIME ON THAT. SHE COULD FEEL HIM PACING ON THE INSIDE, ANYWAY. THE MAN WAS MARRIED TO THE BITTER CONCEPT OF MOVEMENT, BUT APPARENTLY ONLY EVER SHOWED IT OFF AROUND HER. SHE WAS SPECIAL. THE REST OF THE TIME, HE RESTED QUIETLY IN THE SHADOWS. IN THEIR EARLY DAYS, JEAN HAD WHINED THAT HE WAS ‘LAZY’. IT SEEMED EVERYONE HAD THAT OPINION AT FIRST, AND IT SEEMED ALMOST AS MANY TOOK IT BACK BY THE END. THE WOMAN AGENT – NOT FRENCH, NO ONE NEEDED HER NAME – HAD YET TO DO SO. WHAT AN INTERESTING DYNAMIC, AND IF SHE SPOKE TO HER CAT LIKE THAT AGAIN, MADELINE WOULD BREAK HER THROAT. UNTIL THEN, THE FACT REMAINED THE WOMAN ALREADY HAD, AND NOW SHE MUST BE SURE HER KITTY WAS WELL BEFORE SHE MOVED ON TO ANYTHING ELSE.
“NOW ARE YOU BETTER?”
“No.”
DAMN.
SHE COULD BE PATIENT. SHE REMEMBERED HOW. THE BEST THINGS CAME TO THOSE WHO WAITED, AND HER SUPPORT WOULD PUT HIM INTO HER DEBT. SHE EXPECTED A FULL REPAYMENT, PLUS INTEREST, PLUS PATIENCE FEES, IN... FOUR MINUTES NOW. THE CLOCK ON HER DESK MADE THE RIGHT DECISION BY COUNTING DOWN. IT HAD BEEN TAKING SO LONG THAT HER HAND HAD STARTED TO REACH FOR IT. SHE WENT FOR IT AGAIN, ROCKING IT BETWEEN HER FINGERS. HURRY UP, STUPID CLOCK, OR YOU WILL JOIN YOUR BROTHERS IN THE SHRAPNEL PILE.
“WOULD TALKING MAKE YOU BETTER?”
AT HER WORDS, HAVING BROKEN ANOTHER SHORT SILENCE BETWEEN THEM, HE TURNED HIS HEAD TO FACE HER.
“Talking about what?”
“I DON’T KNOW. ABOUT WHATEVER PEOPLE TALK ABOUT WHEN THEY SAY THEY WANT TO TALK.”
SHE HAD THE FEELING HE WAS ROLLING HIS EYES. SHE INTENDED TO COMMENT ON THE NOTION WHEN HE INTERRUPTED HER INSTEAD, SUGGESTING, “Why don’t I give you a signal or something? I’ll wave.”
THE CLOCK MADE CLICKING NOISES AS SHE ROLLED IT AROUND. OVER THE THIN NOISE, SHE ASTUTELY REMARKED, “IT’S GOING TO BE HARD TO SEE WITH MY TONGUE DOWN YOUR THROAT.”
HE COULD TRY AND DENY IT, BUT HE ONLY HAD THREE MINUTES AND TWELVE SECONDS LEFT. WHY DID HE INSIST ON PUTTING IT OFF? IF HE WAS UPSET, THIS WOULD CHEER HIM UP. SHE WAS MORE THAN WILLING TO PROVE THE POINT. SHE WOULD EVEN LET HIM TAKE OVER.
“I’ll tap,” HE MUTTERED, MORE RELUCTANT THAN SHE PREFERRED. AND MISTAKEN, FOR WHICH SHE HAD TO RESPOND.
“BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY YOUR HANDS WILL NOT BE FREE FOR THAT.”
“Just stop talking,” HE TOLD HER. VERY LUCKY. AT THE LAST MOMENT, HE REMEMBERED TO BE POLITE, AND SO HIS WORDS, WHILE QUITE INFORMAL, ENDED WITH A BRUSHED NOTE OF RESPECT, COMPLETE WITH THEIR DELICATE FRENCH FLAIR THAT SENT A RISE THROUGH HER CHEST. TWO MINUTES. AT MOST. “I have enough to think about without adding you to the list.”
PATTEN. ASKING WOULD HAVE BEEN POINTLESS WHEN SHE SO ASSUREDLY KNEW THE ANSWER. HER CLOCK HAD BEEN PROMOTED. RATHER THAN SERVING TO DAWDLE THROUGH A COUNTDOWN, IT GAVE HER A TOY TO PUT HER GRIP ON OTHER THAN PATTEN’S STOLEN NECK. THE MAN MADE HER SICK. HE WAS SICK, AND LOGIC FAILED TO DICTATE WHY HE, OF ALL PEOPLE, HAD LATCHED ON TO SOMEONE AS DISTINGUISHED AS HER KITTY AND THE NOT-FRENCH WOMAN. IT COULD HAVE BEEN ANSWERED WITH HER NEXT QUESTION, THE ONE THAT HAD PRESSED ON HER MIND FOR HOURS: WHAT WAS PATTEN DOING POSSESSING JEAN? SHE KNEW HOW HIS POWERS WORKED AND THEIR ONLY KNOWN AND KEY RESTRICTION WAS FOR VICTIMS TO BE DEAD. JEAN DYING, AS UNFAIRLY UNLIKELY AS IT STOOD, WAS IMPOSSIBLE WITHOUT LEAVING A MARK, AND UNLESS PATTEN HAD SPONTANEOUSLY GROWN THE STRENGTH TO HEAL HIS CORPSES AT LONG LAST AND HAD DONE THE UTMOST THOROUGH JOB IMAGINABLE IN THE TIME SINCE JEAN HAD LAST CHECKED IN, WHICH HAD BEEN YESTERDAY TO REPORT AD COMPLAIN ABOUT AN INCOMPETENT CHILD WITH WHOM THEY HAD MERGED PATHS, SHE SUSPECTED FOUL PLAY. THERE WAS NO LEGITIMATE WAY OF WINNING, BUT THE GHOST COULD BARELY REMEMBER HIS ONE RULE OF ‘THERE ARE NO RULES’ THANKS TO HIS ABHORRENT GAME OF IGNORING EVERYTHING THE AGENCY STOOD FOR AND THEN FORCING THE HANDBOOK ON ANYONE WHO INCHED OUT OF LINE, LET ALONE FOLLOW THE BASIC LAW OF CIVILIZED WAR. IF THE ELEMENT OF SURPRISE WAS IN HIS HANDS, ANYTHING FROM AN ELEPHANT TO A WHALE HAD REASON TO TREAD LIGHTLY. UNFORTUNATELY, HER CONCERNS COULD NOT END THERE, AND AT THAT UNDERSTANDING, HER NAILS BIT INTO THE SIDES OF HER CLOCK AND STAYED THERE.
THERE TRULY WAS NO NEED FOR CONCERN. THE LOWEST SCENT OF WEAKNESS WOULD HAVE HAD HIM AT HER DOORSTEP, AND WHILE HE PRESENTLY WAS AT HER DOORSTEP, IT WAS AFTER A HALF-PLANNED THRILL RIDE TO PLAGUE HER CAT WITH HIS BEING BECAUSE PATTEN WAS A BUBBLY FOOL WITHOUT ANY SENSE OF RESTRAINT. HE DID IT ALL THE TIME WITH EVERYONE ELSE AND NOTHING HAD COME OF IT, AND SHE INCLUDED THE OTHER ARMY OF MINIONS HE ALSO SENT TO WATCH HER EVERY SO OFTEN. SHE SHOULD BE CELEBRATING. SHE WAS FINALLY ‘DANGEROUS’ ENOUGH TO WARRANT AN A-3’S GUARD NOW. AND FRENCH! HAD SHE MENTIONED THAT? WHEN THE TALONS OF FATE ROSE FROM THE EARTH AND PULLED PATTEN TO HIS FIERY PIT OF TERROR, SHE HOPED NOW THE REVENGE OF THOSE HE HAD WRONGED BROUGHT BACK TO TORMENT HIM FOR ETERNITY STUNG HIM A TINY, TINY BIT LESS. SHE WAS SOOTHED. UNTIL HE BROUGHT ON ACTIVE, DEDICATED MONITORING, SHE WAS SAFE, AND CONSIDERING SHE WOULD BE FULLY AWARE OF THE RIGOROUS APPLICATIONS PROCESS FOR SUCH MONITORING ON TOP OF IT – THE AGENCY’S FAVOURITE TIME-WASTER, SHE HAD NOTICED, AND GREATLY ENFORCED BY PATTEN EVEN IN THE FACE OF OBSTACLE IT PERSONALLY POSED FOR HIM – AND THAT IT WOULD TAKE AGES BESIDES, SHE HAD TO WONDER IF THEY TRULY ESTABLISHED THE SYSTEM OR IF ONE OF THEIR THOUSANDS OF ENEMIES HAD SLIPPED IN AND DONE IT INSTEAD.
PATTEN WAS STUPID. AND THROUGH THE SILENT CONNECTION SHE HAD MADE WITH HER NEW PET, SHE COULD FEEL A RESOUNDING AGREEMENT. IT DID NOT, APPARENTLY, MEAN THEY WERE ANY CLOSER TO STRIPPING. THAT WAS FINE – SHE LIKED HIM IN HIS SUIT AND THESE CLOTHES COST TOO MUCH TO CARELESSLY THROW TO THE SIDE – BUT CONSIDERING HOW ACCOMMODATING SHE HAD THUS FAR, HE OWED HER SEX RIGHT NOW. WHAT WAS THE PROBLEM? HE HAD SAID NOTHING WAS WRONG, AND WHEN HIS ASSURANCE FAILED TO IMMEDIATELY REMEDY THEIR SITUATION, SHE HAD GONE AHEAD AND INQUIRED AS TO WHETHER SOMETHING ELSE, FOR SOME UNFATHOMABLE REASON, WAS DISTRACTING HIM. AGAIN NO, TO THE SQUABBLE IN THE STASIS CELL CHAMBER, TO WHETHER HE WAS GRIEVING, TO WHETHER IT WAS THE SAME QUEASY CHURN IN HIS STOMACH SHE ALWAYS GOT WHENEVER PATTEN INFECTED HER BREATHING SPACE, AND NOW SHE WAS MADE TO SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES OF EITHER NOT GUESSING THE ANSWER DIRECTLY OR HIM HAVING REALIZED SHE WAS MUCH LESS AGGRESSIVE WHEN SHE THOUGHT HE WAS SAD. HOW COWARDLY. SHE TWISTED ONE ARM AND SUDDENLY SHE WAS ‘VIOLENT’.
...WELL, SHE SUPPOSED EVERYTHING ELSE SHE DID TO HIM COUNTED, BUT ONLY JUST. HE HAD GOTTEN THE SHACKLES OFF, HADN’T HE?
“ENOUGH.” SHE WAS ON HER FEET. THE CLOCK DROPPED ON HER DESK AND SHE SLAMMED HER HANDS INTO THE WOOD. THE SOUND WAS ENOUGH TO GET HIS HEAD TO TURN, BUT NOTHING MORE AND ONLY FOR A MOMENT. “I AM TIRED OF WAITING. IF YOU CANNOT BE FORCED –” THAT HAD NOT BEEN DISCOVERED THROUGH LACK OF TRYING. “– I WILL ATTEND TO OTHER MATTERS.” ENSURING PATTEN WAS NOT DESTROYING HER BUILDING WAS ALMOST AS IMPORTANT AS UNWRAPPING HER GIFT. “YOU WILL FOLLOW WHEN YOU TIRE OF TEASING ME.”
HER CAT SMIRKED. GOOD TO KNOW HE WAS ENJOYING HIMSELF ON SOME LEVEL.
THE OFFICE IN WHICH SHE REIGNED THRIVED IN THE CORNER OF HER BUILDING’S SECOND FLOOR. SHE MADE A POINT OF SITTING CLOSE TO THE GROUND RATHER THAN HIDE FURTHER UPSTAIRS. IT HELD MORE AUTHORITY AND ENSURED NO ONE COULD ENTER OR LEAVE HER PREMISES WITHOUT HER EXPRESS ACKNOWLEDGEMENT. FOR SITUATIONS OUTSIDE HER DIRECT LINE OF SIGHT, SHE HAD THE SURVEILLANCE ROOM, HIDDEN UNDER THE WEIGHTED CURTAINS SHE USED TO COVER HER WALLS, WINDOWS AND TOO-BRIGHT DECOR OF THE LAST A-2’S PATHETIC RULE. LIGHT, SHE HAD DECIDED, REACHING BEYOND HER MIGHTY TAPESTRIES FOR HER MAGIC ROOM’S HANDLE, WAS THE GREAT DISTRACTION OF THE WORLD. THE WEEK SHE HAD REMOVED IT FROM HER CASTLE, HER STAFF HAD TRANSFORMED FROM WEAK-WILLED, ABSENTMINDED, HYPERACTIVE DOGS INTO CALCULATED SYMBOLS OF EFFICIENCY. WAS THERE ANY WONDER WHY SHE WAS HELD IN SUCH REGARD? PATTEN SHOULD HAVE BEEN PROUD, CONSIDERING THE PAGE SHE USED WAS DIRECTLY OUT OF HIS BOOK: THIS BUILDING WAS LAUGHABLE TO CONTROL WHEN SHE ASSUMED EVERYONE WAS DUMB AND COULD NOT BE TRUSTED.
“Where are you off to?”
“WHAT DOES IT MATTER?” SHE GAVE HIM A POINTED LOOK. “WOULD ANYTHING CHANGE?”
“It might.” HE WAS LYING. AND AS IF HE KNEW PRECISELY WHAT HAD PASSED THROUGH HER THOUGHTS, HE SHRUGGED AND ADDED ON, “You aren’t having much luck with me so far.” SHE KNEW IT! HE WAS DOING IT ON PURPOSE! TO WHICH HE REPLIED, “Not completely.”
SHE SCOWLED.
“GET OUT OF MY HEAD.”
“And now you don’t want me in you. Make up your mind.”
HE WAITED FOR HER RESPONSE TO THAT. BY THE EXPRESSION ON HIS FACE, SHE HAD TO ASSUME HERS WAS OBVIOUSLY IN DEEP CONSIDERATION OF HIS WORDS.
“ALRIGHT,” SHE SUPPOSED. “BUT YOU TOUCH NOTHING!”
SHE GAVE HIM A POINTED LOOK, THEN TURNED BRISKLY AND FLIPPED UP THE CURTAIN. THERE WAS THE HANDLE TO HER BEAUTIFUL, TWELVE BOLT, EIGHT HINGE, SIXTEEN CENTIMETRE-THICK STEEL DOOR, AS UNOPENED AS SHE HAD LEFT IT AND COLDER THAN ARCTIC ICE TO THE TOUCH. THE HANDLE WAS SET TO RESPOND TO HER HAND – AND ONLY HER HAND, WHICH HAD PAID FOR ITSELF DURING SEVERAL OF PATTEN’S AFORE-MENTIONED INVESTIGATIONS – AND IT GAVE A SEASONED CLICK AS THE LOCK DISENGAGED. THE DOOR SURGED WITH LIFE AS THE BOLTS RETRACTED, ITS INSIDES SPINNING AS IT FREED ITSELF FROM ITS POST AND GROANING LIGHTLY BEFORE IT PULLED AWAY AND SLID INTO THE WALL. IMMEDIATELY, HER EYES WERE WASHED BY THE GLOW OF HER FORTY-SEVEN SCREENS EMBEDDED IN EVERY SIDE OF THE ROOM, EACH FILLED WITH THE SMART ILLUSTRATION OF EXACTLY WHAT WAS HAPPENING IN HER BUILDING. IN THE CENTER, PROUDLY KNEELING BEFORE THE LARGEST AND CENTRAL SCREEN, WAS HER TRUE CHAIR, OUT OF REACH OF ANYONE WHO SOUGHT TO RUIN HER THROUGH POOR LUMBAR SUPPORT. THIS WAS HER GREAT SANCTUARY. HER CAT LOOKED QUIETLY IMPRESSED, AND RIGHTLY SO.
“I find it hard to believe there are others here,” HE SAID. “Other than your death squad, this building seems abandoned.”
“MY WORKERS ARE OUT OF SIGHT UNTIL THEY ARE NEEDED.” AND IT WAS HIS FAULT FOR JOINING UP WITH PATTEN. HER ‘DEATH SQUAD’ NEEDED MORE PRACTISE. OR AT LEAST THE NEXT ONE WOULD. “THERE IS NO SMOKING IN MY ROOM.”
HE STARED AT HER FOR SEVERAL SECONDS, TOOK THE CIGARETTE OUT OF HIS MOUTH, POLITELY COMMENTED, “Oh look, I suddenly lost all interest in you,” AND THEN PUT THE CIGARETTE BACK IN. “Amazing. I’m back to entertaining the idea.”
“THAT IS CALLED BLACKMAIL!”
“Actually, it’s prostitution.” AND ANOTHER SHRUG! “I can’t be the only one getting nothing out of this. Be grateful I haven’t asked for more.” HE SNORTED AT HER! “The market these days... And what is Eric up to?”
“I DON’T KNOW!” SHE COULD NOT BELIEVE THIS! HE WAS INTENTIONALLY PLAYING GAMES WITH HER! “YOU CANNOT –”
“Who is that?”
HER FISTS WERE BALLED AND HER TEETH WERE CLENCHED, AND THOUGH SHE COULD CRANE HER NECK TOWARDS HER CENTRAL SCREEN, THE GLOW OF WHICH HAD TAKEN ON A MOCKING HUE AND ONLY FURTHER ANNOYED HER, HER BODY WAS TENSE AND POISED TO FIGHT. HE IGNORED HER IN FAVOUR OF WHAT THE HIGHER-RANKED BUFFOON WAS DOING. MOVEMENT CAUGHT HER EYE AND STOLE HER BUDDING OBJECTION, BUT SHE HAD NOT GIVEN UP. THIS WAS HER BUILDING AND HE WAS HER CAT AND THAT WOULD NOT CHANGE. IN THE MEANTIME, WHAT WAS PATTEN UP TO? WHO WAS THAT?
“HE IS NEW. HE IS NOT ONE OF MINE.” SHE STRODE TO HER CHAIR, WORKING HARD TO KEEP FROM STOMPING AND MANAGING FAIRLY WELL. AFTER HALF A MINUTE IN HER SEAT AND WORKING TECHNOLOGICAL SORCERY NO ONE ELSE WOULD UNDERSTAND, SHE BLANDLY NOTED, “HIS NAME –”
“Quin. He must have brought Stewart.”
MORE ‘GUESTS’. SHE WAS ILL.
“HOW MUCH WORSE IS HE THAN PATTEN?”
“Ask March. I have yet to meet him.”
“THEN HOW DO YOU KNOW WHO HE IS?”
“March was expecting him. And it’s on your list of entry codes – immediately following, I might add, a failed registration of Eric’s. Did you lock him out?”
“YES,” SHE SNAPPED, “AND HOW DID YOU KNOW?”
“I take it that list was meant to be secure?”
“AS IS EVERYTHING INVOLVING MY FACILITIES. THAT IS WHY THEY ARE CLASSIFIED AS SECURE.”
“So they are,” HE SAID. “A week earlier and they would have remained as such, but I recently invested in newer technology saying I have a free pass to all Agency data.” HE POINTED TO HIS SUNGLASSES. “I like keeping track of people, too.”
SHE CROSSED HER ARMS. HE WAS AMUSED.
“THAT IS A LOT OF ACCESS FOR AN A-3.”
“Yes,” HE PROUDLY AGREED. “It is.”
THIS COULD NOT BE THE MAN JEAN HAD TALKED ABOUT.
“MY KITTY IS MUCH LESS HONOUR-BOUND THAN I WAS LED TO BELIEVE.”
“Which is still more than you should,” HE TOLD HER. “And stop calling me that.” HE POINTED AT THE SCREEN. “Does this have sound?”
WHO DID HE THINK SHE WAS? OF COURSE IT DID. IT TOOK A MOMENT FOR HER EYES TO LEAVE HIM – THIS WAS AN INTERESTING REVELATION SHE HAD TO THINK ABOUT – BUT SHE FLICKED HER HAND ACROSS A SWITCH AND BOMBARDED THEM WITH NOISE. WHOEVER THIS QUIN WAS, HIS VOICE WAS GRATING. AND HER CAT, READING HER MIND AGAIN, HAD FOUND SOMETHING WORTH CHUCKLING ABOUT. SHE FROWNED AT HIM, SOMEHOW PUSHING IT TO A LAUGH, BUT WHATEVER THE SMALL MAN HAD BEEN SAYING, HE HAD FINISHED. NOW HE HAD TO LISTEN.
PATTEN AND HIS TRICKS WOULD NOT WORK IN HERE. THE ONLY FEELINGS SHE HAD FROM WATCHING HIM WAS IMMENSE CONTEMPT FOR THE INVASION OF HER PROPERTY AND SATISFACTION IN KNOWING HER CAMERAS WERE PERFECTLY ANGLED. THERE WERE NO BLIND SPOTS, NO SHADOWS, NO ROOM FOR ANYONE TO HIDE, AND IT ROBBED HIM OF ANY MEANS TO INTIMIDATE IN HIS TRADITIONAL WAY. UNFORTUNATELY, HE REALIZED THIS, AND THE BLATANT CHANGE IN HIS DIRECTION WAS LOUD ENOUGH TO HEAR. HE WOULD BE FRIENDLY, HE HAD DECIDED. HE WOULD GRIN AND HE WOULD LAUGH AND HE WOULD CHANNEL THE SOUL OF A PLAYFUL CHILD FOR EVERYONE TO GIGGLE AT AND TICKLE. THEN HE WOULD KILL THEM. OVER A DOZEN TAPES OF HIM DOING EXACTLY THAT – IN HER BUILDING ALONE – SAT IN HER FILES, NEATLY COMPLIED FOR ANYONE WHO WISHED TO SEE A MESS. THE PIXELS ON HER SCREEN WERE USED TO IT ENOUGH TO SHINE IN ANTICIPATION, EAGERLY AWAITING THE DAMAGE SHE WAS SURE WOULD HAVE TO BE WASHED OFF EACH OF HER STASIS CELLS. IT BEGAN, AS IT ALWAYS DID, WITH THAT – STUPID – SMILE. JEAN WAS NOT MEANT TO HAVE THAT SMILE BUT IT STRETCHED OVER HIS FACE AS IF IT MEANT TO CONSUME HIM. THOSE TEETH MADE HER NAILS CURL INTO THE ARMS OF HER CHAIR, AND THE MERRY STEPS HE TOOK TO BREAK THE DISTANCE BETWEEN HIMSELF AND HIS NEW ‘FRIEND’ – NOW LIKELY MARKED AS A BACK-UP CORPSE OR ELSE AS DECORATION – BROUGHT BILE TO THE BACK OF HER TONGUE. HIS MOUTH WOULD NOT STOP GROWING. IT BECAME A SHINING LINE THAT NEARLY SPLIT HIS FACE IN TWO, GLEAMING AS HIS LIPS BROUGHT ON A STIR OF UTTER JOY AND ENDLESS ENTERTAINMENT.
“YOUR FRIEND DID NOT DESERVE THIS.” SHE SNEERED AT WHAT JEAN HAD BECOME. SHE EXPECTED AN AGREEMENT TO FOLLOW HER WORDS, BUT THE SOUND OF EMPTY SPACE RANG IN HER EARS. “KITTY?” HER KITTY WAS GONE. SHE INTENDED TO FIND HIM, BUT PATTEN’S VOICE – JEAN’S VOICE, UNFORGIVABLY WARPED – SWEPT OUT AND CURIOSITY COMPELLED HER TO STAY.
