Fiction: Trust part 2

[kethni]

Name: Trust

Rating: R for violence and strong language

Sweet Charity Auction fic forperdiccas who wanted: ‘a gen-ish fic that focuses on Matt and Audrey working a case together. The main theme is that it's early days of them as partners and despite everything with Molly, Audrey's still not sure she really believes Matt's whole telepathy thing. Whatever happens on this case is the turning point where she realises she can trust him.’

Part Two

 

 

 

 

We drive into town for breakfast. Find some kitschy little diner where the matronly waitress calls me ‘honey’ and him ‘sugar’.

“So,” Parkman says, not looking at me as he attacks his eggs.

“So?”

“You going to tell me about the others?”

“Other what?” I ask.

“Other murders,” he says, finally looking up. “Knock it off Audrey, I might not be that bright but I’m not a complete idiot. They didn’t decide to let me out on the spur of the moment. This isn’t the first murder down to this perp is it?”

“No,” I say.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

“I just did,” I say.

He shakes his head. “Is it uncomfortable with that bug wedged up your butt?”

“You should be the expert at having things wedged up your butt,” I retort, realising too late how that sounds.

Parkman stares at me, forkful of food halfway to his mouth. “Nice, Audrey.” He dumps the fork on the plate and leans back.

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

“I had no idea you were such a renaissance bigot,” he says sharply.

I shake my head at him. “I don’t know where you get the idea I’m a bigot from.”

“You gave it me. Phrases like ‘you people’ tend to have a certain tone you know.”

“That again?” I ask.

“Yeah that again, I lost people too,” he says. “You don’t a monopoly on grieving.”

“One of... someone like you destroyed New York,” I hiss. “Another one killed dozens of people across the country. One is apparently passing through Texas and the surrounding areas barbequing people. Forgive me for being a little testy.”

“For fuck’s sake Audrey, you might as well talk about the amount of red haired murderers, or blue-eyed murderers, or left-handed ones. It’s an arbitrary distinction and you know it.”

“I don’t like being scared, Parkman and people who can blow shit up, or cut open people’s heads, or freeze them alive, they scare me. So don’t yank my chain.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t half talk some rubbish. What about rapists and murderers and gang bangers? They’re not ‘special’, don’t they scare you? Statistically for every Sylar there’s a Ted Bundy, John Wayne Gacy, and a dozen other ‘normal’ serial killers. Doesn’t that scare you?”

“No, it’s not the same,” I says firmly.

“Why not?”

Because they can’t read my mind and see... “Because it’s not.”

“Are you scared of me?” he asks after a couple of beats.

“Yeah, Parkman. You’re so damn terrifying,” I sneer.

“I’m the first special you actually met,” he points out.

“As far as you know.”

He smiles at me suddenly. “Why, did you lie about me being your first?”

It’s an out from the unpleasant back and forth we’re mired in. “A girl has to have her secrets.”

“Well if I see any ‘girls’ I’ll be sure and keep that in mind,” he says archly. “But you’re going to tell me about the other murders.”

“Am I really?” I ask.

“Yeah, or I’m back to the facility.”

I shuffle in my seat. “There was an escape apparently. From the facility.”

Parkman blinks at me. “I didn’t hear about that.”

“It was last week. Ten prisoners, ones Primatech had been keeping so you can imagine how dangerous they are,” I say with a shrug.

“So you know who this is?” he asks.

“No, not a clue. Primatech did not play nicely, they destroyed a lot of the records,” I explain. “Those of you brought in were documented, those already there were less than cooperative.”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“When I was sure I could trust you.”

“So, never then?” he asks lightly. “So what do we do now?”

I waved a hand at the waitress for the bill. “Go to the regional office and collate what we’ve got.”

 

Parkman rolls up his shirt sleeves and runs his fingers through his hair. “Do we even know what abilities these charmers have?”

“Until you noticed Tina-Marie had been cooked we didn’t even know one could microwave people,” I say bitterly. “Don’t look at me like that Parkman, I’ve been on this case exactly three days. They only just brought me off suspension.”

“Because of me?”

“The suspension or the bringing back? Because both, I guess.”

He walks over to the map on the wall and drums his fingers on it. “It doesn’t seem like they’ve stuck together. You’ve got a series of robberies heading here,” his finger traces a route out toward New Mexico, “a series of murders going here,” he taps a finger on Oklahoma, “and our friend or friends trailing complete destruction right here. Have we decided if it’s one or more perps?”

“Well, the credit card of Henry Mayville was used four days ago and the witness described a white male in his late twenties or early thirties. But Philip Harris’s credit card was used by a teenage boy. Other sightings suggest two perps, both white males. One in his late twenties to early thirties, one much younger,” I say with a shrug. “So I guess that’s two, at a minimum.”

“Who’s going after the other escaped prisoners?”

“Haven’t we got enough to worry about?” I ask.

“Just asking,” he says mildly.

“That trick, leaving the car and the body where they’d attract attention, that’s new,” I say. “Why do we think that is?”

“Maybe they’re messing with you?” he suggests with a shrug. “Making sure to attract FBI attention.”

“Or a distraction?” I suggest. “We should check if there were any robberies around the same time.”

“Or just...” his voice trails off, he looks mildly ill.

“Or just what?” I ask.

He folds his arms and looks at me. “They had Tina-Marie a while before they killed her. They could’ve grabbed someone much nearer if they just wanted a body to pose.”

“I’ll hurry up the forensics and pathology,” I say.

Parkman’s phone rings.

“Still fretting about his calibration is he?” I ask tartly as he walks away.

 

“She wasn’t raped,” I say when he comes back. “They’re still working but they say not raped.”

“What then?” he asks quietly.

“Tortured, the ‘cooking’ was before death, hours before,” I say. He looks like he’s going to be sick. I reach over and pat his hand. “There were other injuries too.”

“Careful Audrey,” he says winking at me as he squeezes my hand. “Your mask is slipping.”

“Fuck you.”

Parkman chews his lower lip. “Okay, they went out of their way to get attention. Do they have enough of it now? Or are they going to try again?”

“Are we going to get our next victim gift-wrapped next time, do you mean?”

He shrugs. “They wanted something, if they got it fine we can concentrate on catching them.”

“If not are they going to try again?” I ask. “We need a profiler.”

“That’d be a fun conversation,” Parkman says dryly. “The psychology of evolved humans who just escaped a secret and formerly illegal detention centre.”

“Okay look, let’s go back to basics. They’ve been on the run a week. What’re they living on? They didn’t take Tina-Marie’s credit cards and the other credit cards are all cancelled.”

“Maybe they didn’t take hers because they couldn’t sell them on or maybe because there’s another male victim we haven’t found yet,” he says. “Although...”

“What?” I ask. “What?”

He taps the desk. “Necklaces, watch, ring. Costume stuff not worth anything.”

“Well that’s really helpful Parkman,” I note.

“Trophies,” he says. “Tina-Marie is missing an anklet, according to her mother. Our perps aren’t robbing and killing for food or transport, it’s for kicks.” He looks at me and shrugs. “Doesn’t help us work out where they are or where they’re going mind you.”

I rub my hair. “Okay, okay. We’ve got sightings of Tina-Marie’s car all across Texas. They got just over the state line and dumped it. Then what? They walked four miles? Flew four miles?”

Parkman clicks his tongue. “There’s a gas station less than a half mile away,” he says, shuffling through the paper on the desk to find the roadmap. “There. If it was me I’d have stopped there and stolen a car.”

“Nobody’s reported a stolen car,” I say doubtfully.

“Has anyone reported a missing person?” he asks.

 

“Holly Hitchcock and Lars Magnuson,” Parkman reads aloud as we drive, squinting and scowling at the report like it’s trying to bite him. “Went out on a date, credit card shows they bought gas at the service station, never made it home.”

“The bureau is going to have my ass in a sling for this,” I say quietly.

“Why? It was before we got here, before anyone had any chance of stopping it.”

“Yeah and it took us twenty four hours to realise!” I punch the steering wheel and he winces.

“Twenty four hours, they had Tina-Marie seventy-two hours before they dumped her,” Parkman says soothingly. “We’re catching up.”

“Don’t comfort me,” I say quietly. “I like being annoyed.”

“Really,” he says too innocently. “I hadn’t noticed.”

 

The service station is a tiny, rundown hovel. The attendant a shrivelled old man who sucks his gums at us and talks only to Parkman, like I’m not fucking worth talking to.

“Yessir, I saw them. Saw Holly and some boy at least. She went to school with my granddaughter did Holly.”

“What was she wearing?” I ask.

He sucks his gums.

“What was she wearing?” Parkman repeats, his temper getting thin.

“Hehehe, little skirt. Short, barely covered her cooch it did.”

“I’m going to check outside,” I say through gritted teeth. “You carry on.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he says loudly and clearly, and this time it’s not aimed at me.

 

There’s a bit of scrub around the back. Tatty, ragged hedges, their branches caught with beer bottles and potato chip packets thrown by passing vehicles. Something red deep in the undergrowth catches my eye. A sneaker, a foot, a jean clad leg.

 

Parkman paces up and down while the forensic team scour the area; cutting back the branches to reach the two bodies entwined in the undergrowth.

“Guess that explains what they’re living on at the moment,” I say.

“What do we do?” he asks. “Leave the cards active and track them?”

I nod and sit back on the trunk of the car. “They’re tracing them right now. If they’ve not been used today they will be tomorrow. They won’t want to wait too long in case the bodies are found.”