“Rudy, I’m so sorry! I had no idea you expected that much,” HE SAID, INSUFFERABLY WARM AND FULL OF DEVOTION. “Geez – now I just feel like I’ve failed you. That isn’t a happy feeling! Maybe...” HE PONDERED THIS WITH A FINGER ON HIS CHIN. “Well... would you prefer the Darth Vader thing?” THEN HE MOVED. HIS HAND GRABBED THE AGENT BY HIS NECK, SWALLOWING THE BOTTOM HALF OF THE LITTLE ONE’S HEAD WITH THE REST OF IT. THEN INTO THE AIR, LEFT TO DANGLE BY HIS THROAT, WAS PATTEN’S NEW TOY, VERY CLOSE TO BEING HANGED AND BLEEDING FROM WOUNDS THAT HAD VALIANTLY TRIED TO CLOT. TO NO ONE’S SURPRISE, HE GRINNED, CLEARLY HAVING DONE THIS AGENT A FAVOUR. “So? Better? I mean – sure – not authentic, obviously, but it’s the best I can do since that one –” HE NODDED AT THE CENTERMOST CELL. “– snatched the Force away after he blew up my brain. Only one person on the planet with telekinesis and he smooshes it into paste! But I digress – you were saying something about Brannigan? Wilkerson? Something like that? Do go on, Rudy! I love stories! And then we can have a chat about everything else you said, ‘kays?”
SHE WANTED HER CAT. IF THE AGENT HAD NOT BEEN TORN APART ON SIGHT, SHE HAD TIME BEFORE THE MAN CHOSE TO FINISH HIM. WHERE WAS HER CAT? SHE SPUN IN HER SEAT. HE WAS NO LONGER IN THE ROOM. HE HAD LEFT HER! UNACCEPTABLE! SHE WAS ON HER FEET WITH TWO SHARP STRIKES OF HER SHOES AND OUTSIDE OF HER VAULT IN SECONDS. THE LOCKS WERE STILL ON THE DOOR, SHE NOTED, SO HE HAD TO BE SOMEWHERE –
“YOU ARE IN MY CHAIR.”
“This is my chair now.”
AND HE LOOKED COMFORTABLE IN IT, EXCEPT FOR THAT HE WAS SMOKING FASTER THAN BEFORE. HER CONCERN HAD RETURNED. SHE WOULD IGNORE THE THEFT OF HER CHAIR UNTIL THIS WAS ADDRESSED.
“YOU ARE UPSET.” HER WORK TO CALM HIM DOWN HAD BEEN UNDONE AND HIS GENTLE SENSE OF PATIENCE HAD BEEN TRADED IN FOR A RAGGED LINE OF HATE. HER EYES NARROWED AT WHOSE FAULT IT WAS. PATTEN’S TECHNIQUE HAD EVOLVED: HE NO LONGER NEEDED TO BE IN THE ROOM TO PICK AT THOSE ON HIS LIST. “I WILL FIX IT.”
“I’m well enough to refuse your generosity.” HE SAID IT AS HE PRODUCED HIS MILLIONTH SNACK OF POISON. “Go back to watching. He could be up to something.”
PATTEN WAS ALWAYS UP TO SOMETHING. THIS WOULD END NO DIFFERENTLY THAN USUAL. SHE SHOULD BE HERE WITH HER CAT. HE WAS UNHAPPY. ALSO, THEY WERE NOT PRESENTLY HAVING SEX, AND THAT SHE COULD NOT ABIDE. THE DECISION WAS MADE FOR HER WHEN SHE HEARD BUZZING FROM INSIDE HER VAULT. A PHONE CALL. IT WAS NOT FOR HER, BUT FOR PATTEN, AND SHE SO ADORED LISTENING TO HIS CONVERSATIONS.
“YOU WILL NOT GO IN?”
“I’ve had my fill. But by all means, enjoy.”
“AND YOU WILL STAY,” SHE SAID.
“You put locks on the door. I can’t get out.”
HE WAS LYING AGAIN. SHE FROWNED FOR AS LONG AS SHE WAS ABLE, IMPRESSING UPON HIM THE EXTENT OF HER DISAPPOINTMENT SHOULD HE FORCE HER TO HUNT HIM DOWN A SECOND TIME. WHEN HE NODDED IN RESPONSE TO THIS, AS CLOSE TO CONSENT AS HE WOULD GO, SHE TURNED BRISKLY AND RETURNED TO HER VAULT TO PLACE THE CALL’S LOCATION. FROM WHAT SHE GATHERED, THREE SEPARATE SCHEDULES WERE IN PLACE: PATTEN AND HIS RUSH TO HAVE THE STEWART TRANSFER COMPLETED, HER KITTY AND HIS TIMED APPROACH OF ALEXANDER, AND DANIELLE’S SHOW OF EXPLOSIONS TO BE DELIVERED IN A SIMPLE MATTER OF HOURS. IN ORDER FOR THE LAST ONE TO WORK, THE FIRST TWO HAD TO SUCCEED. ANY NEWS COULD BE THE HAMMER ON THEIR GLASS CASTLE OF PREPARATION, AND SO EVERY WORD HAD TO BE MONITORED. ON A MORE POSITIVE NOTE, CONSIDERING THE COMPANY PATTEN KEPT AND HIS DISTINCT SENSE OF HOSPITALITY, THE WORST THIS CALL COULD DO WAS SPEED THE URGE TO KILL HIM. SHE SUPPORTED THAT WHOLE-HEARTEDLY. IT MEANT SHE COULD PLAY HER KITTY THAT MUCH SOONER.
* * *
Why did it sound like whenever Osono said she’d go along with what they were doing, she was quietly charging a firebomb to set off in the car? Oh, right, because she probably was. And who could blame her, thanks to their spectacular timing? Five seconds after she stopped freaking out over Alex maybe being an Agent, the ‘great revelation’ about there being a real Agent with them popped out. He should’ve been acting crazier or – hell – after all these years, he still didn’t have one foolproof explanation for what was going on with him? Anything was better than the truth. And did Xander have any extra motivation to reassure her? Nope! Not a drop! Not from what Alex was feeling, which was jack shit like it usually was. He could hope he all wanted, but he had a damn good hunch that unless it was spelled out, Xander wouldn’t bother doing anything to make her feel better about him riding around in his head before he called an even worse guy. And his name? Really?
“Don’t waste your breath, he’s not gonna tell you,” Alex muttered. “Just call him Xander like everyone else.”
And ‘everyone else’ was turning into an uncomfortable list.
“‘Cause I won’t respond to anything else. For the record, it’s Marshall.”
Hilarious. Anyway, what they would have to do – No, seriously. Doubly hilarious. Whatever. Can I do this now?
If she was already on the edge of her seat, they weren’t going to keep leaving her in suspense. The phone would use its speaker so everybody could hear and Alex would go nuts trying to fill in any gaps along the way. That was assuming they made it to Peter, though. He got the logic behind the call and everything, but... man... Was all the information Xander wanted really Peter-exclusive? So long as they were parading around as him, Alex was sure they could’ve squeezed one or two secrets out of the girl in their trunk. Come on – how hard was it to say ‘where’s the last place you saw me?’
I’m hoping to get something more up-to-date.
“Directly from the guy whose name makes you froth,” he said. “You want to hear his voice. As in... his voice. Talking.”
I don’t ‘froth’. That’s beneath me. And yes, I have to hear his voice so I know if he’s alive. This was sounding more like a personal call by the second. Oh – I’m sorry, boss. I didn’t realize this only pertained to my interests.
“Just promise you won’t go crazy if it turns out he’s still around. You’re already jumpy and you’ve only got my finger over the number.” And he was twitching it like he was on crack. Or on Starbucks. “And that’s ‘if’ – remember. If.”
Aren’t we Mr. Fucking Sunshine? ‘We’ were not. If Xander had eyes, he would’ve been rolling them, which followed the rest of his mood on its steady decline. I hate you when you’re optimistic. But sure, whatever, ‘if’. Calling.
He pressed the screen. The little bar flashing ‘Lead’ lit briefly, then dropped away as the main call screen went up. Alex put it on speakerphone before this went any further, and then in a flash of foresight he really wasn’t used to, put the phone in a nestled groove on the dashboard, one that could’ve been installed purely for that purpose or to hold CDs or tapes or... Nobody used tapes anymore. CDs then, he guessed. Since they were on the highway, he wasn’t expecting any sharp turns to knock it out of that hold, but it sure as hell kept it away of his – meaning Xander’s – hands when he decided to break things. Alex expected it to happen whether or not he got his reunion; the guy had a fairly set way of handling things that bothered him and a ‘no answer’, as he had firmly noted many times throughout his life, was just as bad getting one.
“I don’t know every detail of what you’ve gone through,” Alex said, making sure the phone would stay put, “but I’m guessing you never got the full ‘evil, crazy bureaucracy’ side of the Agents before. These people really like knowing who’s in charge and they run themselves like a government-meets-army. I don’t even have a full idea, but I’m willing to bet no one besides their leader truly does. So...” The mechanical chime was aggravating. He gave a nod towards it, then because he had time until the Agency answered, scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and kept trying to explain. “Peter is... well – Xander says he’s higher up on the food chain than anyone I’ve run into so far. I met him a year after I ‘got’ this guy.” Quotation, quotation, and Alex did the hand gesture on top of it. “Peter said he was one of us. He had powers and he basically tried to talk us into going to the Agency so they could finish the job or whatever the plan was, but it didn’t work. Sometime during the middle of it, the wrong thing was said and two weeks later I was melting his brain. ... Not literally.”
“And then I smashed a rock through his face until I saw the ground again,” Xander said. “Very literally, so why the fuck is he back?”
“Calm down...”
I am calm!
And they weren’t picking up. Peter might have been important – or something – but if one of his lackeys was trying to reach him, shouldn’t he have been in more of a rush to check in? He had no reason not to. There was no way word could’ve gotten out about them kidnapping the woman so there shouldn’t have been any fear of an enemy drilling them for info, and if there had been another invisi-Agent in that office, Xander would have seen it. But if there was, well... wouldn’t Peter want to know the circumstances surrounding his minion? Wasn’t he all about knowing everything on everyone? Which should’ve been sign number one that something was up, by the way, back when there’d been something like trust between them. Peter had known too much and too easily, but before Alex could start giving himself crap for missing it – along with every other thing he deserved to get crap for – the phone stopped ringing, a flicker of life flew through the silence, and then a sweet, serenading voice chopped at their ears with a fork. Peter? No. Unless he’d turned into a woman.
“Happy early evening, sir or madam! You’ve reached Cindy of Eric Patten’s office, and how may I be of service this lovely day?”
Every word that came out of her mouth made me want to punch her. I can do that, right? She’s an Agent, so it cancels out being a chick.
The good news was the thought of violence had perked Xander up. As the woman on the other end waited patiently for his response, too merry to scratch at the quiet with a ‘hello?’ or ‘are you there?’, Alex felt more at ease asking questions again. Keeping his voice low, this time to avoid being heard over the phone rather than by Osono, he whispered, “Who did you call?”
Dunno, but it reeks of douchebag.
“We found him?”
Or the mothership. Was it too ridiculous to wonder if the Agency had a hundred like Peter? This woman had the ‘warm’ but not so much the ‘fuzzy’, and the guy had prided himself on mastering both. It was that careful mix that’d wormed his way into Alex’s circle, and even if he tried telling himself it was only because he’d been naive then and now he was smart enough to pick out the differences, Cindy and her friendliness felt too trained, like someone had pinned little hooks on the corners of her mouth instead of letting her be the center of all that was unbridled joy. Xander was right, though. Peter’s mark was on this. If they didn’t find him, they’d find whoever sent him. “Happy early evening to you, too! You’re sweet for saying that!”
“Thank you! I’m so glad to hear you think so!”
“I’m glad to hear you’re glad I think so! Goodness, I’m so glad!” Sarcastic-happy dropped to regular sarcastic. Xander must’ve been making himself sick. “I’m looking for a friend of mine. Peter Halsted?”
“That’s wonderful, sir! There’s nothing like finding an old friend to reunite with, especially when they’re part of the Salcon family!”
Salcon?
Parent company. Medicine and crap. It’s what funds our little shopping sprees in the super-powered market. Didn’t I mention that?
“No.”
Mentioned some of it. “Yeah! Friends are great. How about that name?”
Tickity, tickity, tickity. The woman on the other end typed fast and loud. They could hear her humming to herself while she did it, but once again, it sounded more put on than anything Peter had done. Not that it didn’t feel sincere – part of her was happy, at least – but it definitely landed more in the dress wearing, flower picking, Kool-Aid drinking, cult member department than he was comfortable with. These people got under his skin like they’d been invited.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid your friend’s name isn’t listed in our public database. I’ll have to ask for your identification code to confirm your access for an advanced search!” She said it like it was the most novel idea on the planet and she was a genius for coming up with it. Xander gagged. Alex agreed.
“Well, Cindy, I sure golly-gee would like to hand it over, but since your shitty group decided keeping track of those things was the one part of their security program they would enforce, mine’s been deactivated. So I’ll tell you what: I will give you a identification code, you tell me if it still works, and if it does, just patch me on through so we can skip through fields and have picnics and do everything friends do because we’re friends and friends are great. Sounds good?”
“I’d have to –”
“Do it now? Do it now. 337-04-A2-4. And while you’re doing that, you saintly woman of my dreams, I’m going to be trying not to puke on this frail body that’s recently turned out to be a rental because your nasally voice has pushed me to that edge.”
Cindy took it as an order and plopped into her work with a dainty whistle of a song. She got absorbed in it enough for Alex to almost forget about her, freeing him up to say, “Please don’t call my body a rental.”
What would you call it?
“Besides ‘mine’?” Alex huffed. “How about ‘stolen property’?”
It’s not stealing if you gave it away. You had your chance to fight back, laser eyes.
“Fight against the zillion swarms of your guys versus me for forever? Oh, that’s fair,” Alex said. “Well – to you guys, it is, but the real world calls that ‘one-sided’. Not to mention the piles of guns, tech and endless professional strategy they kept trotting out...”
And yet they still managed to fuck up month after month – just a parade of failing and sucking at life. He could hear Xander shaking his head. Retards. And they were against letting me jump in. Took me a week, and that’s counting travel time.
“... I think I like hearing you brag about that less than you calling my body a rental.”
Nobody likes a sore loser, Alex.
It was a bad sign when words like those didn’t bother him. The stupid jab made him grin. Out of every Agent he could have had jammed inside his head, he got the one who thought this was a game rather than a moral war like the rest of them. Time made him grateful for it, as far as putting up with this went. Hell – Peter made him grateful for it. If Xander didn’t have a massive ego scribbling pointless stuff like ‘rules’ and ‘obeying the hierarchy of power’ out of his Big Book of Words, the Agency would’ve only had to say ‘come back and let’s finish this’ for Alex to have met his end. He guessed it’d worked out the same way for Osono. They were both lucky. Arguably.
“Good news!” Gah! From out of the phone burst Cindy, instantly spouting nonsense. Good news? What the hell definition was she using? “It looks like your friend is still around after all! Except...”
Of course there was an ‘except’. Alex didn’t even have to ask, but he did.
“Except?”
“Except it seems the identification code you gave me has been...absorbed into someone else’s account. It’s as if he was completely replaced!” Duh.
“Just tell me who’s running around as him now,” Xander said. And how to serve his balls when I feed ‘em to him.
“It’s the darndest thing! The absorbed account says the employee is deceased, but the overall account appears active!”
“... Great! Totally not what I asked but... great!”
“The name of the overall account is...” So they’d beaten security again? Should he pretend to be surprised? “Eric Patten! That’s my boss!”
“Xander,” Alex said, “who’s he?”
How the fuck should I know? Some asshole.
“Is it Peter?”
I’ll know when I talk to him. But at least one person had earned a reward. Xander made the effort to stick some enthusiasm in his voice just for her. “Cindy, you’ve been a big help, but I need you to do one last thing for me by putting that guy on the phone.”
“I won’t be more than a minute! I’ll get him on the line as soon as I can!” Yup, they’d beaten security. And she was gone, as completely as before. It was like she was diving into a black hole – no wonder she’d scared him when she’d come back with her ‘good news’. The least they could have done was given them some waiting music to take the edge off or... something.
“More waiting...”
Don’t get comfy, Xander said. I’m the only one who’d’ve asked for that kind of search. He knows it’s me and he’s on his way.
“And you’re not going to go crazy?”
Nope.
Bullshit.
“Osono, brace yourself,” Alex dryly told her. “This guy throws tantrums like you wouldn’t believe.”
... The car felt... lighter, suddenly. It was all the warning he got before a spotlight of joy flashed out of the phone and blinded everybody. Xander was not pleased by it. He specifically clued Alex into this by letting a tremor blaze through his mouth, and it came from ferally crushing his teeth together and grinding like he wanted them to crack. Everyone else found out because he started growling. That was two steps under frothing, by the way, and boy this was shaping up to be a terrific, un-regrettable plan. On top of the cast, Alex was going to need braces – and aspirin, because a flare of pain had sprung out from the front of his mind. This was why having an Agent in his head sucked beyond the obvious.
The first time Xander had taken over to do his crazy, superhuman ass-kicking, Alex – admittedly stoked he was such a closet badass – was screaming for three weeks when it was done. Sprained ankles, torn ligaments, somehow a nerve that’d slipped out of place so a brand-new wave shot out whenever he bent his joints... It was the fun cost of getting to do everything Xander could when Alex had taken very special pride in swimming two laps across a pool and only touching the bottom four times. He was over it now because of the tons of practise, but it was just half the warfare and Alex had refused to do ‘concentration exercises’ to learn the rest because he’d get a migraine that’d knock him out for days by the time it was over. And what did he care? If Xander had been a crazy split-personality, then as long as one of them could do it, the other didn’t have to, and because Xander had run out of patience exactly five seconds after that, they’d easily agreed to forget about it and go do whatever they wanted in their private corner except for ‘extra special’ occasions. Apparently, this counted as special. Like, a lot.
If he wanted to be clever, then his senses were like a really big garage door – the kind warehouses used, the ones with a thick chain to it move up and down, and his was rusted in place a foot off the ground. It wasn’t like he was complaining since the gap gave him enough room to get in and out without any sort of problem and it was all the average person needed to survive, but if he had an old, giant, rusted, warehouse, room-for-an-elephant door, then Xander had a shiny, new and clean ‘I’m an Agent so everything’s impressive’ normal-sized one that swung open like angels had installed it themselves and oiled it with their tears; ten times better but much smaller, which was his fault for trying to steal a body like an asshole, but right now it wasn’t enough for him. The moment he caught a whiff of sound on the other end of the phone, Xander ripped that rusted garage door open and forced every ounce of mental focus the human brain was capable of to turn on. Alex’s mind was flooded by a world that tore at him from every angle; too bright, too loud, too alive... The sound of the Audi’s tires hacking at the road as it drove along screeched in his ears and the air picked up the taste of metal, huge in his lungs and pooling once it carved down his throat. Fuck the door thing – this was officially a point-blank fire hose in his face.
“Whoopsie-doodle!”
Dammit dammit dammit dammit dammit – at those two words from the other side, Alex was squeezed – the whole of his brain was squeezed – into a vice grip that broke the super-world he’d been trampled by and slammed him into new line of total concentration. Xander didn’t bother telling him to shut up because that was what the locked jaw was for, other than the charming bonus of psychopathic rage, but he did knock everything that wasn’t the phone out of Alex’s thoughts and send his eyes digging at each atom the naked eye could pick out.
“Xander, seriously,” Alex hissed through the clenched teeth, keeping full control of anything below his knee. “Just look at it like a normal person!”
Did he have to remind everyone that they didn’t know if it was Peter, or if there was any real relation besides ‘this guy worked for the Agency so he’s automatically added to the list of minds to fry’? What was the point of hyper-analyzing a phone?
Unless...
Was it booby-trapped? Could they do that? Could they booby-trap phones? Because he’d seen –
I hereby declare you in-fucking-capable of shutting your dumb ass up.
Then Xander locked him out of half his head. Alright, well, that was a neat trick Alex had never known about. The rest of the world returned to him, but still too loud and minus anything as eye-catching as the stupid phone. The pounding in his skull was gone too, but it didn’t matter much because his leg smugly took its pain-throne back when part two of this crap kicked in and it reflexively tensed.
“Sorry about that, folks! New hands! Couldn’t grab my phone,” they heard. “What can I do ya for?”
There was none of the tinny, mechanical edge that should’ve been mixed in over the speaker. Instead it was a warm and cresting surge of delight floating gleefully around as if they had someone else in the car, and because no one else was saying anything – Osono had a pass, the other Agent was unconscious and stuffed in the trunk, but Xander was keeping his mouth shut when he asked for this? – Alex was the first to speak up. He hesitated, not sure how he should start this thing, then said as steadily as he was able, “Holy shit.”
Then... nothing. No words, no sounds, no breathing, just silence. It gave him the seconds he needed to think because he knew whose voice that was. He relived an entire week when he heard it, and every other week they’d let the traitor run with them came back when it spoke for the second time.
“Is that a good ‘holy shit’ or a bad ‘holy shit’?”
He wasn’t joking, and no one could say that so innocently.
“The bad one, Peter,” Alex said. “It’s the bad one.”
They could hear – or Xander could, because Alex could only somewhat make it out – the sound of cheeks and the corners of a mouth crinkling in serendipity. So two things he learned: first, the creepy smile was still going strong, and second, Xander was right about Peter wanting to talk. That crinkle was the crinkle of familiarity. There was no disguising who was talking to who, and Peter was apparently all for it because otherwise he would’ve hung up.
“Alex?” Like he was amazed. “Is that really Alex? Get out of town, you maniac! Long time, no see, buddy – how’ve you been?”
“Alive,” he said, pushing around Xander’s seething and his locked jaw. “No thanks to you.”
“Me? Why me?”
He was serious.
“You tried to kill me, dick,” Alex snapped. “You hunted me down and tried to drag me –”
“Is this about the restaurant? Because that wasn’t my fault,” Peter said. “These lackeys keep clearing security and whisking my guys to every random corner. I heard you killed them, by the way! Don’t worry: I forgive you. And I have more.”
Xander was hovering over his shoulder, burning a hole through the back of his mind. Alex shook him away and half-stuffed him back into his corner. The guy wasn’t thrilled about it, but he didn’t complain. Bad sign, but Alex would ignore it.
“I meant everything,” he said. “Yeah, the restaurant, but you trying to crack my head open to pull me out of it –”
“Oh, that. Really? It’s been years, Ally, and it wasn’t anything personal. You’ve gotta learn to let go a little! Xander has not been a good influence,” Peter tut-tutted. “I wasn’t trying to kill you. I was trying to drag you to my secret Agency base so we could put you in a super-vegetative state and run around in our new laser-eyed skin! Completely different! And if anything, I’m the one who should be angry! I happen to remember a very stern conversation I had face-to-face with a hunk of cement.”
“But that’s not personal either, right?”
“Of course not! We’re all friends here! Killing people’s practically how I say ‘hello’ and it darn near makes you family!” Alex heard gagging just then. It was coming from over the phone and it sounded pretty close. Before he could ask, Peter explained. “I’m choking someone to death as we speak! It’s a little counterproductive seeing as how I’m trying to get info out’f him, but what’s an interrogation without a good ‘ha, ha, now you can’t breathe’?” Peter would know better than Alex would. Maybe even better than Xander, and that said something. “Besides.” Alex tensed. The thinnest edge found its way into Peter’s voice. “It’s not like it worked. How mad can I be?”
“I’ll tell Xander to use a bigger rock this time.”
“So he is there! Gosh, he’s quiet,” Peter said. If Alex wasn’t so sure he was using a cellphone, he could’ve sworn he would’ve been curling the cord around his finger. “Still pissed?”
A sharp line of hate spiralled down his spine and exploded through the rest of his limbs. The ends of his fingers twitched and went rigid, then stretched and tore at the air until they found the seat and gouged the cushion. Xander’s answer was ‘yes’. Alex’s answer was ‘no shit’, but he said instead, “What do you think?”
“I guess I did throw him a low blow,” Peter said like he was shrugging. “Normally I’d say ‘my bad’ but he forced my hand. Plus everybody signed consent forms, so why’s he acting like it’s my fault?” Another spiral, scraping his bones as it cut through. “Anyway, since you surely didn’t call to talk about how completely Xander brought everything on himself –” Xander was going to destroy him. “– what’s up?”
Alex thought about it. He probably wasn’t going to have another chance to ask him anything. Peter might’ve been A-OK answering the phone, but Xander was shovelling more self-control than Alex knew he had into this and was he positive the guy was going to make everyone pay for it later. Alex wasn’t going to survive doing this twice. The easy questions seemed so obvious that it felt like he’d be wasting his breath on them, but Peter had a nasty habit of purposefully misinterpreting everything and skipping over important details because ‘I’m pretty sure I implied this earlier. It’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention’. Alex didn’t know how much time he had on anyone’s end. There were so many clocks counting down...
“What are you planning? And –” Alex cut in quickly before the guy started rambling. “– where are you planning it?”
“Right to the heart, huh? Well, I can’t say Mr. Choking-To-Death’s gonna appreciate it, but – sure! I’ll clear a few things up! Basically we’re planning to ambush you midway Xander’s re-transfer so we can get the two of you out of the way. You’re gumming up the works, kids! I mean – hey, I think you’re awesome, but Benny’s past the point where he gives much of a shit about what happens to you two anymore. Not that I’m knocking you for it, ‘cause it worked out really, really well for me, but you probably shouldn’t’ve played so rough with his BFF4L. It’s made him half-‘out to kill you’, half-‘gotta do my job’ and just a smidgeon of ‘KNIFE GOES THROUGH XANDER’S EYE’. Actually, I think that last one’s always been part of the plan. He really doesn’t like you, Xandy. He thinks you’re irresponsible.”
Alex doubted Xander cared.
“What else?”
“Well...” The gagging hadn’t stopped. “Not a whole lot else you don’t know about. Stephanie’s busy with the transfer into Gwen, I’ve got my guys here keeping tabs on Maddy, and I’m mostly here to make sure they arrive at Elmira safely.”
He didn’t know who half these people were.
“‘Mostly’?”
“Mostly,” Peter confirmed. “I’ve got my own project to worry about, but helping them helps me so it’s imperative I make sure you’re dealt with.”
“By ambushing us,” Alex said. “And by telling us we’re going to be ambushed.”
“That’s the plan,” Peter said, trailing off at the end.
“... But that’s not what’s happening?”
“Not if you believe the rumours,” he exclaimed. “The rumours that say ‘by the time you two get here, the Agency’s gonna be the least of your problems’.”
Alex went on the defensive and shot back quickly, “If there’s something bigger in the works, why the hell would we want to come down there at all?”
“‘Cause I miss you and want to throw you a party and ‘cause it’d really help me out if you lent a hand? Or! Or – hear me out! Or because I’m standing a three feet away from a certain stasis cell with a certain ex-employee’s body floating around inside and I am more than willing to press this tiny red button –”
“YOU GET ONE INCH CLOSER AND I’LL RIP YOUR INTESTINES OUT YOUR DICK!”
Thank you, Xander. Thank you so much. Because it wasn’t enough for him to shriek like a monster inside Alex’s head, he had to scream it outside too, for surround sound.
“Xandy’s here! I was worried you –”
“Listen to me, you fuck nugget,” Xander snarled. “I have spent literally every waking moment of my life planning how to kill you. I have every factor considered, every option weighed, and I have obliterated the smallest fucking hope that if Hitler and the Chupacabra raped Stephen Hawking and sacrificed the hate-baby’s soul to Satan, that child still couldn’t come up with a better way to fuck your ghost ass over. For the absolute love of God, I am begging you, do not force me to top what I have planned because you found a way to piss me off even more. I swear to fuck I can’t do it, but I will go batshit insane trying anyway.”
“My goodness,” Peter said. “I didn’t know you cared so much! Well – now I almost think I should flick the switch, just to see –”
“Everything starts with my fist so fucking far down your throat, I pull your balls out from the inside!”
“Huh. That just doesn’t seem possible. Even less than the dick-threading thing. But anyway, you get my point: you have ample motivation to come down here,” Peter explained. “Xander wants his body back and I’m willing to bet he’ll be the teeniest bit more interested in what we’re trying to do if that route gets permanently cut off. It’s in everyone’s best interest for you to be in Charlton, Ally! See? Help me help you! And everyone else! Yaaaaaay – we’re all winners!”
“So you’re after us again,” Alex said.
“Again? I was never after you to begin with! You and Xander were a stepping stone towards me being even greater than I was and I needed to test out a few new powers. No offence, but as fun as brain-popping sounds, it’s not my cup of tea. I need bright and flashy and your seizures are too ‘not that’. Although...” Peter’s voice grew warmer. “I hear you’re packin’ a new kind of punch. Found a pair of sunglasses with holes through ‘em, and since I can’t quite recall the memo saying we have pipes added to our standard-issue arsenal, I’m thinkin’ it’s a new trick pulled out your sleeve. Plus, I have it on video. I’m getting it shown to Benny – he thinks it doesn’t exist.”
“I’ll give everyone a firsthand demonstration.” ... Of whatever he was talking about. Alex had been in la-la land during the Elmira fight, but Gwen had seen it and she’d called it impressive, too. “Anything else I should know?”
“Is there ever?”
“Then I’m hanging up,” Alex said.
“Wait! I lied! One more thing! When you were running around with Nathan, did he sound Australian to you?”
It was such a stupid question, Alex wasn’t sure he should answer it.
“Why would that matter?”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Peter said. “The little bastard...! Alright, well – see you in a few hours! And if you wouldn’t mind disposing of the Agent you captured when you’re done with her, I’d be much obliged. I can’t stand letting useless staff live. Cakes and sprinkles!”
And – click. That was the end of that.
Alex’s jaw relaxed as Xander let go of it. His arms were back under his power, too. His neck still felt stiff and his fingers hadn’t stopped clawing at his seat, but an immense weight fell off him as his senses dialled down to normal. He was glad that was over. Xander took it pretty well, considering the occasional flare of frenzied loathing Alex kept having to push away. Disturbingly well, actually...
“You – uh... okay?”
Sen-fucking-sational.
That was better than what Alex expected.
“We didn’t ask him how he was still alive.”
He waited for the accusing ‘no, you didn’t ask him’, but was relieved to get a bitter ‘That’s the only thing he would lie about,’ instead. He would’ve told us if he wanted us to know. And it doesn’t matter.
“It might if you shoot him and he doesn’t die again.”
It doesn’t matter right now. He’s not gonna stick around when we get there. If he is, then he’s not gonna give a shit what we do. He won’t fight.
His eyes flicked over to the phone. Begrudgingly deciding against tossing the thing out the window, he reached for it and stuck it in the glove department. After that, he looked at Osono.
“Out loud, please. She can’t hear.”
Xander mumbled something Alex couldn’t make out, but he gave in.
“Did any of that shit he said sound like he was lying?”
Trick question, possibly rhetorical, but Alex said, “No.”
“No. Why? ‘Cause he’s an arrogant prick who holds himself ‘above’ that. If he says he’s getting ready for something bigger than us storming the place, we should be getting ready, too.”
“He said that was a rumour,” Alex pointed out.
“Yeah, and he also said he always fucking listens to those. Pay attention, retard.”
Geez, sorry. He couldn't remember everything.
“Then what are we supposed to do?”
“Everything we were in the first place,” Xander snapped, like somehow Alex was making a mistake for asking these kinds of questions. “The problem isn’t how we’re gonna put me back in my body, it’s why. As in, ‘why the fuck is he so eager to get me back in there’? He knows I’m just gonna rip the skin off his face when I get up. There’s literally no benefit in bringing me back, unless there’s every benefit in bringing me back.”
“Oh great! So now not only are we heading for a trap, it’s one designed to get their Xander-Weapon!”
Maybe. Don’t worry about it.
“‘Don’t worry about it’?” Now it was Alex hanging onto the seat. He sat up straighter, thoroughly annoyed. “I’m not going to hand you over if they’re just going to turn around and sic you on us!” It’d suck double for him, seeing as how Xander was the one who took Alex down in the first place. “But they’d have to have some kind of brain-washing machine to do it though, right?”
“Not necessarily.”
Alex’s eyes popped open.
“... They... wouldn’t necessarily need one because...?”
“If you ask me whether I’m rejoining them one more time, I’m gonna open this door and jump into traffic.”
“... But that means you won’t, right?” Xander unlocked the door. “I’m asking so I know for sure!”
“You won’t know for sure because I don’t. I told you the option isn’t off the table and that hasn’t changed. It’s why I said if you have to kill me, don’t wait ‘cause I won’t,” he spat. “Do I have any specific plans to skip over to the recruitment office? Fucking – of course not, but Peter’s gunning for me to pull this off and I don’t know what he’s waiting in the background with.” Xander took that time to seethe for half a minute before getting a grip and talking. “What I meant is that if he’s preparing for more than the shitstorm we’re throwing at his ass, I might wake up in the middle of an even bigger attack, which means he’s expecting me to just kill everything and either hoping I die mid-slaughter or getting ready to shoot me in the face when I’m done. I don’t have to be on their side to help them, dick cheese, even if that’s what Peter’d prefer. But anyway, don’t worry about it.”
He’d been following along until those last four words.
“It’s hard to take you at your word after you finish detailing –”
Do you want me around forever? Because I promise you, by the end of this week, only one person is going to be in here, he roared. “We’re going to Charlton, we’re getting my body back, you two can do whatever the fuck you want after – with or without me – but we literally cannot move forward until we put an end to this shit! Everyone get that, or is someone else gonna run around on a broken foot?”
That was a brilliant thing to say next to fire-woman.
“Calm down –”
“Choke on a dick, Alex,” Xander fired in his face. Then he sealed himself away in his corner and raged, barely keeping to himself in there and slamming against Alex’s mind.
So Xander was sparing them the worst of it, but it was happening with all the grace of a supernova. He was really leaving a great impression.
“Don’t – uh...” Time for damage control, if he could manage it. “Don’t get the wrong idea. He’s not... that bad.” That bad. “He’s on our side, at least. He’s the reason I’ve made it this far and you two’ve been getting along great.” Which was true. Practically every time his mouth had opened and she hadn’t looked like she wanted to slap him for it, it’d been because Xander said something, not Alex. That included when he lied through his teeth. “Let’s – just... be a little more ready for them to throw something at us... But on the bright side, it doesn’t look like Peter knows you’re coming.”
Or Peter didn’t care. Or it didn’t matter in the long-run.
Shit.
Last edited by Tartra on Sun Apr 22, 2012 10:55 am; edited 5 times in total (Reason for editing : Clean up)
Tartra- Apparition
- Join date : 2010-07-10
Posts : 581
Age : 33
Location : Ottawa, Canada -
Part 2
by Tartra Mon May 02, 2011 3:40 am
* * *
He had to say something. There had been three specific breaks between her words that he could’ve used to say something – anything – and instead he’d...
“I’m not ready for this.”
Any of it. People? Social interactions? He had a life, he had friends outside of work, and he knew if he managed to hit the rank he’d been dreaming of since he’d joined, he’d have to manage a sea of subordinates and join the office politics of everybody else. But that was it. In his mind, he’d cooked up a world of bossing other Agents around, chatting offhandedly with others at his level about how useless underlings were and how stuck-up everyone above him was, choosing what work he wanted to take on and advancing it at whatever pace he felt comfortable with. The world of A-4s, A-3s, A-2s and – he should’ve been more excited about this – A-1s had always been so magical to him, and if he was honest with himself, getting a firsthand feel of how they interacted made it so much more inspiring. He could be one of them someday, he’d thought. Maybe he couldn’t do what she or Frenchie or even the troll could, but what he could offer was worth the Agency’s investment. The sick swallow of regret in his throat when he’d been pushed down to A-6 hadn’t crushed his dream, only dragged it farther away, and he’d slowly returned to the understanding that he could still do this if he tried. He could. But he couldn’t.
Getting a team meant leaving hers. It wasn’t as if he’d expected to work with her forever, but the Agency evaluated on a milestone basis. Once his lead was transferred into Stewart, they’d size him up and see if he was worth moving up the ranks. Eric’s demotion... Jason could appeal to him. Eric seemed willing enough to listen, and if he pointed out that he’d fixed the mistake he’d made by making damn sure his lead completed her mission, what force of nature would stop the A-1 from re-promoting him on the spot? But that was the best-case scenario. If Jason didn’t merit in the Agency’s eyes by then, he’d have to find a new milestone to hit to have them reconsider. He didn’t know when that was coming. Not everybody got a second chance. All in all, he was calling this his one shot at making it and it was happening too soon. He wasn’t ready to go.
“... Dude?”
Jason’s head popped up. It’d lowered at some point but – what did Gary want? He was jerking his head at Stephanie – oh. Oh!
“I don’t mean this,” Jason told her quickly.
No. He didn’t mean this.
She said he could call her ‘Stephanie’, but that was the core of the problem. The minute he stepped away from his dream of everyone in this business serving some unseen master as nothing more than robots, they became people. Quinn, idiot that he was, had feelings and a list of reasons for why he acted the way he did. Madeline had hours upon hours of scrambling to claim the status she’d achieved. Benoit was suddenly humanized, and it destroyed every ounce of silent loathing Jason had for him after their targets teamed up and ran away together. And Eric! Jason didn’t know what to think about him. If Benoit was somehow everything the Agency expected, and there were remarkable similarities between him and Jason’s lead, then Eric was everything the Agency wanted to be: ambitious, in control, planning something no one wanted to or could question... It wasn’t what he wanted to think, mostly because it meant Eric had become the unseen master Jason feared – as if she was making it easy on him, the way she actually called the A-1 that – and that his lead had no choice to follow. Jason couldn’t let her. On any other mission, she would have only had to blink and have it be enough for him to leave her. On any other day, Eric’s order of ‘keep it brief and then get back to waiting for Alexander’ would have taken total precedence over anything else. Nobody had to think hard to realize this was not those times.
“... Dude!”
Shut up, Gary. This was about her.
She’d taken his glove away. She’d given it back, but only after she’d brought his hand to her face. He’d felt her. His fingers had drawn lines across her, as terrified as they were to move under her hold in case they broke whatever excuse that let them get away with this. The warmth of her skin had caught him off-guard, striking in harmony what he’d hoped to taste and precisely what he hadn’t wanted to. Then her touch had turned cold. She might have spared Jason from having to feel her fall fully to something dead, but it was enough for him to want to pretend it hadn’t happened. If there was anything he was good at besides fucking up royally, it was ignoring what wasn’t strictly professional.
Except now he knew he sucked at that, too. She proved it. He could scream for years that it wasn’t right, but she said she wanted him to own her. He – just... he hadn’t earned that right.
He would. If that’s what she wanted.
“I’m coming back,” Jason decided. “I’m coming with you.”
“Dude –”
“What, Gary?”
“Jason – bro –” Gary looked nervously between them. “Uh... Eric?”
Eric had said he was going to stay. Stephanie had said he was going to stay. Everyone was saying he had to stay, but fuck that, he wasn’t, he was going with her. She needed him, and he’d promised her he was going to be by her side, and for maybe once he could clue into the fact that whenever he tried doing something for himself, it backfired. She needed him. He was not going to abandon her.
“I know. I’ll talk to him.” The A-1 said he supported her decision to have Jason stay behind, but he was even more excited to have the Stewart transfer wrapped up. Having Jason go would work out for that and he could do what he was sure was in his power to keep her from falling apart. Those drugs... Why? After he’d warned her... They’d wear off and she’d kill herself trying to up the dose. The least he could do was watch over her for that. “He’ll understand.” Eric was obligated to understand.
Gary skip-hopped-waddled to Jason and purposely turned them so she couldn’t read their lips. Rushing it, and tripping over his words a little, the fat man whispered, “Bro. Jason. I’m proud of you and everything, but are you sure this is smart? Aren’t you – like... some main part of this plan now?”
“Benoit’s plan? He should’ve thought about that,” Jason said, exasperated. “Dead Jean or no dead Jean, Alexander is his problem, not mine.”
“Yeah, but...” Gary trailed off. He started thinking. The effort he was putting in was impressive, and with the way that puppy-eyed smile picked up on his face, Jason realized it’d paid off. “You and her...? Don’t do this unless you know it’s worth it. ... Is it?”
“No idea,” he said. “But it’s not like I can screw up any worse by trying.”
The way Gary’s face lit up, it was like Jason had pulled out a damn wedding ring.
“Okay! Okay – uh...” Gary was trying to be aloof. He was not doing a good job. “I guess... Agent March and I will – uh...” He shrugged, as if he was innocent of thinking about... whatever was going through his mind right now. “We’ll be waiting for you. At the door. Waiting. For you.”
Subtle. Like a lightning bolt through a library.
He gave her a final look before he walked off. It didn’t sit right inside him. Her eyes were blank and didn’t feel like they were looking at anything, and Gary’s giddiness made her more of a statue than Jason thought possible. They were back at the beginning. This was what she had been like when they first met, but he couldn’t enjoy it. There was no strength, because it was desperation. He felt lost having to walk away from her at all, but Jason couldn’t send anyone else with this message. The more the thought turned in his mind, the more realized this would be less of a favour and more of a trade, and Eric had already explained the bargain.
“If you can still hear me, don’t leave until I get back.”
Nothing. No response. If there’d been a reaction from her, it was too fast for Jason to have seen. He’d depended on his goggles for that information. He could feel his strength leave as he stood there. He had to get this over with before he dropped again. He could pass out on the plane. With that decided, and with a quick burst of energy to his knees to keep them steady, Jason squared his shoulders, turned, and set off to find Eric. Jason knew precisely where he’d be.
He was proud of himself. His first steps were confident and steady, and he made it down two hallways without anything more than a quiver down his arms and a grating determination twisting in his gut. That ended soon enough. The closer he got to the stasis room, the darker the corridors grew. There were less lights leading towards it now, as if it was a quiet warning to anyone who wasn’t supposed to be there. The effect was... tangible. Jason’s strides were shorter and their steady rhythm was going off-beat. By the time he turned the last corner, the end of it gleaming the hollow red of the tanks, more fittingly dressed like the mouth of Hell than he would have asked for, the withdrawal came up on him. The suit was too tight and it scraped on his skin. His collar pulled around his neck cut a mark against his throat. The soft padding of his boots snapped to an intolerable roar, and when he buckled, his left leg collapsing under his weight, the sound of him grabbing the wall to catch himself ripped through his ears and made him admit what was happening: he, despite every cell in his body screaming to reconsider, was giving his suit back to the Agency. That was what they wanted, and if he was going with her, it was the only chip he had. His eyes stung and just then did he notice the cold-sweat on his face. Some part of him was trying to keep him from doing this and it would blind him if it had to. No dice, because he wasn’t stopping. That was a shame, because neither was the attack.
Eric’s voice floated down the corridor. Jason didn’t care who the man was talking to, except that it was to someone he could interrupt because he had to. Walking was painful as he pressed on. He had to drag himself along that wall to keep going and he knew waiting at the door for the A-1 to finish up was not an option. This was worse than it’d been when he was demoted, worse than when he was on the plane, worse than when he was on the car and it was building in chest because who the fuck did he think he was choosing to split with his suit before its time? It was a lovers’ quarrel at its finest and Jason would never forget their final moments. How much more rending would this have been if he’d taken the drugs he’d been offered?
“... I’d be much obliged. I can’t stand letting useless staff live. Cakes and sprinkles!” Then a plastic clack. Eric had been on the phone. Did that mean he was free to talk? “Okay, Rudy! Back to you!” Yes, he was free to talk.
“Eric,” he called, sounding hoarser than he’d planned. “We need to talk.”
This was a cozy portrait of insanity. Even through his punishing haze, Jason still was thrown off by it. Eric was lazily putting his phone in his pocket with one hand. The other, ending the mystery of the feeble gagging that’d danced about as a sick theme song to his journey, had Rudy dangling from it two feet off the ground. The goblin’s neck had been completely engulfed by it, and Jean’s hand had been big enough to swallow up Quin’s chin, jaw and collarbone, too.
“Jason,” Eric pleasantly greeted. “Sure, sure – come on in! Don’t mind Rudy, he can wait! He’s tough, he’s patient! What’s on your mind?”
“Stephanie.” He said it as clearly as he could. Jason pulled himself to his feet and told them to shut up so he could stand. In another moment, he gathered enough of his focus to walk into the room, stopping six feet away from the A-1 and twitchy dwarf choking in his fingers. “It’s my case or my suit? That was what you said?” Eric blinked at him. “I’m picking the case. You can have this back.” And to prove it, Jason clumsily yanked the goggles off his neck and held them out. He could almost hear their scream as they passed over his head. “I’m going with her to Elmira. Now. Right now. I even told her to wait.”
“So that ‘make it fast, just say bye and then get back here’ thing...?”
“She doesn’t want to leave me,” he said. “Or...” He was being too presumptuous. “She isn’t trying to get away. And she needs someone there with her –”
“Gary?”
“Gary is one of the nicest people I know, but he’s not going to be enough to help her,” Jason explained. “Neither are the drugs, neither is having Stewart around... You need to let me go so I can be there for her, or she’s not going to last long enough to make the transfer. She could die before she makes it off the plane.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Eric said. “She’s pretty tough.”
Considering he’d used ‘tough’ on Quin, Jason wasn’t putting a ton of faith into that word.
“It’s too risky. We’re at the last stretch of this case and this is where we can’t afford to let anything slip up,” he answered. “If you’re going along with Benoit because you understand the threat Alexander poses, there’s nothing in the way of you seeing how dangerous this is on top of that.”
“I do recognize the threat Alex is. That’s why I’m on board with you staying here to counter it.”
“But it’s not my case! It’s not my job –”
“It is if Stephie says it is,” Eric cut in, “and I thought she was pretty clear on that, Jay-jay.”
“She was clear on what she wanted me to do but not why.” Eric let out a soothed breath. That should have shut Jason up, but it didn’t. He started talking faster instead, and louder. “Benoit is the one who’s supposed to have this sorted out. He called ahead to reserve this place and I can’t honestly believe that someone who’s worked on this for as long as he has – and who has a new motivation to catch the bastard after Alexander killed his friend – would utterly fail to have some sort of a back-up plan in place. I’ll ask him if I have to! I’m sure he’s just forgotten to mention it to you or just assumed you’d know, but what that means is –”
“Jason.”
“– if you’d let me ask –”
“Jason?”
“Eric, I’m serious. This isn’t a question anymore. You laid out your terms, I’m giving in, so handing over my suit means I’ve bought my permission. Now – just –” Jason gestured to the goggles. “Take them and I’ll go. I’ll find something else to wear.”
And there was silence. That was happening a lot to everyone involved in this. He hated it. Silence meant time to fully recognize what he was saying and who he saying it to, and the last thing he could stand right now was the full weight of Eric’s rank sinking in. The time was over sooner than Jason expected, however. Equally as however, the A-1 didn’t seem as bubbly as he had a moment before.
“Take a break, Rooty-roo,” the man said, unceremoniously opening his hand and letting the newest A-5 drop like a boulder. Idly picking at the stem of his glasses, Eric walked over, and although Jason knew he couldn’t stand up for much longer, he responded by straightening his back and trying to look as presentable as he could. “You two are something, huh?”
“I’m just trying to do what I said I would. And I said I’d be there for her.”
“That’s what she wants? You know that for sure?”
No. Actually, everything she’d said, if he took it at its face value, said that although she didn’t enjoy giving the order, she’d done it for a reason. Her exact words pinpointed why he had to stay, and – again, that damn silence – as whatever she’d put into her system cleared her voice to make her message clear, he couldn’t deny he was violating the most direct of direct orders from his boss and the most direct of indirect orders from her boss. Her ‘master’. Fuck, he was stupid...
“Yes,” Jason insisted. “I know that for sure.”
This meant he was doing it for himself. How long did he have to wait for this to backfire, too?
“Well...” Eric’s face... He looked perkier. Happier? Was he... Impossible. Was he going along with this? “Ah – who am I to say ‘no’? Are you really gonna listen anyway?”
“No, sir,” Jason honestly replied. “But I’m doing it with the utmost respect and assurance that what this –”
“Jason, it’s okay. I get it,” Eric said, smacking the back of Jason’s neck. Too hard. The sting of it pinched him. But if that was the only other price he had to pay, why the hell was he complaining? Smack away! Eric was... He was actually alright with this! “Just promise me something?”
“Yes?”
“Please, please, please, for the love of God, don’t get caught doing anything.” Eric wagged a finger in Jason’s face. “And don’t ever mention anything about it to me. And don’t ever do anything around me. And don’t ever try to get me to cover for you, ‘cause it’s bad enough I’m turning a blind eye to this at all! Are we clear?”
“Yes,” Jason said. His blood was pumping. He was exhilarated! “Yes, we’re clear, we’re perfectly clear!”
“Crystal?”
“Yes! Of course! You won’t know –”
“Fantastic,” Eric said. Another smack. Fortunately, it was softer. “Now make with the changing, give me the suit, and you two can do all the stuff that I am never, ever, ever gonna know about.”
Holy shit. Holy shit! Everything else was still real – maybe he was making a mistake by going, maybe his lead didn’t really want him there, maybe he was being selfish by trying to get everything to bend around him – but... he had permission from the A-1 to...! He could...! He was dizzy from all this, and damn near light-headed!
“Thank you,” Jason said, meaning it more than he knew.
“What was that?”
“I said ‘thank you’,” he tried again. Why was his mouth so heavy?
“Jason?” Eric sounded far away. “You okay?”
“I’m...” The dizziness was getting worse. “Yes, I’m... I’m fine...”
“This isn’t because of the suit, is it? I don’t actually expect you to strip this second.” Eric... sounded... foggy... Like he wasn’t... real... “Just bring it to Elmira and take it off there. What the heck am I gonna do with it?”
Jason heard a thud. He couldn’t be sure exactly, but it sounded like someone had collapsed. But... he couldn’t... think enough...
“... Wha...”
“... Okay, you take a nap. I’m gonna back to chattin’ with Rudy.”
A nap. Yeah. A nap... and then he’d... plane...
* * *
He could hear her pacing in that room. At any moment, she’d charge out and come after him again. As it stood, while a desk was far from ideal protection, it would buy him the seconds he needed to get through that window. He might have to rip a board off it and enjoy a one-storey fall, but there were no bars behind or before the glass and that meant if she tried to get in front of the door – having learned her locks were pitiful attempts to keep him in here – then the window would have to be his alternative way out. He would have said the ceiling – up the bookcase, through the panels – but he had less of an idea of what awaited him there. She seemed like the type to expect the lightly-structured tiles to appeal to him and, as a result, to have secured the hell out of it. More likely than not, her walls separated this room from the rest of the building altogether. He would be trapped, forever, watching her stalk around the floor below in a patient bid to wait him out, and he would spend the rest of his life up there.
So long as she refrained from bothering him this instant, he was fine where he was for now. Having her in there, Eric elsewhere, and the woman and her two pets somewhere else had brought a comforting tide of peace he thought was lost in this mess. He had no intention of questioning it; he needed this, and he enjoyed it on its own. What did concern him was difference between how he was using – smoking, relaxing, not being molested – and how he should have been.
Jean was dead. Putting aside everything else, it raised questions regarding his next steps. What to do about Alexander... Anything really, he supposed. The easy answer was ‘his job’ and he was leaning towards it. Five years of dicking around on this... He should have wanted it to end, if only to clear suspicion that he was not the one to handle this. He admitted his failure for the one year he had put an honest effort in, but he chose not to blame himself. It had still been a contest because Alexander-the-host had not been fully attained and the other contenders had liked the guest’s idea of sabotage and went mad with it. Thankfully that changed when Alexander-the-guest bashed in the head of Eric’s then-latest trophy and Benoit was given an actual team and – more appreciatively – exclusive rights on the matter, but considering it had also been what had set them into motion and their oh-so-great need to let that animal of a deserter run loose and cause his endless chaos had yet to fade, specifically because Eric was still alive and planning whatever they thought he was planning, perhaps Benoit should let it go for another month or so. For Jean’s sake, out of respect for his memory. No more after that. Loyalty to Jean and loyalty to his idiot friends were two entirely distinct ideas. One month, maybe less, likely less, and then he was doing his damn job again. Fuck this ‘please ignore us’ bullshit, as if Benoit was on their side.
‘Anti-Agents’. What a stupid name. He was glad Charlotte was dead, that traitor.
“KITTY!”
Shit. She was back. If she even glanced at that rope, he was gone.
“Yes, Miss Bergmann?”
“I AM GOING TO ELMIRA.”
God only knew what Frenchman was over there to terrorize.
“I’d help you pack, but you’d rape me as soon I pick something up.”
He reclined in her chair instead. She seemed displeased with his answer, probably because he has guessed her plan, and she stomped her foot as though that was going to change his mind.
“YOU ARE COMING.”
“I am not.”
She stomped her foot again. Benoit was unmoved and went back to his cigarette. He could light a new one off the look she gave him.
“I NEED YOU TO TELL ME WHO ELSE HE HAS IN MY BUILDING,” she said. “I WANT TO KNOW IF HE PUTS THEM ON THE AIRPLANE.”
“He will, most likely. Just assume the worst and you won’t need me.”
Now go away. He was still sore from ‘playtime’ and if she stayed here any longer, she’d be at it again.
“YOU ARE COMING!”
He regretted saying anything at all. Madeline was now paranoid, which she had demonstrated through her spy-system but was proving once more by doing this. Apparently Patten had been on the phone with Alexander – who had called who, why had they called, and what did this mean for what anyone had planned? – and mentioned ‘his guys’ that he had ‘keeping tabs’ on her. When pressed to explain, Benoit had politely informed her of what he’d thought she’d already knew: at least thirty of Eric’s people, all wearing suits and using them to stay out of sight, were scattered around her building. Two specifically were outside the medical bay, keeping watch over Gwendolyn Stewart’s door as the one legitimate use for any of them. Benoit didn’t know how long they had been there – she’d asked – or why they were there – she’d asked – or how Eric had gotten them inside her building in the first place – she’d asked that too, but he wasn’t psychic, obviously – but he was surprised she was only finding out now. There were so many of them and they’d popped up on his lenses like fireworks when he’d scanned her security screens. He’d even nodded to a few of them when he’d first entered, pleased they weren’t stupid enough to fight him as well, and she should have at least remembered Patten’s personal bodyguard would have been there. The thought had never crossed her mind. It wasn’t leaving it now.
“I have work to do here,” Benoit said. “It's the reason I came to Charlton. I am not about to leave before I’m finished.”
“AND WHAT DO YOU EXPECT TO DO? TRANSFER HERE? ALEXANDER IS AFTER GWENDOLYN. GWENDOLYN IS GOING TO ELMIRA. LET THE REVERSE TRANSFER COMPLETE AND THEN PICK OFF THE WEAKER ONE WHEN HE ARRIVES.”
Ha, ha. No.
“I’ll pass.”
“KITTY!” Stop calling him that! “I AM ORDERING YOU –”
“Eric told me to stay.”
The beauty of that was Benoit could not be blamed, even around the order. He could break this chair across her head and she would love him all the same if he told her Eric had ordered it. Thank you, blind hatred. If he had known it would have been that easy from the start, he could have avoided so much more.
“YOU WILL NOT LEAVE THIS ROOM.” She was using her business voice. She must have meant it. Benoit puffed away politely. “YOU HAVE NO REASON TO LEAVE THIS ROOM. THE CAMERAS WILL LET YOU SEE WHAT YOU NEED TO SEE.”
Did she want him to guard this place? He could nearly guarantee that Eric’s staff had been in here already. Not now, but some time before.
“Just make sure your technicians are in place,” he said. “As I’ve mentioned, Alexander cannot manage the transfer alone.”
“I HAVE TOLD THEM TO ACT HELPLESS WHEN HE ARRIVES. THEY WILL BE IN PLACE,” she assured him. “HE WILL THINK HE HAS CAUGHT THEM HIMSELF.”
“Good to hear.” He waved. “Enjoy your flight.”
“YOU INSIST YOU WILL NOT JOIN ME?”
She was frowning at him. This one differed from the rest. It seemed... concerned about something. He would have to ask her.
“Is there any particular reason why I should want to?”
“SEX.”
Of course.
“Enjoy your flight, Miss Bergmann.”
Finally, she understood. And she had seemingly already packed. She had a smooth, black bag across her shoulder that he only saw when she turned to leave.
“LOCK THE DOOR. DO NOT LEAVE THIS ROOM.”
“Okay.”
She wasn’t gone.
“DO NOT LEAVE THIS ROOM.”
“Okay.”
“KITTY.”
And this was the second trick he had learned: he put a hand over his heart and dearly told her, “Bien sûr, ma vache.”
She would have jumped him if she hadn’t been honest about leaving. He’d only said it because it threw her off the point she wouldn’t take an answer for.
“I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID.” And she loved it anyway. “WHEN I RETURN, I WILL BRING A STRONGER CHAIN.” ... Implying that was a gift of some kind. “AND YOU WILL BEHAVE.”
“I imagine that’d take the fun out of it for you,” he said from behind the arm he’d leaned on her desk. “Go. You’ll miss your flight, and then you’ll be stuck here with Eric.”
That did it. Finally, she left. She shut the door heavily and he lunged from his seat to lock it behind her. For the hell of it, he went to her security room – locking that door and claiming that chair, too – and watched her go down the halls. This was certainly a thorough set-up. There was no corner of her building untouched and the screens on both his right and left enjoyed a regular cycle of the other rooms. He turned his focus from the central screen, however. The less he had to look at Patten pretending to be Jean, the more sane he would be by the end of it. Besides, Madeline had gone directly to March. She had better have earplugs if they were going to be on a plane together.
“YOU,” Madeline screeched the instant she was in earshot. That left her roughly at the other end of the hall. “WE ARE GOING TO ELMIRA. GET YOUR GIRL.” And then walk-walk-walk without another word or interest in a protest, which the fat one at March’s side had tried blubbering out.
Benoit had to admit that it was entertaining when it wasn’t directed at him, but now that she was gone, the headache was showing up. Where was the alcohol in this place? She was German – that had to schnapps in one desk or another. Which he found within seconds. Thank God for practise. He could down this, get drunk and sober up just in time for Alexander to be dealt with. Or he could drink through that, too. After all, he ‘wasn’t leaving this room’.
Last edited by Tartra on Sun Apr 22, 2012 11:06 am; 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 Fri May 06, 2011 9:46 pm
Xander? Sounded like the name of an alien from one of Rudy's Sci-fi shows. If that's what he'd answer to... Not that she really planned on addressing the Agent specifically, but it did make her a bit more comfortable giving him a name. But only a little bit.
Osono let out a testy breath when Alex started talking and responding to thin air, obviously having a conversation that she was hearing only part of. But she kept silent and waited with the patience of a boiling tea kettle, expecting to be included again at some point, while also paying attention and trying to gather as much as she could from Alex's words alone. Then he completely surprised her when he hit call and set the phone on the dashboard, the sound of a ringing chirping emitted from it's speakers. He'd...changed it so that she could hear what the other guy was saying when/if he finally answered. Caught off guard, she slowly released the burning heat she'd started to collect in the interior of the car, and relaxed just a few notches. It was enough of a gesture that she regained some of her original trust and she gave Alex a small, grateful look.
She listened quietly as he explained a bit more of what he knew about these people and the effect of his words got her pumped up, ready for a fight, again. His history with this Peter guy reminded her of Rudy - not that the situations were anything alike - and she wondered why that little geek hadn't tried something like that in the very beginning. There had been a time when she'd trusted and liked him and probably would have gone with him to an Agency base if he'd convinced her it was another one of his stupid conventions.
And once again, she was made aware of the "other" guy, when he vehemently interjected at the end, followed by Alex's voice trying to calm him down. She forgave herself for not noticing the differences earlier - that is...if 'Xander' had talked very much at all since she'd met him; she wasn't sure - because it DID sound like Alex was suddenly, violently pissed off. The transition between them was so smooth, she didn't realize the other one had spoken until Alex addressed him as if he had.
Osono involuntarily tightened her grip on the steering wheel and clenched her teeth when a woman's voice suddenly came out of the phone, talking like one of those people who were just a little too excited that they'd "found Jesus". After a minor bit of muttering - which she didn't get defensive about, for once - suddenly Alex sounded like he was trying to imitate Cindy in cheerful greeting. But there was something different enough about his tone, that she suspected Xander had taken the reigns again. It was tricky and most noticeable when the two talked to each other, but the change was there and she was starting to get the hang of identifying who was saying what.
Even as irritating as that phony, Cindy, was, Ozzie broke a small smirk and shook her head in amusement when Xander responded with a mocking gushiness, like a less than subtle ice pick stabbed into the cheerful woman's eye. And despite this entertaining back and forth continuing for a few rounds, the smirk eventually disappeared off her face when she remembered how serious things were. It wasn't a joke. Cindy had a typical receptionist flair of course - and was insufferably dim as well - but these people had databases and needed access codes to run computer searches. Not that this was news to Osono - it was why there was an Agent in the trunk - but she'd momentarily forgotten, when Cindy joined the conversation, that they were going to try to break into one of these places. And these people were a lot more organized and prepared than they were.
Xander lost his "fun" image when he was able to promptly provide a code and listed off numbers and letters in a level stream. Even when immediately after, he made another sarcastic gibe at the sickeningly happy woman, it didn't restore Osono's good humor. She was remembering how he'd handled that female Agent, like he was her boss or something, knowing things and getting her to obey him with barely any fight. And he'd known she'd have a phone on her and where he'd needed to look... There'd been a few moments there, where she would have been willing to accept him as being on their side, but his being an Agent was becoming a less and less comfortable prospect, by the minute.
During all of this, Ozzie had kept her eyes mainly on the road, of course, but when Alex started talking to himself again, she gave him a quick look, surreptitiously watching him. This. This is what those "hidden behind his hand" and "against his shoulder" conversations looked like when they were had out in the open. It was a little unsettling in that, 'Dude, there's no one there' way, but at the same time she found herself pitying him. Not just for the sort of pathetic 'specialness' that he exuded while doing it, and not just for the fact that he actually shared a body with someone he didn't like and didn't trust. But also because of what that had probably done to his life. Almost the entire time she'd been with him, Alex had a habit of muttering to himself and had tried to conceal this fact in different semi-casual - yet really obvious - ways. It was hard to imagine that it was easy for him to make friends. And from what he was saying, it sounded like Agents were constantly on his tail as well and that meant moving around from place to place. She definitely knew what that kind of life was like.
The sudden smile on his face made her think that possibly she was wrong to feel sorry for him, just like he would be if he felt that way towards her. He wasn't weak and he'd found a way to cope with things.
Cindy returned, filling the car with her upbeat voice again and said a bunch of things that Osono didn't quite understand. She couldn't really tell if Xander understood what she was talking about either. What was an 'absorbed account'? Was that when they put an Agent in someone's head? Then why was the 'overall' account, her boss, an Agent? Apparently, Xander thought it might be the same guy they were looking to talk to, so Cindy was thankfully gone again - hopefully, for good - when he ordered her to connect him to her boss.
It was sorta funny when Alex asked himself if he was 'going to go crazy' but she tensed just the tiniest bit when he warned her about Xander's tantrums. She didn't know quite what to expect, but if the anger he'd already displayed in just considering the possibility of Peter still being alive was any clue, then she imagined things would be worse if/when he actually ended up talking to the guy.
The first sign of life from the other end of the phone was...definitely not what she expected at all. Well...first of all, who the hell even says 'Whoopsie-doodle'? Except possibly 3 year-olds who liked making up words and bastardizing others in their own baby language. Osono's attention was drawn momentarily back to Alex again as he murmured something through clenched teeth - was he hurt? Was Xander doing something? - but then the sunshiny voice was coming back through the phone, prattling about something that didn't make sense to her. New hands...?
Everything about this rubbed her the wrong way. Not the phone call itself, or Alex talking to him and identifying him as 'Peter'. But the guy himself made her very uncomfortable in a way that she couldn't really define the root of. And she didn't want to. His voice made her feel threatened and uneasy and really angry, like a flutter in her gut and a random desire to send her fist through a glass window - despite everything about it being boisterously friendly and even possessing a sense of innocence. Wasn't that enough of a reason, to simply not like whoever he was?
It made her feel better to keep her eyes off the phone and on the road, but even as she paid attention to the growing, evening traffic, everything inside her was focused on the voice coming from the speaker. She bristled when he mentioned the 'restaurant', thinking that he was somehow involved in the attack on her and the capture of Gwen, but he sorta placed the blame back on Rudy again when he mentioned that lackeys could...what? Rent his army out for different missions or something? Wondering how many of this guy's "men" Rudy had signed out for, and thus wondering how many of Peter's men she'd killed over the years, she hoped it was a lot.
Then a chill ran through her, when the plan, THE plan that Alex had told her about - what the 'Agents' were trying to accomplish by abducting people - actually came straight from Peter's mouth, in plain English. And the joyful detachment from the words themselves made her feel sick all over again about Rudy. This guy was so...happy. He knew exactly what the Agents were doing and he seemed perfectly alright with the reasons why. Was Rudy like that? If he was after her...he had to know what was eventually going to happen to her, didn't he? Peter's cheerful attitude also put her in mind of Rudy's "best friend" act. The apathetic distance that covered his true intent and allowed him to smile breezily while he attempted to slaughter her. Or, if they believed Peter's reasoning, "merely" torture and identity theft.
A new sound appeared alongside Peter's voice and Osono glared when the man flippantly brought up the fact that he was currently in the middle of interrogating and killing someone. And Alex had said she'd fit right in with these people. Did he really think she was like that? Now that she knew and understood what they were like, she was actually offended by what he'd said.
For several minutes, while Peter talked and basically answered Alex's questions about their plans, she blinked and sneered a little bit at the phone as if it had done something horribly, disgustingly wrong. He was actually telling Alex their plans??? Seriously, even after she heard that aggravatingly cheerful voice coming through the speakers like a Cherub had begun floating around inside the car, Osono would have believed that this guy was sharp, if someone told her that he was. And the fact that he apparently was causing death and pain for those around him and seemed to revel in it, just made his menacing factor shoot through the roof. But now he was handing out their plans as if Alex had performed some agile, verbal-slight-of-hand to get it.
She was momentarily distracted from wondering if the guy was a moron or not, when she heard that sound again and cocked her head to the side a little, and leaned towards the phone, as if trying to draw the noise out more clearly. Something about it tickled at her brain, but she couldn't figure out what it was. Whenever Peter wasn't talking, then Alex was and she couldn't get a clear grasp on the choking sounds. Then she sat back in her seat with a disturbed frown when she realized the morbidity of trying to hear the sounds of someone dying. But still, even as the conversation continued and that gagging became somewhat audible between words or in small pauses, she could not shake the feeling that--
Alex's warning had faded by now, so she was unprepared for Xander's enraged outburst and nearly jumped out of her skin when he screamed. Thankfully, she kept the Audi steady, but she blinked at him warily and the car was filled with a surge of heat as Xander went on to threaten and verbally abuse the Agent on the phone. Wow. She'd been really, really wrong when she suspected he'd try and reveal their plans in some way to his Agent "friend". She knew a lot of it had to do with the past he had with this guy, but she didn't truly understand Xander's verge-of-insanity anger until Peter spelled it out for her: his body. His original body(they kept those? Ew). That's what they were going to Charlton to do. That's why Alex was not going to be able to fight for a while when they got there. And she didn't really know how to feel about that...
Again, she felt like she was missing crucial parts of the puzzle when Peter talked about himself and mentioned "trying out a few powers" and needing something that was bright and flashy, as if he'd been considering taking Alex's back when they'd known each other. How many times could an Agent be taken out and put back into people's heads? How many people could one Agent jump into? How many powers did this Peter guy have? Did he still have them if Xander had killed him - or at least the person who's brain he'd taken over? And about that...
Osono glanced at Alex when Peter mentioned 'sunglasses with holes through them' and she wondered what exactly it was that he could do. Until very recently, she'd assumed that he was weaker than her - although, still pretty skilled with fighting - and that she'd be able to take him out without breaking a sweat if he caused her any problems. But now...she wasn't so sure. He had an Agent in his head - which she was starting to get a better and better view of their menacing qualities, as well as Xander's capacity for rage and violence - AND he did something that could cause seizures and possibly break through sunglasses. Not a terribly big threat, but it was the unknown that made her cautious - how much bigger did things get, beyond that point? And plus, Peter seemed to know a lot about Alex and Xander and even he was surprised and impressed by his attack power.
Then Peter asked one more senseless question and hurried through a very emotional dismissal of the Agent they'd captured and hung up with his bizarre farewell still echoing in her ears. Even though the pressure of the man's presence had officially "left" she did not relax, instinctively knowing that things weren't over as Alex began talking to Xander again.
Whether out of a nervousness about how she'd react - because she was obviously capable of sadistically taking joy and pleasure out of killing people, remember? - or out of genuine politeness towards her, Ozzie was grateful when he transferred the conversation to out in the open for her, again. And now that they'd returned to their side-by-side back-and-forth, she was immediately able to pick out the different inflections in each of their voices - Xander being a faster talker with a fiercer tone of voice, while Alex wasn't exactly calmer, but his tone and pace were steadier.
She was distracted from their resumed planning when Xander openly berated Alex for missing an important detail regarding Peter's revelations - something which she didn't even think he said in this conversation but which Alex was expected to remember about the guy they hadn't seen in years. It wasn't that it was unfounded or the mean name he used, but she ended up getting defensive about what he'd said, anyway. Was he the one? The one who kept being a dick to her through this trip? The one who kept on bringing Rudy up like he knew the guy the way that she knew him? Thinking back...she wasn't sure; she couldn't tell the difference between them from her memories - he'd never sounded like he was someone else, except when they'd fooled the Agent woman. Other than a natural bite to his voice when he got angry or when he was saying something to hurt her, she didn't recognize or see it like she could now.
Well, she was assuming it was Xander who'd said those things - from the point when she'd even discovered he existed to now, he'd been a bit of a sarcastic, hateful jerk and Alex had been the calm, rational, and reasonable one. And now she felt guilty that this whole time, she'd just thought Alex was an asshole, when it was more likely the Agent in his head blurting shit out.
These new realizations and conclusions were practically confirmed when Alex asked a fairly reasonable set of questions - questions she DEFINITELY wanted a straightforward answer to - and instead of answering them, Xander threatened to jump out into traffic! Not only was she annoyed because it was an immature thing to do, but he seriously, arrogantly expected when he vaguely hinted that he might double-cross them, that he shouldn't be fucking called on it! Even when he did explain himself - which...actually turned out to be a reasonable point - he acted like these were things that should have been obvious to everyone else. Which they weren't - how were they suppose to know what was in his or Peter's heads. He acted like, despite being an AGENT, he shouldn't be expected to explain himself if he implied that he might be willing to rejoin the other side. If she didn't know any better, she'd think that he was being a bit too defensive and uncooperative.
Then with a few last fired words, the tantrum was over and Alex was hesitantly attempting to smooth over the dust he'd kicked up in his rage. And she really felt bad then, because of how much she'd hated him before and realizing that he hadn't deserved any of it. He was the one who was actually trying to connect, here. They could have saved themselves a lot of trouble if she'd known there were two people in there rather than just assuming Alex was only nice to her to manipulate her and/or make her let her guard down to then lash out at her again. Stupid, Xander! The sooner we get rid of him, the better!
She couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic about her getting along with Xander, but she dryly said, "Yeah. He's a real sweetheart." And she paused to roll her eyes. "Anyways, I guess the plan really doesn't change then, huh? I mean, there's the possibility that we'll need to kill the guy that's in your head, once you get him out."
She stopped and pressed her lips together, glancing down at the GPS - their little car-arrow was practically on top of the star marking Charlton - and at it's direction, she turned off of the highway. Fighting with Xander or provoking him would not be a good idea right now, even though she was very willing to tear into him for the way he'd been treating her and the way he'd been treating Alex. She thought about Alex and how he'd be stuck in the middle - again; just like the other times she'd exploded on Xander for saying something crass. He shared a body with this guy so she'd basically be yelling in his face too, probably making it more difficult for him to control and calm the guy in his head. And as fired up as she was about everything, including the sticky situation where she didn't even want Xander to be in Charlton with her anymore, she realized he'd just gotten off the phone with a really bad guy and probably could use a break from constantly getting slugged in the face. But she wasn't going to forget!
"You were right though," she said, the car smoothly following the curving road and casting long shadows on the guardrail and foliage beyond. "I really...had no idea what they were like. That guy..." She shook her head and scowled out the windshield, hearing Peter's sunshine voice flippantly discussing murder in her head again and burning up inside with the desire to beat the shit out of him. "I think I have a little bit better understanding of what these people are like. Even though Rudy has never shown me anything like that." There was...something nudging in the back of her head, but she couldn't quite grasp it. And then it was gone.
She shrugged. "I think the plan will still work as it is. What more could we add to 'charge inside throwing fists and kicks, you...getting his body back while I stand guard, and then searching for Gwen while we burn our way out' that wouldn't take into account something worse suddenly appearing in our way? And you can whip out the 'sunglasses destroyer' move when things get really tough."
Wait...what had that guy said about Gwen? He'd said someone was already working on the 'transfer' - which she now knew/assumed meant 'sticking an Agent into her head'. "That guy...Peter...he said Gwen was going somewhere else, didn't he? Elmira." He'd said "they" when he mentioned it, so that meant that "Maddy", or whoever, wasn't going there alone. Wherever Gwen was going, Ozzie was going to follow. They were going to get her out of there.
As they started passing a few houses and shops dotting the roadside here and there, the setting sun painting everything orange, the GPS finally spoke up, informing them that the arrow had reached the star on the map. Letting out a reluctant sigh, Osono said, "Alright...now where is this place? Xander, do you know? Or do we just drive around and sorta hope that we'll know it when we see it?"
The city rose up around them and lights were starting to be turned on along the streets, mimicking daylight in the encroaching twilight as they passed shops, a hotel and a college campus with a large, illuminated football field. She thought about how the other building they'd broken into looked, but from the outside, it'd just been like any other office building. Osono didn't want to waste any more time. Gwen was heading off somewhere and they had to get to her before her "transfer" happened and now they were being expected while something just as big, if not bigger was being expected right around the same time.
"Let's pull over and wake up catsuit-lady; she might know where it is. That is, if you're up to playing pretend again, Mr. Agent." She tried to sound sympathetic, but now she couldn't shake the impatience and scorn from her voice, so ended up just sounding reluctantly tolerant instead.
Okay, this was bad. And he was completely willing to own all of the blame for not being able to breathe right now. Except...it was totally that Jason dude's fault. Rudy knew something was wrong as soon as the big guy started smiling, but what exactly the problem was didn't "click" until that familiar happy voice started coming from the giant's mouth. Seriously. How the hell did he fuck that one up?
He knew that wimpy guy Steph ran off with wasn't the A-1! But damn Jason told him she was with Patten, which at the time, Rudy assumed he meant they were in an illicit relationship AND that they were upstairs engaging in such illicit activities right at that moment. That fat guy was the only one she seemed even remotely interested in, with her hands pawing all over him and calling him pet names. She hadn't even looked at this muscle-head once! So, clearly, the idiot wearing that gay-ass suit was the one to blame for getting him confused, and Rudy was going to make damn sure the goggle-wearing asshole paid for putting him in the massive hold of this sunny Sith Lord. Just as soon as he finished making the list of "Important Things to Ask Immediately When Meeting Someone for the Very First Time" which #1 of course was "WHAT IS YOUR FREAKING NAME?"!
Clinging to Eric's thick wrist with both of his hands, Rudy continued to gag while the guy ignored him and chatted happily on his phone. And Rudy listened, despite being a bit light-headed and his lungs burning as they struggled to suck air through the tiny straw that his throat had become. Trying to absorb anything he could use to improve his current situation, he found himself distracted from choking AND mentally recording names, when Eric painted a picture of what was clearly a description of the body transfer. He said he'd tried to do that to the guy on the other line, so.... the person he was talking to was a target?
Immediately Rudy thought of his own target, Ozzie, wondering where she was. Briefly he released his weak hold on Patten's arm and out of habit, reached a shaky hand halfway down to his pocket before he remembered his phone was not in there. Everything had gotten so complicated...especially when he'd started his revenge quest against Gwen and Noel. He hadn't had time to stop and check if Ozzie was okay and what her location was. But he'd been confident the entire time that delivering Gwen would secure his life and that blackmailing Stephanie would get him his rank back. He'd assumed that he would be able to return to his case and pursuit without any more trouble or bumps in the road.
And now he was probably going to die. Most likely the next person assigned to the case would be able to capture Osono instantly. He'd completely lowered her expectations to the point where she had no real concept of what a team of Agents could do with a well thought out plan, and he'd utilized the very efficient and infallible Heat-Spectrum Analyzer in tracking her(which wasn't it's original use). She was especially done for when the new Lead thought up the ingenious idea to use flame-retardant suits and water hoses - which any sane person would, right away - to weaken her further and ensure a speedy victory. And with him dead, Noel would no doubt be able to move onto her transfer, finally, after all these years. Erasing Osono and taking over her body and powers... He disagreed with Patten. The body transfer WAS death, and Rudy had basically killed her.
Getting angry for no reason whatsoever, Quin continued to wheeze and choke around intended curses as his neck spasmed within the A-1's grasp, and the wounded Agent pulled and tugged at a thick finger, feebly attempting to dislodge his hold while glaring at him through swollen bruises. Which actually turned out to be another bad idea when the hand around his neck absent-mindedly - and...playfully - tightened in response and Patten bragged about Rudy's current situation to whoever he was talking to. Yeah, 'Teehee! He was havin' a fuckin' blast and feeling closer to Patten already! Close enough to hit him with the Aurora as soon as the Incredible Hulk's back was turned!
As soon as the guy had grabbed him and lifted him like a weed being yanked up from the ground - and it took exactly that much effort for the colossus to do it - Rudy had frantically begun stumbling over an apology for the inappropriate things he'd said, begging and whimpering for mercy. Fuck that. He was pissed now! ...He still wasn't really sure why he was mad...but he wasn't going to let some pompous, smiling freak push him around! He came here to make some deals and get his demotion reversed and he wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer - even if it came in the form of putting him in a grave. And there was no way in hell that he was going to let some phony try and take his case from him!
Rudy blinked hazily through a struggling gasp when it started to sound like the A-1 was detailing their/his ambush plan to the target on the phone - who he now knew was Xander/Alexander aka "Ben"; the psychotic loser who attacked him in the bathroom at the restaurant - and for several minutes he began to wildly wonder why Patten would do that. Then he realized he didn't care and faded out for the rest of the one-sided conversation, trying to figure out what he was going to do about this current "neck problem" he was having. Patten had told the other guy that he wanted information out of Quin, so that meant he was going to put him down and allow him to talk at some point. So Rudy had to figure out what information the A-1 wanted and how much he was going to give him. If he spilled everything right away, Eric would kill him once he wasn't useful anymore. But if he didn't tell him enough, he'd probably kill Rudy anyways just for jerking him around.
Finally, Patten was hanging up his phone and addressing him with an overly friendly tone of voice. Rudy struggled with his throat to force curses out, making more wet, garbled choking sounds, but Patten was no longer looking at him as someone else entered the room and started talking--!!! Jason! That dick! Put me down! I'm gonna fucking kill him! Rudy would have liked to move his arms in a vague, clawing motion at the bastard who'd gotten him into this mess - or at the very least make a menacing 'I'm watching you' gesture - but everything below his shoulders was drained of strength and a little numb. No wonder, with his lack of oxygen, bruises that littered his body from head to toe and all the blood that had poured out of him during the course of the day.
Momentarily, Rudy was distracted from his exhausted hate when he focused on what the other guy was saying and...it suddenly became clear to him why he'd been tricked. So Jason had gotten a taste of poon-tang! Wait...he and Patten were knocking boots with the same woman? Well, not really surprising - it was Stephanie afterall. The thing that shocked him was that the A-1 seemed to be aware of the other relationship but didn't seem all that jealous. Then again, maybe it was a strictly "business" thing, rather than an actual, loving affair. Rudy could totally sympathize with that.
His musings were cut short as he was suddenly dropped, and for the first breath of a second when the hand released him and he fell, his mind giddily celebrated his freedom. Then he landed and pain exploded in his side, back and hip and he lay in a crumpled heap, gasping and trying to re-inflate his burning lungs. Mobility slowly returned to him through the fog of agony, giving him a feeble control over his limbs, and his head laid sideways on the ground, watching the two men continue talking in a slanted angle. At the moment, he didn't focus on what was said, only glad that Patten was now thoroughly distracted by his rival, and frantically tried to goad his body into responding to him, urging himself to get up and shoot the damn bastard while he wasn't paying attention. Sadly, the struggle took longer than he wanted it to, so he was groaning and wincing his way into a sitting position by the time Patten was turning back to him.
He didn't let himself stop and think, but pushed himself up off the ground with a burst of fear and rage, stifling the moan of pain that threatened to explode from his lips as he wavered and stumbled on his feet. His hand quickly retreated into his pocket and back out again, and he took several steps back from Patten while tiny bits of metal flew up and coalesced into a menacing, oblong mass covering his right hand. His shoulder protested from him using that arm, but he ignored the aching bullet wound as he gestured violently with the gun pointing at the A-1, and screaming a string of angry obscenities.
"Stay the fuck away from me, you crazy son of a bitch!" he shrieked, his voice reaching a higher pitch than it was used to and breaking as his throat protested. He paused only a moment to cough several times and swallow painfully before his mouth was running a mile a minute again, keeping the Aurora pointed steady at the taller man's broad chest and charged with a neon orange glow. "How the fuck was I suppose to know who you were? It's an easy mistake to make - you look nothing like a flamboyant, homicidal fruitcake - which, by the way, just so you know, that is exactly what you sound like on the phone. And I bet I'm supposed to say 'I'm sorry' now, for all the things I said about you behind your back but technically to your face, right? Well, I'm not! I'm glad you got told off - I bet it rarely happens, huh? 'Cause you're so fricking 'badass' and shit! - and I'm doubly glad it was me that got to say it!" He paused only a second to think that over.
"And I hope you die of rape-cancer!" he said with bravado, attempting to stand his ground but inching further and further out of Patten's reach, as if he might suddenly spring forth at any second and grab ahold of him again. "That restaurant thing? I told you before; that was Noel's fault! I didn't issue one order to those guys! I didn't even talk to them! I had MY plan and then Noel thought she'd be cute by grabbing my attention in the middle of the fight. So, your guys or not, it had nothing to do with YOU! She knew they'd probably die and she did it to get back at me! Demote her!"
His heart was pounding fiercely in his chest and his blood was running hot through his veins, sweat starting to form and collect on his body through his shirt, chilling him. It was intoxicating talking back to this high-ranking asshole as if he, Rudy, was the one in control for once. As if he had nothing to lose. But his insides had completely turned to water at the thought that he'd irrevocably passed the point of turning back: he was threatening an A-1 with a weapon and cursing him out; this wasn't technically something he was suppose to survive from. But the thought of death just made him angry again when he imagined someone else taking over his case.
"You will not lay a hand on me again. My father owns and runs the very large and illustrious Quin® food products company and he has generously contributed billions of dollars in funds to the Agency's pockets. He knows where I am and he would not be happy to learn of my death. And I don't think your boss would be pleased to get slapped with a fucking lawsuit and murder charge, in addition to losing a very good financial friend in the business world." Alright, so he was completely talking out of his ass now. His dad really did own a big snack food company and Rudy was aware that at different times in his Agency career, money from heaven had come raining down to save him from any trouble he was currently in. But he had no idea how deep Quin® was connected with Salcon or the Agency itself. Knowing his father...he would never stick his neck out far enough to risk damaging the empire he'd spent his entire life building. And Rudy lied about that too; there was nobody in his family who would give a rat's ass if he died. They all hated him, just like everybody else.
And just in case that wasn't enough to discourage the man from attacking him again and possibly crushing his skull or breaking his neck this time, Rudy pointed the gun a smidgen to the right and fired a warning shot. A flash of orange light exited the mouth of the gun, sped across the room and disappeared into the wall to the right of the door, accompanied by soft, electrical "whispering" sounds that grew in volume at the impact. Currents of electricity raced through the metal of the wall and slightly tugged and warped the door out of shape with a small metallic whine, like a beefy poltergeist was making it's presence known with a minor display of strength. With the gun pointing back at Patten he said, "What's blackmail without a little 'hee hee, now your insides are all turned into flan'? Just give me a reason; I'm excited to see how 'badass' you still look when I fill your body with a thousand amps of electrically charged hyper beams. Actually...I'm just really curious how many times I'll have to shoot you, to kill you." He was a lot bigger than other people Rudy had used the gun on. Could the Aurora take him down with one hit?
His eyes danced for a split second over to Jason's form on the ground and he remembered,"It wasn't hard to guess that you were boning Steph. Back when I knew her, she was sleeping with everybody, including higher-ups. I thought, 'Hey, why not an A-1?' you know? It's how she's advanced her own agenda before and with you wrapped around her finger, I'm sure she could pretty much do whatever the fuck she wants. Listen, I don't care what you people do, take turns with her or have a threesome or...whatever! I'm so over her now - although I'll admit, it was really freaking hot getting her to play rough with me today; she hasn't lost any of the sexy, wild rage that she's always had. Anyways, I don't want to cause anybody trouble, alright? But I will if I have to. I want--"
His back finally hit one of those over-sized pickle jars, but he didn't chance a glance at it, keeping his eyes on Patten, and looking for all the world like a rabid and bloody little raccoon, backed into a corner. "I need my rank back. I can't do anything as a fucking A-5! And no one is going to lay their grubby paws on my case! Osono is MINE!" That came out a little more vehemently and possessively than he'd intended, but he brushed it off and pressed on. "I've been working this for 6 fucking years. Undercover. I know everything about her and have her whole life and every aspect of her personality and powers freaking burned into my brain tissue! That controlling, sadistic bitch, Noel, doesn't even come close to matching me and she's the one who's going to eventually get something out of it when we finally catch her. I've worked too hard on this to let someone else take the reigns and run the show.
"Over the years, I've cut her every connection with the real world, isolated her and kept her drifting and scared and I've done it all while STILL keeping up the act of being her friend. She knows ME. She trusts ME. I'M her only fucking friend in the whole world and it's MY god dammed hunt; MY glory for finally bringing her in. I want my freaking rank back, you... crazy... Care Bear with a growth hormone problem!" Rudy glowered as intensely as he could with his swollen features, standing with the red glow of the tank pressing against his back - he could feel it, the light. It was cold, like clammy death curling it's corpsey fingers over his shoulders.
"Make me an A-3 again, full Lead over Osono's case, and I'll forget all about you and Steph and I'll never mention it to anyone. I won't tell people about her and Jason and what I know about her and Graninger, either. It might have been a long time ago, but I'm certain that it will cast doubt on her entire career if people were to find out that she had an affair with our training supervisor. I have proof and I have dates - you can check the records yourself and see exactly when she started getting 'high marks'. I'm not lying and I'm not bluffing. But that's all I want and I swear, just sign the paperwork and you'll never hear from me again."
Finally, he stopped and took a breath, swallowing the uncomfortable dryness in his throat while watching Patten warily, his gun still targeted at the giant. Yes, this was a good idea. Things would be fine. It wasn't how he usually did things, threatening and intimidating people to make them do what he wanted - annoying them worked well enough most of the time, but it wasn't going to fly with this guy. Patten only spoke in the language of force and violence. So, he didn't have a choice and it was one of the last cards he had left in his hand. He was going to fight to keep Osono, even if it meant he'd lose everything else.
"Do we have a deal?"
As soon as the leather straps were loosened and removed and her feet touched the floor, Gwen was moving as quick and as far from Noel as she possibly could. But she didn't seem to have much to fear from the female Agent who completely ignored her now, in favor of standing and staring at the door in the corner of the room. Gwen could sense that she was dangerous, but even as Noel's fingers, like spider legs, curled around the neglected scalpel and held it in her fist, all of her rage and pain was directed at the couple she thought was currently occupying the closet. By now, things had escalated to a more vocal level behind the wooden door - Good Lord, Karen! Now she was just being obnoxious! He wasn't that good! - and as she listened, Noel's mind swarmed with intense and grisly fantasies of revenge.
Apparently, the original psychic suggestion of Gwen's plan to 'anonymously release her and let Rudy and Stephanie destroy each other while trying to fix the problem' had been tossed out the window. Untying Gwen had invigorated the small, blonde woman, filling her with a sense of abandon and a thrilling freedom, to the point that 'not getting caught letting a target go' no longer mattered. All that filled her mind was Rudy, and she was eager for a confrontation with the lovers, hopefully ending in one or both of their deaths. She didn't even seem to care about dying, so long as she got to spill Rudy's blood. To own him in his final moments...
Shivering at the intensity of that obsession, Gwen retreated from the Agent's mind and left her standing by the cot to continue plotting her murder-suicide vengeance, alone. Making her way to the door, she cautiously peeked through the vertical, rectangular window set in the top left corner, about eye-level and above the doorknob. It was really dark in the hallway and even as hard as she squinted in both directions, Gwen couldn't make out any light-sources illuminating what was beyond the room. Nothing, except the small square of light spilling from the sick bay window onto the floor, now half shadowed with Gwen's invasive silhouette.
Licking her lips and pressing them together in concentration, she psychically reached out to see if there was anyone out there or anyone nearby that she might accidentally run into while trying to make her escape. There wasn't - at least not in this hallway - but she got a very strong feeling that something wasn't right. In a few rooms nearby, Gwen could feel the mental signatures of several Agents flickering like a bunch of candles spread out in a dark, cavernous space. Most of those minds, she couldn't see into - they had efficient, internal walls to block her - but she could still get a living impression off of everybody who was within her current reach. This hallway...it wasn't empty but there was no one out there. At least, no one she could sense, and she wasn't really sure what to make of that or how she should move forward.
Sudden movement from behind caught her eye but by the time she focused her abilities back onto Noel and half-turned to see her, it was too late, her hands grabbing greedily onto Gwen and pulling her from the door. Once she was over the initial shock of the attack, Gwen's body remembered her self-defense classes and she lifted her arm and her bent elbow flew back to strike the Agent in the face. As confident as Gwen was in her ability to protect herself, that rapidly changed when Noel immediately fought back. The female Agent dodged her strikes effortlessly, feinting attacks and her fists rushed past Gwen's defenses much faster than she could move to block them, proving with just a few swift movements who was more skilled between them. And Noel did not have the reservations or caution that Stephanie did for her target, so when the blows landed, they did so with the savage intent to cause pain and crippling injury.
It took less than 4 minutes for Gwen to become disoriented and fall to the floor on her back, deposited there by a dislodging sweep of the Agent's foot. And Noel immediately pounced on her, straddling Gwen mid-chest and high on her abdomen, her skirt riding up to bare her thighs but remaining unconcerned about modesty in her vicious glee. After a small bit of maneuvering, the blonde woman had Gwen's arms positioned under each knee, using her weight to keep them in place. She might have appeared to be a female version of Rudy as far as height went, but there was nothing frail or weak about her, Noel's slender form possessing more than enough muscle and weight to put pressure on the body beneath her and keep it from moving.
Gwen shook and squirmed helplessly, breathing heavily with a bleeding nose and a cut on her lip, blue eyes staring anxiously at the woman above her. Noel cocked her head to the side, honey locks falling prettily over her shoulder, and gave her a sickly sweet smile, once again flashing her neat, cute, chipmunk teeth. "I've thought it over," she politely informed Gwen, with no sign in her lilting accent of being out of breath. "And I think it would hurt Stephanie a lot more if I were to kill you instead. It's a much more permanent punishment, wouldn't you agree?"
Sometime while Gwen had left her alone, Noel's internal walls had returned, standing firmly in place once again, blocking her thoughts and emotions from Gwen's sight. Even so, Gwen realized she was still unfazed about getting caught. Obviously, things had escalated to a 'If I'm going to burn, then I might as well bathe in gasoline' mentality.
She hadn't realized it until now, but the sounds from the closet had changed, and she briefly extended her mental reach in that direction at the same time that she dragged her eyes away from the woman sitting on her. Things had come to their expected conclusion in the small, dark space amidst the supply shelves, the afterglow make-out session completed and clothes being returned to their former positions - albeit with a button or two torn from Todd's uniform in a violent fit of passion. And now, the spontaneous lovers were seeking to leave their impromptu hovel of romance. Except they couldn't. Before she came after Gwen, Noel had shoved a metal chair under the door knob, jamming it shut, with the intent to keep from being interrupted while she finished Gwen off. And both of the closet's occupants were fairly distressed about this fact and made such known with muffled, urgent calls for help and heavy banging on the inside of the door, while continuing to fruitlessly twist the door knob.
Her eyes latched back onto Noel and she tensed when she realized the Agent had brought the scalpel with her, and was sitting with it perched teasingly between her dainty forefingers. Her eyes were not on Gwen but on the thin instrument held suspended before her, dreamily absorbed in the smooth metallic surface, but not distracted or relaxed in the least. Licking her lips nervously, and ignoring the taste of blood, Gwen decided to try to manipulate the woman and possibly get her to let her guard down again. If she could just upset her enough to make her lose control, Gwen could get back inside her head and possibly steer her in a more submissive - and gentle - direction.
"You never confronted your father for what he did," as soon as Gwen started speaking, those pretty, dark orbs had shifted down to her, seemingly surprised by her victim's sudden desire to talk. Trying not to let her fear show, Gwen pressed on, encouraged by the woman's attentive silence. "All these years, holding that pain inside, letting the hate grow. Torturing and abusing men, punishing them for daddy's sin."
Noel quickly recovered from her shock and cleared her throat, arching a condescending eyebrow. "I don't know what--"
"Yes, you do." Uncertainty flickered in those bright eyes in response to the confidence swelling in Gwen's voice. Drawing from Noel's memories when they connected earlier, she attempted to ignore her vulnerable position as her voice grew stronger. "It's a vile thing for a 5 year old to suffer through, made even more monstrous since he continued to do it for 13 years. Taking advantage of you, violating your trust and love for him. Even when you left, you could never escape the agony of his abuse. Always feeling him in the room with you and your lovers. And now you've become the predator, the bloodsucker. Not just of the men you hurt and sleep with, but yourself as well. Taking daddy's place as the abuser of that little girl."
Gwen didn't need to see into the woman's head to know that her words were having an effect. Her brown eyes had a glassy shine to them now, fixated on Gwen, and her pitiful expression strongly resembling a fragile and lost child. And she paused, psychically probing at Noel's mind as she felt a sudden weakening in resistance, like attempting to peel a stubborn sticker, digging at a loose edge with her fingernails. Just a little more...
"He may have twisted and corrupted your love, but you're not unlovable. You've survived and you're strong; you can still heal. And Rudy could still love you, if you let him. If you finally made peace with what happened."
Then it was gone, the blocks slamming back into place and those shining eyes instantly lost their helpless and despairing expression. "Silly girl," Noel murmured, smiling in a detached way, one eye blinking a second faster than the other. "It's 28 years too late for me. I'm afraid I'm beyond fixing. As for Rudolph, he could never love me. He has no space in his heart for anybody but himself."
Gwen grew cold when the scalpel took center stage again, and she searched for something else she might be able to goad the Agent with to keep Noel from killing her. And she internally berated herself for how much she'd miscalculated things. Shit! I almost had her!
"Since you're so interested in my relationship with Quin, I suppose I could teach you a little more about it before you die," she offered breezily, regaining the threatening posture in her skinny form. With the grace and attitude of a sadistic child, she brought the scalpel down to touch flesh, Gwen's whole body going rigid beneath the Agent's weight. Gently, the cool metal of the surgical knife trailed across her cheek, over her chin and down her neck, following the carotid artery down to her collar bone. It wasn't cutting her - yet - but Gwen could feel it's pointed tip lightly dragging over her skin, and she tried not to move, whimpering softly as her heart pulsed a harsh and erratic beat.
"Rudy always loves this game..." Noel said in a soft whisper, her eyes no longer seeing Gwen but looking through her.
((Too big! Cont. below))
Osono let out a testy breath when Alex started talking and responding to thin air, obviously having a conversation that she was hearing only part of. But she kept silent and waited with the patience of a boiling tea kettle, expecting to be included again at some point, while also paying attention and trying to gather as much as she could from Alex's words alone. Then he completely surprised her when he hit call and set the phone on the dashboard, the sound of a ringing chirping emitted from it's speakers. He'd...changed it so that she could hear what the other guy was saying when/if he finally answered. Caught off guard, she slowly released the burning heat she'd started to collect in the interior of the car, and relaxed just a few notches. It was enough of a gesture that she regained some of her original trust and she gave Alex a small, grateful look.
She listened quietly as he explained a bit more of what he knew about these people and the effect of his words got her pumped up, ready for a fight, again. His history with this Peter guy reminded her of Rudy - not that the situations were anything alike - and she wondered why that little geek hadn't tried something like that in the very beginning. There had been a time when she'd trusted and liked him and probably would have gone with him to an Agency base if he'd convinced her it was another one of his stupid conventions.
And once again, she was made aware of the "other" guy, when he vehemently interjected at the end, followed by Alex's voice trying to calm him down. She forgave herself for not noticing the differences earlier - that is...if 'Xander' had talked very much at all since she'd met him; she wasn't sure - because it DID sound like Alex was suddenly, violently pissed off. The transition between them was so smooth, she didn't realize the other one had spoken until Alex addressed him as if he had.
Osono involuntarily tightened her grip on the steering wheel and clenched her teeth when a woman's voice suddenly came out of the phone, talking like one of those people who were just a little too excited that they'd "found Jesus". After a minor bit of muttering - which she didn't get defensive about, for once - suddenly Alex sounded like he was trying to imitate Cindy in cheerful greeting. But there was something different enough about his tone, that she suspected Xander had taken the reigns again. It was tricky and most noticeable when the two talked to each other, but the change was there and she was starting to get the hang of identifying who was saying what.
Even as irritating as that phony, Cindy, was, Ozzie broke a small smirk and shook her head in amusement when Xander responded with a mocking gushiness, like a less than subtle ice pick stabbed into the cheerful woman's eye. And despite this entertaining back and forth continuing for a few rounds, the smirk eventually disappeared off her face when she remembered how serious things were. It wasn't a joke. Cindy had a typical receptionist flair of course - and was insufferably dim as well - but these people had databases and needed access codes to run computer searches. Not that this was news to Osono - it was why there was an Agent in the trunk - but she'd momentarily forgotten, when Cindy joined the conversation, that they were going to try to break into one of these places. And these people were a lot more organized and prepared than they were.
Xander lost his "fun" image when he was able to promptly provide a code and listed off numbers and letters in a level stream. Even when immediately after, he made another sarcastic gibe at the sickeningly happy woman, it didn't restore Osono's good humor. She was remembering how he'd handled that female Agent, like he was her boss or something, knowing things and getting her to obey him with barely any fight. And he'd known she'd have a phone on her and where he'd needed to look... There'd been a few moments there, where she would have been willing to accept him as being on their side, but his being an Agent was becoming a less and less comfortable prospect, by the minute.
During all of this, Ozzie had kept her eyes mainly on the road, of course, but when Alex started talking to himself again, she gave him a quick look, surreptitiously watching him. This. This is what those "hidden behind his hand" and "against his shoulder" conversations looked like when they were had out in the open. It was a little unsettling in that, 'Dude, there's no one there' way, but at the same time she found herself pitying him. Not just for the sort of pathetic 'specialness' that he exuded while doing it, and not just for the fact that he actually shared a body with someone he didn't like and didn't trust. But also because of what that had probably done to his life. Almost the entire time she'd been with him, Alex had a habit of muttering to himself and had tried to conceal this fact in different semi-casual - yet really obvious - ways. It was hard to imagine that it was easy for him to make friends. And from what he was saying, it sounded like Agents were constantly on his tail as well and that meant moving around from place to place. She definitely knew what that kind of life was like.
The sudden smile on his face made her think that possibly she was wrong to feel sorry for him, just like he would be if he felt that way towards her. He wasn't weak and he'd found a way to cope with things.
Cindy returned, filling the car with her upbeat voice again and said a bunch of things that Osono didn't quite understand. She couldn't really tell if Xander understood what she was talking about either. What was an 'absorbed account'? Was that when they put an Agent in someone's head? Then why was the 'overall' account, her boss, an Agent? Apparently, Xander thought it might be the same guy they were looking to talk to, so Cindy was thankfully gone again - hopefully, for good - when he ordered her to connect him to her boss.
It was sorta funny when Alex asked himself if he was 'going to go crazy' but she tensed just the tiniest bit when he warned her about Xander's tantrums. She didn't know quite what to expect, but if the anger he'd already displayed in just considering the possibility of Peter still being alive was any clue, then she imagined things would be worse if/when he actually ended up talking to the guy.
The first sign of life from the other end of the phone was...definitely not what she expected at all. Well...first of all, who the hell even says 'Whoopsie-doodle'? Except possibly 3 year-olds who liked making up words and bastardizing others in their own baby language. Osono's attention was drawn momentarily back to Alex again as he murmured something through clenched teeth - was he hurt? Was Xander doing something? - but then the sunshiny voice was coming back through the phone, prattling about something that didn't make sense to her. New hands...?
Everything about this rubbed her the wrong way. Not the phone call itself, or Alex talking to him and identifying him as 'Peter'. But the guy himself made her very uncomfortable in a way that she couldn't really define the root of. And she didn't want to. His voice made her feel threatened and uneasy and really angry, like a flutter in her gut and a random desire to send her fist through a glass window - despite everything about it being boisterously friendly and even possessing a sense of innocence. Wasn't that enough of a reason, to simply not like whoever he was?
It made her feel better to keep her eyes off the phone and on the road, but even as she paid attention to the growing, evening traffic, everything inside her was focused on the voice coming from the speaker. She bristled when he mentioned the 'restaurant', thinking that he was somehow involved in the attack on her and the capture of Gwen, but he sorta placed the blame back on Rudy again when he mentioned that lackeys could...what? Rent his army out for different missions or something? Wondering how many of this guy's "men" Rudy had signed out for, and thus wondering how many of Peter's men she'd killed over the years, she hoped it was a lot.
Then a chill ran through her, when the plan, THE plan that Alex had told her about - what the 'Agents' were trying to accomplish by abducting people - actually came straight from Peter's mouth, in plain English. And the joyful detachment from the words themselves made her feel sick all over again about Rudy. This guy was so...happy. He knew exactly what the Agents were doing and he seemed perfectly alright with the reasons why. Was Rudy like that? If he was after her...he had to know what was eventually going to happen to her, didn't he? Peter's cheerful attitude also put her in mind of Rudy's "best friend" act. The apathetic distance that covered his true intent and allowed him to smile breezily while he attempted to slaughter her. Or, if they believed Peter's reasoning, "merely" torture and identity theft.
A new sound appeared alongside Peter's voice and Osono glared when the man flippantly brought up the fact that he was currently in the middle of interrogating and killing someone. And Alex had said she'd fit right in with these people. Did he really think she was like that? Now that she knew and understood what they were like, she was actually offended by what he'd said.
For several minutes, while Peter talked and basically answered Alex's questions about their plans, she blinked and sneered a little bit at the phone as if it had done something horribly, disgustingly wrong. He was actually telling Alex their plans??? Seriously, even after she heard that aggravatingly cheerful voice coming through the speakers like a Cherub had begun floating around inside the car, Osono would have believed that this guy was sharp, if someone told her that he was. And the fact that he apparently was causing death and pain for those around him and seemed to revel in it, just made his menacing factor shoot through the roof. But now he was handing out their plans as if Alex had performed some agile, verbal-slight-of-hand to get it.
She was momentarily distracted from wondering if the guy was a moron or not, when she heard that sound again and cocked her head to the side a little, and leaned towards the phone, as if trying to draw the noise out more clearly. Something about it tickled at her brain, but she couldn't figure out what it was. Whenever Peter wasn't talking, then Alex was and she couldn't get a clear grasp on the choking sounds. Then she sat back in her seat with a disturbed frown when she realized the morbidity of trying to hear the sounds of someone dying. But still, even as the conversation continued and that gagging became somewhat audible between words or in small pauses, she could not shake the feeling that--
Alex's warning had faded by now, so she was unprepared for Xander's enraged outburst and nearly jumped out of her skin when he screamed. Thankfully, she kept the Audi steady, but she blinked at him warily and the car was filled with a surge of heat as Xander went on to threaten and verbally abuse the Agent on the phone. Wow. She'd been really, really wrong when she suspected he'd try and reveal their plans in some way to his Agent "friend". She knew a lot of it had to do with the past he had with this guy, but she didn't truly understand Xander's verge-of-insanity anger until Peter spelled it out for her: his body. His original body(they kept those? Ew). That's what they were going to Charlton to do. That's why Alex was not going to be able to fight for a while when they got there. And she didn't really know how to feel about that...
Again, she felt like she was missing crucial parts of the puzzle when Peter talked about himself and mentioned "trying out a few powers" and needing something that was bright and flashy, as if he'd been considering taking Alex's back when they'd known each other. How many times could an Agent be taken out and put back into people's heads? How many people could one Agent jump into? How many powers did this Peter guy have? Did he still have them if Xander had killed him - or at least the person who's brain he'd taken over? And about that...
Osono glanced at Alex when Peter mentioned 'sunglasses with holes through them' and she wondered what exactly it was that he could do. Until very recently, she'd assumed that he was weaker than her - although, still pretty skilled with fighting - and that she'd be able to take him out without breaking a sweat if he caused her any problems. But now...she wasn't so sure. He had an Agent in his head - which she was starting to get a better and better view of their menacing qualities, as well as Xander's capacity for rage and violence - AND he did something that could cause seizures and possibly break through sunglasses. Not a terribly big threat, but it was the unknown that made her cautious - how much bigger did things get, beyond that point? And plus, Peter seemed to know a lot about Alex and Xander and even he was surprised and impressed by his attack power.
Then Peter asked one more senseless question and hurried through a very emotional dismissal of the Agent they'd captured and hung up with his bizarre farewell still echoing in her ears. Even though the pressure of the man's presence had officially "left" she did not relax, instinctively knowing that things weren't over as Alex began talking to Xander again.
Whether out of a nervousness about how she'd react - because she was obviously capable of sadistically taking joy and pleasure out of killing people, remember? - or out of genuine politeness towards her, Ozzie was grateful when he transferred the conversation to out in the open for her, again. And now that they'd returned to their side-by-side back-and-forth, she was immediately able to pick out the different inflections in each of their voices - Xander being a faster talker with a fiercer tone of voice, while Alex wasn't exactly calmer, but his tone and pace were steadier.
She was distracted from their resumed planning when Xander openly berated Alex for missing an important detail regarding Peter's revelations - something which she didn't even think he said in this conversation but which Alex was expected to remember about the guy they hadn't seen in years. It wasn't that it was unfounded or the mean name he used, but she ended up getting defensive about what he'd said, anyway. Was he the one? The one who kept being a dick to her through this trip? The one who kept on bringing Rudy up like he knew the guy the way that she knew him? Thinking back...she wasn't sure; she couldn't tell the difference between them from her memories - he'd never sounded like he was someone else, except when they'd fooled the Agent woman. Other than a natural bite to his voice when he got angry or when he was saying something to hurt her, she didn't recognize or see it like she could now.
Well, she was assuming it was Xander who'd said those things - from the point when she'd even discovered he existed to now, he'd been a bit of a sarcastic, hateful jerk and Alex had been the calm, rational, and reasonable one. And now she felt guilty that this whole time, she'd just thought Alex was an asshole, when it was more likely the Agent in his head blurting shit out.
These new realizations and conclusions were practically confirmed when Alex asked a fairly reasonable set of questions - questions she DEFINITELY wanted a straightforward answer to - and instead of answering them, Xander threatened to jump out into traffic! Not only was she annoyed because it was an immature thing to do, but he seriously, arrogantly expected when he vaguely hinted that he might double-cross them, that he shouldn't be fucking called on it! Even when he did explain himself - which...actually turned out to be a reasonable point - he acted like these were things that should have been obvious to everyone else. Which they weren't - how were they suppose to know what was in his or Peter's heads. He acted like, despite being an AGENT, he shouldn't be expected to explain himself if he implied that he might be willing to rejoin the other side. If she didn't know any better, she'd think that he was being a bit too defensive and uncooperative.
Then with a few last fired words, the tantrum was over and Alex was hesitantly attempting to smooth over the dust he'd kicked up in his rage. And she really felt bad then, because of how much she'd hated him before and realizing that he hadn't deserved any of it. He was the one who was actually trying to connect, here. They could have saved themselves a lot of trouble if she'd known there were two people in there rather than just assuming Alex was only nice to her to manipulate her and/or make her let her guard down to then lash out at her again. Stupid, Xander! The sooner we get rid of him, the better!
She couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic about her getting along with Xander, but she dryly said, "Yeah. He's a real sweetheart." And she paused to roll her eyes. "Anyways, I guess the plan really doesn't change then, huh? I mean, there's the possibility that we'll need to kill the guy that's in your head, once you get him out."
She stopped and pressed her lips together, glancing down at the GPS - their little car-arrow was practically on top of the star marking Charlton - and at it's direction, she turned off of the highway. Fighting with Xander or provoking him would not be a good idea right now, even though she was very willing to tear into him for the way he'd been treating her and the way he'd been treating Alex. She thought about Alex and how he'd be stuck in the middle - again; just like the other times she'd exploded on Xander for saying something crass. He shared a body with this guy so she'd basically be yelling in his face too, probably making it more difficult for him to control and calm the guy in his head. And as fired up as she was about everything, including the sticky situation where she didn't even want Xander to be in Charlton with her anymore, she realized he'd just gotten off the phone with a really bad guy and probably could use a break from constantly getting slugged in the face. But she wasn't going to forget!
"You were right though," she said, the car smoothly following the curving road and casting long shadows on the guardrail and foliage beyond. "I really...had no idea what they were like. That guy..." She shook her head and scowled out the windshield, hearing Peter's sunshine voice flippantly discussing murder in her head again and burning up inside with the desire to beat the shit out of him. "I think I have a little bit better understanding of what these people are like. Even though Rudy has never shown me anything like that." There was...something nudging in the back of her head, but she couldn't quite grasp it. And then it was gone.
She shrugged. "I think the plan will still work as it is. What more could we add to 'charge inside throwing fists and kicks, you...getting his body back while I stand guard, and then searching for Gwen while we burn our way out' that wouldn't take into account something worse suddenly appearing in our way? And you can whip out the 'sunglasses destroyer' move when things get really tough."
Wait...what had that guy said about Gwen? He'd said someone was already working on the 'transfer' - which she now knew/assumed meant 'sticking an Agent into her head'. "That guy...Peter...he said Gwen was going somewhere else, didn't he? Elmira." He'd said "they" when he mentioned it, so that meant that "Maddy", or whoever, wasn't going there alone. Wherever Gwen was going, Ozzie was going to follow. They were going to get her out of there.
As they started passing a few houses and shops dotting the roadside here and there, the setting sun painting everything orange, the GPS finally spoke up, informing them that the arrow had reached the star on the map. Letting out a reluctant sigh, Osono said, "Alright...now where is this place? Xander, do you know? Or do we just drive around and sorta hope that we'll know it when we see it?"
The city rose up around them and lights were starting to be turned on along the streets, mimicking daylight in the encroaching twilight as they passed shops, a hotel and a college campus with a large, illuminated football field. She thought about how the other building they'd broken into looked, but from the outside, it'd just been like any other office building. Osono didn't want to waste any more time. Gwen was heading off somewhere and they had to get to her before her "transfer" happened and now they were being expected while something just as big, if not bigger was being expected right around the same time.
"Let's pull over and wake up catsuit-lady; she might know where it is. That is, if you're up to playing pretend again, Mr. Agent." She tried to sound sympathetic, but now she couldn't shake the impatience and scorn from her voice, so ended up just sounding reluctantly tolerant instead.
****
Okay, this was bad. And he was completely willing to own all of the blame for not being able to breathe right now. Except...it was totally that Jason dude's fault. Rudy knew something was wrong as soon as the big guy started smiling, but what exactly the problem was didn't "click" until that familiar happy voice started coming from the giant's mouth. Seriously. How the hell did he fuck that one up?
He knew that wimpy guy Steph ran off with wasn't the A-1! But damn Jason told him she was with Patten, which at the time, Rudy assumed he meant they were in an illicit relationship AND that they were upstairs engaging in such illicit activities right at that moment. That fat guy was the only one she seemed even remotely interested in, with her hands pawing all over him and calling him pet names. She hadn't even looked at this muscle-head once! So, clearly, the idiot wearing that gay-ass suit was the one to blame for getting him confused, and Rudy was going to make damn sure the goggle-wearing asshole paid for putting him in the massive hold of this sunny Sith Lord. Just as soon as he finished making the list of "Important Things to Ask Immediately When Meeting Someone for the Very First Time" which #1 of course was "WHAT IS YOUR FREAKING NAME?"!
Clinging to Eric's thick wrist with both of his hands, Rudy continued to gag while the guy ignored him and chatted happily on his phone. And Rudy listened, despite being a bit light-headed and his lungs burning as they struggled to suck air through the tiny straw that his throat had become. Trying to absorb anything he could use to improve his current situation, he found himself distracted from choking AND mentally recording names, when Eric painted a picture of what was clearly a description of the body transfer. He said he'd tried to do that to the guy on the other line, so.... the person he was talking to was a target?
Immediately Rudy thought of his own target, Ozzie, wondering where she was. Briefly he released his weak hold on Patten's arm and out of habit, reached a shaky hand halfway down to his pocket before he remembered his phone was not in there. Everything had gotten so complicated...especially when he'd started his revenge quest against Gwen and Noel. He hadn't had time to stop and check if Ozzie was okay and what her location was. But he'd been confident the entire time that delivering Gwen would secure his life and that blackmailing Stephanie would get him his rank back. He'd assumed that he would be able to return to his case and pursuit without any more trouble or bumps in the road.
And now he was probably going to die. Most likely the next person assigned to the case would be able to capture Osono instantly. He'd completely lowered her expectations to the point where she had no real concept of what a team of Agents could do with a well thought out plan, and he'd utilized the very efficient and infallible Heat-Spectrum Analyzer in tracking her(which wasn't it's original use). She was especially done for when the new Lead thought up the ingenious idea to use flame-retardant suits and water hoses - which any sane person would, right away - to weaken her further and ensure a speedy victory. And with him dead, Noel would no doubt be able to move onto her transfer, finally, after all these years. Erasing Osono and taking over her body and powers... He disagreed with Patten. The body transfer WAS death, and Rudy had basically killed her.
Getting angry for no reason whatsoever, Quin continued to wheeze and choke around intended curses as his neck spasmed within the A-1's grasp, and the wounded Agent pulled and tugged at a thick finger, feebly attempting to dislodge his hold while glaring at him through swollen bruises. Which actually turned out to be another bad idea when the hand around his neck absent-mindedly - and...playfully - tightened in response and Patten bragged about Rudy's current situation to whoever he was talking to. Yeah, 'Teehee! He was havin' a fuckin' blast and feeling closer to Patten already! Close enough to hit him with the Aurora as soon as the Incredible Hulk's back was turned!
As soon as the guy had grabbed him and lifted him like a weed being yanked up from the ground - and it took exactly that much effort for the colossus to do it - Rudy had frantically begun stumbling over an apology for the inappropriate things he'd said, begging and whimpering for mercy. Fuck that. He was pissed now! ...He still wasn't really sure why he was mad...but he wasn't going to let some pompous, smiling freak push him around! He came here to make some deals and get his demotion reversed and he wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer - even if it came in the form of putting him in a grave. And there was no way in hell that he was going to let some phony try and take his case from him!
Rudy blinked hazily through a struggling gasp when it started to sound like the A-1 was detailing their/his ambush plan to the target on the phone - who he now knew was Xander/Alexander aka "Ben"; the psychotic loser who attacked him in the bathroom at the restaurant - and for several minutes he began to wildly wonder why Patten would do that. Then he realized he didn't care and faded out for the rest of the one-sided conversation, trying to figure out what he was going to do about this current "neck problem" he was having. Patten had told the other guy that he wanted information out of Quin, so that meant he was going to put him down and allow him to talk at some point. So Rudy had to figure out what information the A-1 wanted and how much he was going to give him. If he spilled everything right away, Eric would kill him once he wasn't useful anymore. But if he didn't tell him enough, he'd probably kill Rudy anyways just for jerking him around.
Finally, Patten was hanging up his phone and addressing him with an overly friendly tone of voice. Rudy struggled with his throat to force curses out, making more wet, garbled choking sounds, but Patten was no longer looking at him as someone else entered the room and started talking--!!! Jason! That dick! Put me down! I'm gonna fucking kill him! Rudy would have liked to move his arms in a vague, clawing motion at the bastard who'd gotten him into this mess - or at the very least make a menacing 'I'm watching you' gesture - but everything below his shoulders was drained of strength and a little numb. No wonder, with his lack of oxygen, bruises that littered his body from head to toe and all the blood that had poured out of him during the course of the day.
Momentarily, Rudy was distracted from his exhausted hate when he focused on what the other guy was saying and...it suddenly became clear to him why he'd been tricked. So Jason had gotten a taste of poon-tang! Wait...he and Patten were knocking boots with the same woman? Well, not really surprising - it was Stephanie afterall. The thing that shocked him was that the A-1 seemed to be aware of the other relationship but didn't seem all that jealous. Then again, maybe it was a strictly "business" thing, rather than an actual, loving affair. Rudy could totally sympathize with that.
His musings were cut short as he was suddenly dropped, and for the first breath of a second when the hand released him and he fell, his mind giddily celebrated his freedom. Then he landed and pain exploded in his side, back and hip and he lay in a crumpled heap, gasping and trying to re-inflate his burning lungs. Mobility slowly returned to him through the fog of agony, giving him a feeble control over his limbs, and his head laid sideways on the ground, watching the two men continue talking in a slanted angle. At the moment, he didn't focus on what was said, only glad that Patten was now thoroughly distracted by his rival, and frantically tried to goad his body into responding to him, urging himself to get up and shoot the damn bastard while he wasn't paying attention. Sadly, the struggle took longer than he wanted it to, so he was groaning and wincing his way into a sitting position by the time Patten was turning back to him.
He didn't let himself stop and think, but pushed himself up off the ground with a burst of fear and rage, stifling the moan of pain that threatened to explode from his lips as he wavered and stumbled on his feet. His hand quickly retreated into his pocket and back out again, and he took several steps back from Patten while tiny bits of metal flew up and coalesced into a menacing, oblong mass covering his right hand. His shoulder protested from him using that arm, but he ignored the aching bullet wound as he gestured violently with the gun pointing at the A-1, and screaming a string of angry obscenities.
"Stay the fuck away from me, you crazy son of a bitch!" he shrieked, his voice reaching a higher pitch than it was used to and breaking as his throat protested. He paused only a moment to cough several times and swallow painfully before his mouth was running a mile a minute again, keeping the Aurora pointed steady at the taller man's broad chest and charged with a neon orange glow. "How the fuck was I suppose to know who you were? It's an easy mistake to make - you look nothing like a flamboyant, homicidal fruitcake - which, by the way, just so you know, that is exactly what you sound like on the phone. And I bet I'm supposed to say 'I'm sorry' now, for all the things I said about you behind your back but technically to your face, right? Well, I'm not! I'm glad you got told off - I bet it rarely happens, huh? 'Cause you're so fricking 'badass' and shit! - and I'm doubly glad it was me that got to say it!" He paused only a second to think that over.
"And I hope you die of rape-cancer!" he said with bravado, attempting to stand his ground but inching further and further out of Patten's reach, as if he might suddenly spring forth at any second and grab ahold of him again. "That restaurant thing? I told you before; that was Noel's fault! I didn't issue one order to those guys! I didn't even talk to them! I had MY plan and then Noel thought she'd be cute by grabbing my attention in the middle of the fight. So, your guys or not, it had nothing to do with YOU! She knew they'd probably die and she did it to get back at me! Demote her!"
His heart was pounding fiercely in his chest and his blood was running hot through his veins, sweat starting to form and collect on his body through his shirt, chilling him. It was intoxicating talking back to this high-ranking asshole as if he, Rudy, was the one in control for once. As if he had nothing to lose. But his insides had completely turned to water at the thought that he'd irrevocably passed the point of turning back: he was threatening an A-1 with a weapon and cursing him out; this wasn't technically something he was suppose to survive from. But the thought of death just made him angry again when he imagined someone else taking over his case.
"You will not lay a hand on me again. My father owns and runs the very large and illustrious Quin® food products company and he has generously contributed billions of dollars in funds to the Agency's pockets. He knows where I am and he would not be happy to learn of my death. And I don't think your boss would be pleased to get slapped with a fucking lawsuit and murder charge, in addition to losing a very good financial friend in the business world." Alright, so he was completely talking out of his ass now. His dad really did own a big snack food company and Rudy was aware that at different times in his Agency career, money from heaven had come raining down to save him from any trouble he was currently in. But he had no idea how deep Quin® was connected with Salcon or the Agency itself. Knowing his father...he would never stick his neck out far enough to risk damaging the empire he'd spent his entire life building. And Rudy lied about that too; there was nobody in his family who would give a rat's ass if he died. They all hated him, just like everybody else.
And just in case that wasn't enough to discourage the man from attacking him again and possibly crushing his skull or breaking his neck this time, Rudy pointed the gun a smidgen to the right and fired a warning shot. A flash of orange light exited the mouth of the gun, sped across the room and disappeared into the wall to the right of the door, accompanied by soft, electrical "whispering" sounds that grew in volume at the impact. Currents of electricity raced through the metal of the wall and slightly tugged and warped the door out of shape with a small metallic whine, like a beefy poltergeist was making it's presence known with a minor display of strength. With the gun pointing back at Patten he said, "What's blackmail without a little 'hee hee, now your insides are all turned into flan'? Just give me a reason; I'm excited to see how 'badass' you still look when I fill your body with a thousand amps of electrically charged hyper beams. Actually...I'm just really curious how many times I'll have to shoot you, to kill you." He was a lot bigger than other people Rudy had used the gun on. Could the Aurora take him down with one hit?
His eyes danced for a split second over to Jason's form on the ground and he remembered,"It wasn't hard to guess that you were boning Steph. Back when I knew her, she was sleeping with everybody, including higher-ups. I thought, 'Hey, why not an A-1?' you know? It's how she's advanced her own agenda before and with you wrapped around her finger, I'm sure she could pretty much do whatever the fuck she wants. Listen, I don't care what you people do, take turns with her or have a threesome or...whatever! I'm so over her now - although I'll admit, it was really freaking hot getting her to play rough with me today; she hasn't lost any of the sexy, wild rage that she's always had. Anyways, I don't want to cause anybody trouble, alright? But I will if I have to. I want--"
His back finally hit one of those over-sized pickle jars, but he didn't chance a glance at it, keeping his eyes on Patten, and looking for all the world like a rabid and bloody little raccoon, backed into a corner. "I need my rank back. I can't do anything as a fucking A-5! And no one is going to lay their grubby paws on my case! Osono is MINE!" That came out a little more vehemently and possessively than he'd intended, but he brushed it off and pressed on. "I've been working this for 6 fucking years. Undercover. I know everything about her and have her whole life and every aspect of her personality and powers freaking burned into my brain tissue! That controlling, sadistic bitch, Noel, doesn't even come close to matching me and she's the one who's going to eventually get something out of it when we finally catch her. I've worked too hard on this to let someone else take the reigns and run the show.
"Over the years, I've cut her every connection with the real world, isolated her and kept her drifting and scared and I've done it all while STILL keeping up the act of being her friend. She knows ME. She trusts ME. I'M her only fucking friend in the whole world and it's MY god dammed hunt; MY glory for finally bringing her in. I want my freaking rank back, you... crazy... Care Bear with a growth hormone problem!" Rudy glowered as intensely as he could with his swollen features, standing with the red glow of the tank pressing against his back - he could feel it, the light. It was cold, like clammy death curling it's corpsey fingers over his shoulders.
"Make me an A-3 again, full Lead over Osono's case, and I'll forget all about you and Steph and I'll never mention it to anyone. I won't tell people about her and Jason and what I know about her and Graninger, either. It might have been a long time ago, but I'm certain that it will cast doubt on her entire career if people were to find out that she had an affair with our training supervisor. I have proof and I have dates - you can check the records yourself and see exactly when she started getting 'high marks'. I'm not lying and I'm not bluffing. But that's all I want and I swear, just sign the paperwork and you'll never hear from me again."
Finally, he stopped and took a breath, swallowing the uncomfortable dryness in his throat while watching Patten warily, his gun still targeted at the giant. Yes, this was a good idea. Things would be fine. It wasn't how he usually did things, threatening and intimidating people to make them do what he wanted - annoying them worked well enough most of the time, but it wasn't going to fly with this guy. Patten only spoke in the language of force and violence. So, he didn't have a choice and it was one of the last cards he had left in his hand. He was going to fight to keep Osono, even if it meant he'd lose everything else.
"Do we have a deal?"
****
As soon as the leather straps were loosened and removed and her feet touched the floor, Gwen was moving as quick and as far from Noel as she possibly could. But she didn't seem to have much to fear from the female Agent who completely ignored her now, in favor of standing and staring at the door in the corner of the room. Gwen could sense that she was dangerous, but even as Noel's fingers, like spider legs, curled around the neglected scalpel and held it in her fist, all of her rage and pain was directed at the couple she thought was currently occupying the closet. By now, things had escalated to a more vocal level behind the wooden door - Good Lord, Karen! Now she was just being obnoxious! He wasn't that good! - and as she listened, Noel's mind swarmed with intense and grisly fantasies of revenge.
Apparently, the original psychic suggestion of Gwen's plan to 'anonymously release her and let Rudy and Stephanie destroy each other while trying to fix the problem' had been tossed out the window. Untying Gwen had invigorated the small, blonde woman, filling her with a sense of abandon and a thrilling freedom, to the point that 'not getting caught letting a target go' no longer mattered. All that filled her mind was Rudy, and she was eager for a confrontation with the lovers, hopefully ending in one or both of their deaths. She didn't even seem to care about dying, so long as she got to spill Rudy's blood. To own him in his final moments...
Shivering at the intensity of that obsession, Gwen retreated from the Agent's mind and left her standing by the cot to continue plotting her murder-suicide vengeance, alone. Making her way to the door, she cautiously peeked through the vertical, rectangular window set in the top left corner, about eye-level and above the doorknob. It was really dark in the hallway and even as hard as she squinted in both directions, Gwen couldn't make out any light-sources illuminating what was beyond the room. Nothing, except the small square of light spilling from the sick bay window onto the floor, now half shadowed with Gwen's invasive silhouette.
Licking her lips and pressing them together in concentration, she psychically reached out to see if there was anyone out there or anyone nearby that she might accidentally run into while trying to make her escape. There wasn't - at least not in this hallway - but she got a very strong feeling that something wasn't right. In a few rooms nearby, Gwen could feel the mental signatures of several Agents flickering like a bunch of candles spread out in a dark, cavernous space. Most of those minds, she couldn't see into - they had efficient, internal walls to block her - but she could still get a living impression off of everybody who was within her current reach. This hallway...it wasn't empty but there was no one out there. At least, no one she could sense, and she wasn't really sure what to make of that or how she should move forward.
Sudden movement from behind caught her eye but by the time she focused her abilities back onto Noel and half-turned to see her, it was too late, her hands grabbing greedily onto Gwen and pulling her from the door. Once she was over the initial shock of the attack, Gwen's body remembered her self-defense classes and she lifted her arm and her bent elbow flew back to strike the Agent in the face. As confident as Gwen was in her ability to protect herself, that rapidly changed when Noel immediately fought back. The female Agent dodged her strikes effortlessly, feinting attacks and her fists rushed past Gwen's defenses much faster than she could move to block them, proving with just a few swift movements who was more skilled between them. And Noel did not have the reservations or caution that Stephanie did for her target, so when the blows landed, they did so with the savage intent to cause pain and crippling injury.
It took less than 4 minutes for Gwen to become disoriented and fall to the floor on her back, deposited there by a dislodging sweep of the Agent's foot. And Noel immediately pounced on her, straddling Gwen mid-chest and high on her abdomen, her skirt riding up to bare her thighs but remaining unconcerned about modesty in her vicious glee. After a small bit of maneuvering, the blonde woman had Gwen's arms positioned under each knee, using her weight to keep them in place. She might have appeared to be a female version of Rudy as far as height went, but there was nothing frail or weak about her, Noel's slender form possessing more than enough muscle and weight to put pressure on the body beneath her and keep it from moving.
Gwen shook and squirmed helplessly, breathing heavily with a bleeding nose and a cut on her lip, blue eyes staring anxiously at the woman above her. Noel cocked her head to the side, honey locks falling prettily over her shoulder, and gave her a sickly sweet smile, once again flashing her neat, cute, chipmunk teeth. "I've thought it over," she politely informed Gwen, with no sign in her lilting accent of being out of breath. "And I think it would hurt Stephanie a lot more if I were to kill you instead. It's a much more permanent punishment, wouldn't you agree?"
Sometime while Gwen had left her alone, Noel's internal walls had returned, standing firmly in place once again, blocking her thoughts and emotions from Gwen's sight. Even so, Gwen realized she was still unfazed about getting caught. Obviously, things had escalated to a 'If I'm going to burn, then I might as well bathe in gasoline' mentality.
She hadn't realized it until now, but the sounds from the closet had changed, and she briefly extended her mental reach in that direction at the same time that she dragged her eyes away from the woman sitting on her. Things had come to their expected conclusion in the small, dark space amidst the supply shelves, the afterglow make-out session completed and clothes being returned to their former positions - albeit with a button or two torn from Todd's uniform in a violent fit of passion. And now, the spontaneous lovers were seeking to leave their impromptu hovel of romance. Except they couldn't. Before she came after Gwen, Noel had shoved a metal chair under the door knob, jamming it shut, with the intent to keep from being interrupted while she finished Gwen off. And both of the closet's occupants were fairly distressed about this fact and made such known with muffled, urgent calls for help and heavy banging on the inside of the door, while continuing to fruitlessly twist the door knob.
Her eyes latched back onto Noel and she tensed when she realized the Agent had brought the scalpel with her, and was sitting with it perched teasingly between her dainty forefingers. Her eyes were not on Gwen but on the thin instrument held suspended before her, dreamily absorbed in the smooth metallic surface, but not distracted or relaxed in the least. Licking her lips nervously, and ignoring the taste of blood, Gwen decided to try to manipulate the woman and possibly get her to let her guard down again. If she could just upset her enough to make her lose control, Gwen could get back inside her head and possibly steer her in a more submissive - and gentle - direction.
"You never confronted your father for what he did," as soon as Gwen started speaking, those pretty, dark orbs had shifted down to her, seemingly surprised by her victim's sudden desire to talk. Trying not to let her fear show, Gwen pressed on, encouraged by the woman's attentive silence. "All these years, holding that pain inside, letting the hate grow. Torturing and abusing men, punishing them for daddy's sin."
Noel quickly recovered from her shock and cleared her throat, arching a condescending eyebrow. "I don't know what--"
"Yes, you do." Uncertainty flickered in those bright eyes in response to the confidence swelling in Gwen's voice. Drawing from Noel's memories when they connected earlier, she attempted to ignore her vulnerable position as her voice grew stronger. "It's a vile thing for a 5 year old to suffer through, made even more monstrous since he continued to do it for 13 years. Taking advantage of you, violating your trust and love for him. Even when you left, you could never escape the agony of his abuse. Always feeling him in the room with you and your lovers. And now you've become the predator, the bloodsucker. Not just of the men you hurt and sleep with, but yourself as well. Taking daddy's place as the abuser of that little girl."
Gwen didn't need to see into the woman's head to know that her words were having an effect. Her brown eyes had a glassy shine to them now, fixated on Gwen, and her pitiful expression strongly resembling a fragile and lost child. And she paused, psychically probing at Noel's mind as she felt a sudden weakening in resistance, like attempting to peel a stubborn sticker, digging at a loose edge with her fingernails. Just a little more...
"He may have twisted and corrupted your love, but you're not unlovable. You've survived and you're strong; you can still heal. And Rudy could still love you, if you let him. If you finally made peace with what happened."
Then it was gone, the blocks slamming back into place and those shining eyes instantly lost their helpless and despairing expression. "Silly girl," Noel murmured, smiling in a detached way, one eye blinking a second faster than the other. "It's 28 years too late for me. I'm afraid I'm beyond fixing. As for Rudolph, he could never love me. He has no space in his heart for anybody but himself."
Gwen grew cold when the scalpel took center stage again, and she searched for something else she might be able to goad the Agent with to keep Noel from killing her. And she internally berated herself for how much she'd miscalculated things. Shit! I almost had her!
"Since you're so interested in my relationship with Quin, I suppose I could teach you a little more about it before you die," she offered breezily, regaining the threatening posture in her skinny form. With the grace and attitude of a sadistic child, she brought the scalpel down to touch flesh, Gwen's whole body going rigid beneath the Agent's weight. Gently, the cool metal of the surgical knife trailed across her cheek, over her chin and down her neck, following the carotid artery down to her collar bone. It wasn't cutting her - yet - but Gwen could feel it's pointed tip lightly dragging over her skin, and she tried not to move, whimpering softly as her heart pulsed a harsh and erratic beat.
"Rudy always loves this game..." Noel said in a soft whisper, her eyes no longer seeing Gwen but looking through her.
((Too big! Cont. below))
Last edited by TimeOfTheEye on Sat May 07, 2011 10:44 am; edited 3 times in total
Guest- Guest
Re: The Other Kind of Roommate
by Guest Fri May 06, 2011 9:46 pm
((Part 2!!!))
As soon as she stopped touching him and fell silent, things began to rapidly change inside of her. During her little speech, with the help of the Lachesis, the EDP had coated her insides with a thick varnish, dulling every emotion. But now, in the resumed silence and no longer touching his warm body and skin, the internal seal was hardening, every muscle and nerve of her face loosened to the point where she couldn't even feel it anymore. Stephanie didn't have a face; a stone block sat in it's place on the front of her skull. The crushing weight of it would have made her collapse to the ground if every other muscle in her body wasn't tightened rigidly, her limbs and spine turning into steel girders. Her nerves hummed with life, vibrating with a concentrated readiness for action and movement and inside, her emotions or even shades of them were silent, allowing the other, logical parts of her brain to work freely, unhindered by distractions.
When Jason spoke, she stared blankly, waiting for him to say more, instinctively knowing he wasn't finished. Explain, was the level, monotone thought as she watched him with a reserved distance. Even as dead as her emotions currently were, she was still waiting to hear what she'd asked for, expecting him to at least indicate in some way that he understood the plan and was dedicated to it. Dedicated to her. This was Master's plan and it would work. It only made sense. Despite her reluctance to do Benoit's job for him, the two cases were practically inseparable. Alexander was a threat and if Benoit couldn't or wouldn't stop him, then Stephanie and her team would. Simple.
She blinked in a noncommittal manner when he spoke up again, his voice indicating that he was worried she'd get the wrong idea about what he'd said and possibly become upset about what she thought he meant. She didn't and she wasn't. There wasn't any muscle twitch, fleeting glance or nuance in his voice that escaped her rabid attention, so she did not and could not misinterpret his meaning. Now she waited with excruciatingly flawless patience for him to actually tell her what she wanted to hear. Stephanie watched as he thought things through silently, working the different pieces together, little muscles in his brow and around his mouth twitching and flexing as different thoughts and ideas passed through and were examined. Saw the concern in his eyes as he looked her over. So, she already anticipated what he was going to say before the words actually came from his mouth.
He was being foolish. A part of her that had gotten used to her emotions, expected to feel relieved and even adoringly excited about his choice. That same part expected to be angry that he would dare disobey her AND the Master, when she'd clearly detailed to him all of the risks involved. But those useless feelings never came up and thus she was not distracted by their influence on her decisions. Like a calculator balancing an equation, she went over the different options and how she should proceed.
He wasn't coming with her. She'd meant everything she'd said to him - even the more emotional parts. She could not trust Benoit and Jason was the only one available with all of the necessary skills. Alexander had gotten in the way before and had been traveling with her target over a span of 2-3 days. With Gwen's powers, and the life-threatening situation, it was plenty of time for the two to gain emotional and psychological attachments.
Briefly, she calculated the probability of Alexander following her to Elmira once he discovered Gwen's whereabouts. There was a big enough risk - especially if he lived through the ambush AND had his original body back, forcing them to deal with 2 men - that she decided it wasn't worth it to depend on the possibility of Alexander disappearing into the woodwork again once he and the guest were separated. Once they split and their power was divided, it might be easy to eliminate first one and then the other. But it might not as well - if Alexander had been living with the ex-Agent in his head this whole time, he might have learned a thing or two to help himself stay alive and the two might be stronger working together. The easiest and most vulnerable time to get rid of both men was during or immediately after the reverse transfer. Simple.
This was a good plan and she wasn't going to change her mind. However, she could see very clearly, through the waves of emotion on his face, that trying to convince him further would only waste time and breath - and since he seemed to be responding negatively to her EDP shroud, it might even make things worse if she tried. She could directly deny any romantic attachments to him, wounding him intentionally so that he'd return to acting professionally and obey her without question. But it was unpredictable how he would react to that once she was gone, and what he might do in his anger if he then felt betrayed and cheated.
Stephanie wanted to believe, in such a situation, that he'd remember himself and his duties, his record and his reputation, and do his best to finish the mission and get it over with. But he wasn't acting rationally at the moment, and the current state of his record and reputation might make him think that it was unsalvageable and increase his chances of sabotaging the case out of spite. And even though she could not feel anything right now, she knew she did really like him. Even if he did his job right and everything turned out as planned, such a course of action would taint any relationship they might want to have after the dust finally settled.
She understood, even without him explaining, why he said he was coming with her. Earlier, in an overwhelming burst of emotion, she'd forced him to promise to stay with her, erroneously thinking that he was the glue that held her together. Which she could see now, wasn't true. She was fine now. And she would be fine. Her mind had never felt more clear and focused and her body felt like a volatile weapon. She knew what she needed to do and she had a direct path pointing her towards her goals. The Lachesis played a big part in her current state of mind, but she had plenty of it left to ensure she could keep going right up until the transfer. And there was always the third vial after that...
She also knew he was concerned about the long-term effects the drugs might have on her, and that he felt obligated to look after her. There were some risks with depending on the drug, but she knew her limits and she could handle this by herself. She was a grown woman.
Stephanie could see clearly his devotion to her and the case and on the one hand it was admirable, but on the other, she knew it wasn't his job that he was thinking of. And that was completely her fault for not taking control of herself earlier. If he confronted Master and stood up to him, there was the possibility that the A-1 would get angry and take even more from him for the offense--
He was turning away from her now. For a long moment, he held her gaze and from the look in his eyes, she could see what he was going to do. His suit. Master had clearly drawn the line for her when she'd asked, on her partner's behalf, to let him keep it. And she already knew Jason was willing to give it up for her - because he'd said so himself. There had been a time when she would have selfishly demanded that he go through the pain of withdrawal just so she could keep him with her. But she'd gone past that point when they'd arrived at Charlton and she saw how much it would hurt him. She couldn't let him do that...
When he spoke to her again, she felt nothing in response to his words, and her eyes zeroed in on and analyzed his posture and movements as he righted himself and headed down the hall. He was already hurting again and he hadn't even talked to Master yet. If he stayed here, any deals he made with Master, in regards to the suit, would be void - he wouldn't need to take it off if he didn't come with her, no matter what he'd say or promises he'd make to Master now. Simple.
She considered chasing after him to get one last word in and try to appeal to him or assert her dominance over him. But giving Master his suit was something he felt he needed to do despite the plan and her orders. More irrationality. She didn't want to try and reason with him when he was like this. It would be better for him and for her if she left without him, without saying anything. She'd already said everything she needed and wanted him to know, and everything was laid out clearly for him - the case, the plan, her feelings towards him. Once she was gone, he'd be forced to return to the last words she'd spoken to him. He would understand then and he would not be hurt as much by it. It wasn't a rejection so much as it was a mute disagreement.
Stephanie looked at Gary finally, who she'd seen fit to ignore until now, and instantly returned to doing so when Madeline's shrill voice suddenly rang out through the hallway. Stephanie looked in her direction and blinked apathetically at the other Agent. We? Madeline was coming with them? ...Why?
She expected to feel overjoyed and excited about the A-2's attention, or at the very least curious, nervous and paranoid about it, but there was nothing inside of her except cold compliance. She did briefly consider the possibility that Madeline intended to benefit in some way by accompanying them or out of protectiveness towards Benoit, seeking retribution through sabotage. But she remained unworried. There was always a very logical solution and reaction to every situation. Madeline would not get between her and Gwen, no matter what the dark-haired woman thought she was doing or was planning. And high or low rank, Stephanie had no malice or compunctions about eliminating all and any threats. Things were simple. Very, very simple.
Gwen's screams were stifled by the hand clamped tightly over her mouth, Noel's palm absorbing the sound and draining the strength out of the fear and anguish in her voice. Noel's eyes shined bright with a child-like glee, voraciously soaking in every shade of panic that she was causing within her victim, wielding the scalpel with a practiced ease. Todd and Karen had fallen silent, at some point becoming aware of something maleficent occurring on the other side of the door and realizing that the closet represented a cage that they'd been temporarily shut into.
There was a cut in the tiny pink shirt that Rudy had bought for her, the split extending down to separate the "i" and the "r" in the word "Flirt" printed on the front of it. The slice opened like a "v", baring her collar bone and upper chest, smooth skin rising and falling rapidly as Gwen's lungs kept up a panicked pace. She struggled, but Noel's thighs hugged her in a vice grip, and her knees crushed Gwen's arms into the floor, acting almost like a tourniquet and numbing the limbs. Gwen shook and sobbed helplessly against her gag, reaching out desperately for the comfort of Xander's protective signature in one last dash of hope that he was somehow close enough to save her.
She didn't find him, but she immediately stiffened, eyes going wide and her voice silenced when her psychic reach had touched upon someone else she knew. Like a hole in the universe consuming everything in it's path and moving steadily towards them, the familiar static became audible inside her head. Gwen's attention shot back to Noel and a muffled scream burst from her throat, as the scalpel finally bit into her skin. The psychotic, girlish woman giggled above her, drawing a thin line in Gwen's chest, as if she were dissecting a frog, or carving letters into her flesh. A bit of the female Agent's mind became visible then, although her thoughts had been reduced to primitive and vicious torture fantasies - some of which, she'd actually tried on people before.
And when the pain came again as Noel started to cut another bloody line near the other, Gwen couldn't help but feel relieved when the woman's twisted thoughts disappeared from her sight within the consuming cloud of static. When the door opened, Noel peered over her shoulder and a jolt of surprise ran through her body as she gaped at the woman standing there...and Gwen stared too. The Agent who had engaged her in her apartment building no longer existed - tall, with smooth curves and flawless edges, richly sophisticated and hauntingly robotic - Stephanie had completely transformed since the last time Gwen saw her. Of course, there was the hair-style and her clothes were different, but her body now possessed a pathological rigidity and the color of her skin had been drained of that healthy golden color. But the biggest changes were in her face and her eyes, the flesh clinging to her skull and petrified, her eyes overwhelming her features with dramatic green color and filled with an aching misery that Gwen could see very clearly through the mask.
Why hadn't anybody removed her from her position? They HAD to see that something was wrong with her even if they weren't aware of the changes she'd gone through. Or they were possibly ignoring it on purpose? Allowing her to keep going for as long as she could before the pressure broke her and then carelessly sweeping her out of the way for someone new to take her place. What was wrong with these people?
"March..." Noel breathed, shaken from her surprise from seeing the woman that she'd thought was locked in the closet now suddenly appearing on the other side of the room. As soon as she'd entered the room - followed by an odd, portly fellow and another woman who's face was dominated by a constant scowl - Stephanie's eyes had latched onto Gwen, staring with a deep, apathetic emptiness. Now, she turned her gaze to Noel, who had dropped the scalpel onto the floor beside her leg, blood painting the blade. Swift and silent, her face a hollow, expressionless mask, she crossed the room and grabbed Noel by her hair, dragging her off of Gwen. Even though she was free and terrified, Gwen merely sat up and quickly scooted back up against the cabinet behind her, spellbound and staring.
Noel was held firmly on her knees, her honey locks twisted around Stephanie's fingers, and she was watching with a polished indifference as the smaller woman began to babble and cry. "Please, please, please, Stephanie, just wait! ...I can explain what happened!"
"I already know what happened," she said in extreme, lifeless boredom. "You let your guard down, allowing my target to fool you by using her powers, and then, for whatever reason, you had an emotional fit and decided to torture and kill Gwendolyn Stewart."
Noel's hands were lightly resting on Stephanie's wrist, frozen in their protest, her brow contorting in despair and her mouth bobbing silently as she tried to think of something else she could say to defend herself.
"Your weakness is a detriment to the Agency and must be purged," she intoned with a severe finality. "And you should have known better than to touch something that belongs to me."
And then Stephanie moved, her hand striking out and retreating back again, quicker than Gwen's eyes could follow the agile movement. It took a few minutes for Gwen to realize what happened, with the bit of blood painting Stephanie's fingers, and bright red flowing over Noel's white blouse from the hole in her neck, drenching the right side of her body in a pulsing fountain of gore. Static prevented Gwen from seeing anything inside Noel's head, but she knew the Agent was dead as Stephanie released her and gave her a small push to the side, gracefully stepping over the lifeless body and approaching her target.
Gwen tried to give Stephanie a fearless look, but after watching the woman kill someone so effortlessly, she actually had the urge to cry instead. The Agent came to stand in front of her and reached onto the counter above Gwen's head, her attention drawn to something else momentarily. She took that moment to glance at the man and woman who'd accompanied Stephanie - the chubby fellow looking excited or possibly anxious and the dark haired woman...just looking really, really unpleasant. Reaching forward to probe into their minds, Gwen hit nothing but the static that blared from Stephanie's head, and it was the same when she tried to check on Karen and Todd again. Reaching beyond them and beyond the room, the cloud of crackling noise never ended, no matter how far she went; as if the world outside and all the people in it had vanished.
Swallowing thickly and realizing how much trouble she was in, Gwen turned her blue eyes back up to Stephanie, who was just finishing cleaning her hands with a sanitized towelette. Gwen flinched a little as the Agent smoothly crouched down in front of her, using another moistened cloth to wipe up the blood from Gwen's face and chest - even as dead and intense as she seemed right now, she was incredibly gentle and methodical.
After a bandage was applied and neatly taped in place on Gwen's cuts, Stephanie stood and said, "Since it is obvious that you've grown stronger - Noel was an old companion of mine and a strong Agent - and you seem to have no reservations about using your powers to try to escape, I will not insult your intelligence by asking you to behave. And you will not undermine my authority by entertaining the hope of survival. So, let's eliminate the bullshit right away, alright?"
Static roared inside her head, feeling like someone stabbed a needle into the back of her neck and into the base of her skull. Pain flared up along her spine and the back of her head, blinding her and a shuddering gasp exploded from her throat. Gwen sat on the floor, breathing heavily and weakly touched a hand to the back of her neck, trying to ease the still buzzing nerves while she looked up into the death-like face of her tormentor. The pain receded somewhat, leaving her feeling sore in an internal way, but now the noise had almost become something physical - like a small creature crawling uncomfortably behind her eyeballs, making her blink rapidly and squint at the sensation. The awful static crinkled and crackled loudly, continuing to emanate in pulsing waves from Stephanie's mind, while green eyes stared blankly down at her.
"I have you now... and we're going to stay together...forever," Stephanie said in a voice that made Gwen shiver. Then, like a chainsaw being inserted into her frontal lobe, another violent burst of static filled her mind. Her scream echoed through the corridor, high and loud, but it died down in seconds once the pain retreated, leaving her with a numbing ache in her head. Gwen did not fight as Stephanie pulled her up to stand, requiring all of her concentration not to throw-up or pass-out.
"Alright, let's go," Gwen heard the Agent say through the fog and she had the vague sense of walking with Stephanie dragging her by her upper arm. But other than the feeling of moving and a distant pressure of the ground under her feet, Gwen was almost completely disconnected from the rest of her body, unable to see and unable to move without assistance. And still, the static clung like a humming blanket over her brain.
As soon as she stopped touching him and fell silent, things began to rapidly change inside of her. During her little speech, with the help of the Lachesis, the EDP had coated her insides with a thick varnish, dulling every emotion. But now, in the resumed silence and no longer touching his warm body and skin, the internal seal was hardening, every muscle and nerve of her face loosened to the point where she couldn't even feel it anymore. Stephanie didn't have a face; a stone block sat in it's place on the front of her skull. The crushing weight of it would have made her collapse to the ground if every other muscle in her body wasn't tightened rigidly, her limbs and spine turning into steel girders. Her nerves hummed with life, vibrating with a concentrated readiness for action and movement and inside, her emotions or even shades of them were silent, allowing the other, logical parts of her brain to work freely, unhindered by distractions.
When Jason spoke, she stared blankly, waiting for him to say more, instinctively knowing he wasn't finished. Explain, was the level, monotone thought as she watched him with a reserved distance. Even as dead as her emotions currently were, she was still waiting to hear what she'd asked for, expecting him to at least indicate in some way that he understood the plan and was dedicated to it. Dedicated to her. This was Master's plan and it would work. It only made sense. Despite her reluctance to do Benoit's job for him, the two cases were practically inseparable. Alexander was a threat and if Benoit couldn't or wouldn't stop him, then Stephanie and her team would. Simple.
She blinked in a noncommittal manner when he spoke up again, his voice indicating that he was worried she'd get the wrong idea about what he'd said and possibly become upset about what she thought he meant. She didn't and she wasn't. There wasn't any muscle twitch, fleeting glance or nuance in his voice that escaped her rabid attention, so she did not and could not misinterpret his meaning. Now she waited with excruciatingly flawless patience for him to actually tell her what she wanted to hear. Stephanie watched as he thought things through silently, working the different pieces together, little muscles in his brow and around his mouth twitching and flexing as different thoughts and ideas passed through and were examined. Saw the concern in his eyes as he looked her over. So, she already anticipated what he was going to say before the words actually came from his mouth.
He was being foolish. A part of her that had gotten used to her emotions, expected to feel relieved and even adoringly excited about his choice. That same part expected to be angry that he would dare disobey her AND the Master, when she'd clearly detailed to him all of the risks involved. But those useless feelings never came up and thus she was not distracted by their influence on her decisions. Like a calculator balancing an equation, she went over the different options and how she should proceed.
He wasn't coming with her. She'd meant everything she'd said to him - even the more emotional parts. She could not trust Benoit and Jason was the only one available with all of the necessary skills. Alexander had gotten in the way before and had been traveling with her target over a span of 2-3 days. With Gwen's powers, and the life-threatening situation, it was plenty of time for the two to gain emotional and psychological attachments.
Briefly, she calculated the probability of Alexander following her to Elmira once he discovered Gwen's whereabouts. There was a big enough risk - especially if he lived through the ambush AND had his original body back, forcing them to deal with 2 men - that she decided it wasn't worth it to depend on the possibility of Alexander disappearing into the woodwork again once he and the guest were separated. Once they split and their power was divided, it might be easy to eliminate first one and then the other. But it might not as well - if Alexander had been living with the ex-Agent in his head this whole time, he might have learned a thing or two to help himself stay alive and the two might be stronger working together. The easiest and most vulnerable time to get rid of both men was during or immediately after the reverse transfer. Simple.
This was a good plan and she wasn't going to change her mind. However, she could see very clearly, through the waves of emotion on his face, that trying to convince him further would only waste time and breath - and since he seemed to be responding negatively to her EDP shroud, it might even make things worse if she tried. She could directly deny any romantic attachments to him, wounding him intentionally so that he'd return to acting professionally and obey her without question. But it was unpredictable how he would react to that once she was gone, and what he might do in his anger if he then felt betrayed and cheated.
Stephanie wanted to believe, in such a situation, that he'd remember himself and his duties, his record and his reputation, and do his best to finish the mission and get it over with. But he wasn't acting rationally at the moment, and the current state of his record and reputation might make him think that it was unsalvageable and increase his chances of sabotaging the case out of spite. And even though she could not feel anything right now, she knew she did really like him. Even if he did his job right and everything turned out as planned, such a course of action would taint any relationship they might want to have after the dust finally settled.
She understood, even without him explaining, why he said he was coming with her. Earlier, in an overwhelming burst of emotion, she'd forced him to promise to stay with her, erroneously thinking that he was the glue that held her together. Which she could see now, wasn't true. She was fine now. And she would be fine. Her mind had never felt more clear and focused and her body felt like a volatile weapon. She knew what she needed to do and she had a direct path pointing her towards her goals. The Lachesis played a big part in her current state of mind, but she had plenty of it left to ensure she could keep going right up until the transfer. And there was always the third vial after that...
She also knew he was concerned about the long-term effects the drugs might have on her, and that he felt obligated to look after her. There were some risks with depending on the drug, but she knew her limits and she could handle this by herself. She was a grown woman.
Stephanie could see clearly his devotion to her and the case and on the one hand it was admirable, but on the other, she knew it wasn't his job that he was thinking of. And that was completely her fault for not taking control of herself earlier. If he confronted Master and stood up to him, there was the possibility that the A-1 would get angry and take even more from him for the offense--
He was turning away from her now. For a long moment, he held her gaze and from the look in his eyes, she could see what he was going to do. His suit. Master had clearly drawn the line for her when she'd asked, on her partner's behalf, to let him keep it. And she already knew Jason was willing to give it up for her - because he'd said so himself. There had been a time when she would have selfishly demanded that he go through the pain of withdrawal just so she could keep him with her. But she'd gone past that point when they'd arrived at Charlton and she saw how much it would hurt him. She couldn't let him do that...
When he spoke to her again, she felt nothing in response to his words, and her eyes zeroed in on and analyzed his posture and movements as he righted himself and headed down the hall. He was already hurting again and he hadn't even talked to Master yet. If he stayed here, any deals he made with Master, in regards to the suit, would be void - he wouldn't need to take it off if he didn't come with her, no matter what he'd say or promises he'd make to Master now. Simple.
She considered chasing after him to get one last word in and try to appeal to him or assert her dominance over him. But giving Master his suit was something he felt he needed to do despite the plan and her orders. More irrationality. She didn't want to try and reason with him when he was like this. It would be better for him and for her if she left without him, without saying anything. She'd already said everything she needed and wanted him to know, and everything was laid out clearly for him - the case, the plan, her feelings towards him. Once she was gone, he'd be forced to return to the last words she'd spoken to him. He would understand then and he would not be hurt as much by it. It wasn't a rejection so much as it was a mute disagreement.
Stephanie looked at Gary finally, who she'd seen fit to ignore until now, and instantly returned to doing so when Madeline's shrill voice suddenly rang out through the hallway. Stephanie looked in her direction and blinked apathetically at the other Agent. We? Madeline was coming with them? ...Why?
She expected to feel overjoyed and excited about the A-2's attention, or at the very least curious, nervous and paranoid about it, but there was nothing inside of her except cold compliance. She did briefly consider the possibility that Madeline intended to benefit in some way by accompanying them or out of protectiveness towards Benoit, seeking retribution through sabotage. But she remained unworried. There was always a very logical solution and reaction to every situation. Madeline would not get between her and Gwen, no matter what the dark-haired woman thought she was doing or was planning. And high or low rank, Stephanie had no malice or compunctions about eliminating all and any threats. Things were simple. Very, very simple.
****
Gwen's screams were stifled by the hand clamped tightly over her mouth, Noel's palm absorbing the sound and draining the strength out of the fear and anguish in her voice. Noel's eyes shined bright with a child-like glee, voraciously soaking in every shade of panic that she was causing within her victim, wielding the scalpel with a practiced ease. Todd and Karen had fallen silent, at some point becoming aware of something maleficent occurring on the other side of the door and realizing that the closet represented a cage that they'd been temporarily shut into.
There was a cut in the tiny pink shirt that Rudy had bought for her, the split extending down to separate the "i" and the "r" in the word "Flirt" printed on the front of it. The slice opened like a "v", baring her collar bone and upper chest, smooth skin rising and falling rapidly as Gwen's lungs kept up a panicked pace. She struggled, but Noel's thighs hugged her in a vice grip, and her knees crushed Gwen's arms into the floor, acting almost like a tourniquet and numbing the limbs. Gwen shook and sobbed helplessly against her gag, reaching out desperately for the comfort of Xander's protective signature in one last dash of hope that he was somehow close enough to save her.
She didn't find him, but she immediately stiffened, eyes going wide and her voice silenced when her psychic reach had touched upon someone else she knew. Like a hole in the universe consuming everything in it's path and moving steadily towards them, the familiar static became audible inside her head. Gwen's attention shot back to Noel and a muffled scream burst from her throat, as the scalpel finally bit into her skin. The psychotic, girlish woman giggled above her, drawing a thin line in Gwen's chest, as if she were dissecting a frog, or carving letters into her flesh. A bit of the female Agent's mind became visible then, although her thoughts had been reduced to primitive and vicious torture fantasies - some of which, she'd actually tried on people before.
And when the pain came again as Noel started to cut another bloody line near the other, Gwen couldn't help but feel relieved when the woman's twisted thoughts disappeared from her sight within the consuming cloud of static. When the door opened, Noel peered over her shoulder and a jolt of surprise ran through her body as she gaped at the woman standing there...and Gwen stared too. The Agent who had engaged her in her apartment building no longer existed - tall, with smooth curves and flawless edges, richly sophisticated and hauntingly robotic - Stephanie had completely transformed since the last time Gwen saw her. Of course, there was the hair-style and her clothes were different, but her body now possessed a pathological rigidity and the color of her skin had been drained of that healthy golden color. But the biggest changes were in her face and her eyes, the flesh clinging to her skull and petrified, her eyes overwhelming her features with dramatic green color and filled with an aching misery that Gwen could see very clearly through the mask.
Why hadn't anybody removed her from her position? They HAD to see that something was wrong with her even if they weren't aware of the changes she'd gone through. Or they were possibly ignoring it on purpose? Allowing her to keep going for as long as she could before the pressure broke her and then carelessly sweeping her out of the way for someone new to take her place. What was wrong with these people?
"March..." Noel breathed, shaken from her surprise from seeing the woman that she'd thought was locked in the closet now suddenly appearing on the other side of the room. As soon as she'd entered the room - followed by an odd, portly fellow and another woman who's face was dominated by a constant scowl - Stephanie's eyes had latched onto Gwen, staring with a deep, apathetic emptiness. Now, she turned her gaze to Noel, who had dropped the scalpel onto the floor beside her leg, blood painting the blade. Swift and silent, her face a hollow, expressionless mask, she crossed the room and grabbed Noel by her hair, dragging her off of Gwen. Even though she was free and terrified, Gwen merely sat up and quickly scooted back up against the cabinet behind her, spellbound and staring.
Noel was held firmly on her knees, her honey locks twisted around Stephanie's fingers, and she was watching with a polished indifference as the smaller woman began to babble and cry. "Please, please, please, Stephanie, just wait! ...I can explain what happened!"
"I already know what happened," she said in extreme, lifeless boredom. "You let your guard down, allowing my target to fool you by using her powers, and then, for whatever reason, you had an emotional fit and decided to torture and kill Gwendolyn Stewart."
Noel's hands were lightly resting on Stephanie's wrist, frozen in their protest, her brow contorting in despair and her mouth bobbing silently as she tried to think of something else she could say to defend herself.
"Your weakness is a detriment to the Agency and must be purged," she intoned with a severe finality. "And you should have known better than to touch something that belongs to me."
And then Stephanie moved, her hand striking out and retreating back again, quicker than Gwen's eyes could follow the agile movement. It took a few minutes for Gwen to realize what happened, with the bit of blood painting Stephanie's fingers, and bright red flowing over Noel's white blouse from the hole in her neck, drenching the right side of her body in a pulsing fountain of gore. Static prevented Gwen from seeing anything inside Noel's head, but she knew the Agent was dead as Stephanie released her and gave her a small push to the side, gracefully stepping over the lifeless body and approaching her target.
Gwen tried to give Stephanie a fearless look, but after watching the woman kill someone so effortlessly, she actually had the urge to cry instead. The Agent came to stand in front of her and reached onto the counter above Gwen's head, her attention drawn to something else momentarily. She took that moment to glance at the man and woman who'd accompanied Stephanie - the chubby fellow looking excited or possibly anxious and the dark haired woman...just looking really, really unpleasant. Reaching forward to probe into their minds, Gwen hit nothing but the static that blared from Stephanie's head, and it was the same when she tried to check on Karen and Todd again. Reaching beyond them and beyond the room, the cloud of crackling noise never ended, no matter how far she went; as if the world outside and all the people in it had vanished.
Swallowing thickly and realizing how much trouble she was in, Gwen turned her blue eyes back up to Stephanie, who was just finishing cleaning her hands with a sanitized towelette. Gwen flinched a little as the Agent smoothly crouched down in front of her, using another moistened cloth to wipe up the blood from Gwen's face and chest - even as dead and intense as she seemed right now, she was incredibly gentle and methodical.
After a bandage was applied and neatly taped in place on Gwen's cuts, Stephanie stood and said, "Since it is obvious that you've grown stronger - Noel was an old companion of mine and a strong Agent - and you seem to have no reservations about using your powers to try to escape, I will not insult your intelligence by asking you to behave. And you will not undermine my authority by entertaining the hope of survival. So, let's eliminate the bullshit right away, alright?"
Static roared inside her head, feeling like someone stabbed a needle into the back of her neck and into the base of her skull. Pain flared up along her spine and the back of her head, blinding her and a shuddering gasp exploded from her throat. Gwen sat on the floor, breathing heavily and weakly touched a hand to the back of her neck, trying to ease the still buzzing nerves while she looked up into the death-like face of her tormentor. The pain receded somewhat, leaving her feeling sore in an internal way, but now the noise had almost become something physical - like a small creature crawling uncomfortably behind her eyeballs, making her blink rapidly and squint at the sensation. The awful static crinkled and crackled loudly, continuing to emanate in pulsing waves from Stephanie's mind, while green eyes stared blankly down at her.
"I have you now... and we're going to stay together...forever," Stephanie said in a voice that made Gwen shiver. Then, like a chainsaw being inserted into her frontal lobe, another violent burst of static filled her mind. Her scream echoed through the corridor, high and loud, but it died down in seconds once the pain retreated, leaving her with a numbing ache in her head. Gwen did not fight as Stephanie pulled her up to stand, requiring all of her concentration not to throw-up or pass-out.
"Alright, let's go," Gwen heard the Agent say through the fog and she had the vague sense of walking with Stephanie dragging her by her upper arm. But other than the feeling of moving and a distant pressure of the ground under her feet, Gwen was almost completely disconnected from the rest of her body, unable to see and unable to move without assistance. And still, the static clung like a humming blanket over her brain.
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