They lift the bodies up and stretcher them out. I join Parkman and we watch them being carried past.

“Looks like close quarters GSW to the head,” the forensics team leader announces. “Both of them.”

“Execution style,” Parkman says. “These two we weren’t meant to find.”

“They probably wanted a few days grace to really max out those credit cards,” I say.

Parkman’s phone rings and he glances at the caller ID.

“He must really be worried about that tracker,” I say smirking at him.

“It’s the regional office,” he says giving me an odd look. “I don’t know who you thought it was going to be.” He flips up the phone. “Parkman?”

I’m half turning away when he grabs my arm.

“Where? And how long ago?” he’s looking at me as he talks. Hand still around my arm but not tight, just there. “We’re on our way.”

“A hit on the cards?” I ask.

He nods and lets go of my arm. “They’re in a bank right now making a withdrawal,” he says, moving suddenly for the car. “We can be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Will they still be there?” I ask, having to run after him to keep up.

“The bank’s told them they’re having to wait for clearance, not our idea,” Parkman says, yanking open the car door.

“SWAT team on the way?” I ask, slamming into the car and tugging on my seatbelt.

“We’ll beat them there,” he says as I peel the car away. “It’s down there,” he says, consulting the map. “Hang a right.”

“How can you read a map but struggle with reports?” I ask.

“Different skill,” he says. “I know the words I’m looking for on a map and there’s a lot less of them.”

“I suppose that’s logical,” I allow, putting my foot down and sending the car careering between the on-coming traffic, across the junction, and down the street.

“I only read minds, Audrey! If you crash the car I won’t regenerate!”

“Oh please, you were in a squad car for eleven years, don’t tell me you haven’t had some close calls,” I say, overtaking a truck.

“Not when I was driving!”

I grin at him. “But you’re not driving.”

His phone rings and he scrambles to answer it. “Parkman?”

A cacophony of horns blare ahead as some asshole in a Ford barges out and nearly crashes into a school bus.

“It’s them!” Parkman bellows, almost deafening me. “They’ve left the bank in a green Ford Pinto, that one.” He returns his attention to the phone. “Backup, right now. We’re heading down... Main Street towards Cherry Drive.”

We both jump at the sirens screeching from the other direction. The Pinto tries to turn in the face of a wall of cars coming the other way. Tires whirl, rubber burns, and the car spins. We’re almost at them when the Pinto doors are thrown open and two men emerge. One young and small the other... the other throws out a hand and cars go flying as they’re thrown into the air. Dear god it can’t be.

“Sylar,” Parkman says flatly.

A police cruiser is hurled up, rolling, bouncing towards us. I hit the brakes, the car screams in protest, and the world fills with pain and light and noise.

 

Parkman drags me out of the car. The impact sheared the top clean off but we’re both fine save cuts and bruises.

Cars are on fire, sirens running, people screaming. It looks like hell on earth.

“They went that way,” Parkman says, frowning at me. “Are you up for this?”

“Fuck yeah.”

We run down the road following the bodies and the fires. It leads to a largish brick building with leafy trees, a swing set, and a stream of screaming children pouring out of the gates. A school, they’ve gone into a school.

Parkman sways beside me.

“Thought you weren’t hurt?”

“Not,” he says, rubbing his forehead. “It’s all the kids.”

We lead them to the bottom of the road. Well, Parkman does. I am not a kid person. He is, even with their thoughts battering against him like the raging surf against the tidal wall, he’s a natural with them.

“Where’s our backup?” I ask as he gets off the phone.

He waves a hand back to the main road. “Dead, dying, or injured.”

“They’re holding hostages,” I say. “You know that. They’re holding hostages or this is the only school in the country with no teachers.”

Some grubby, sticky child of indeterminate sex tugs at my pants.

“What?”

“The other man ran away,” it says.

Parkman kneels down. “What other man, sweetheart?”

“The other... the other... the other man, he ran away.”

“What’s your name?” Parkman asks softly.

“Henrietta.”

“How many men were there?”

“Two! Two men!” she says insistently.

“And was it the little man or the big man who ran away?”

She chews her lip; risking instant poisoning. “I think... the big man?”

“Thank you Henrietta,” Parkman says nicely, patting her head. “Now be a good girl and wait over there with the other kids would you?”

“Okay,” she says, toddling away. Parkman absently wipes his hand on his leg.

“There’s your backup,” he says wryly, nodding at something behind me.

A crossing guard, great.

“Hey! You!” I call.

He looks around and then walks over. “Yes?”

“FBI, I need you to look after these kids.”

“Why?” he asks, sounding offended. “What’re you going to do?”

“We’re going to go see exactly where the armed lunatic is holding dozens of people hostage!” I say cheerfully.

“This is a terrible idea,” Matt says, following me around the perimeter.

“Don’t follow me, you ass,” I hiss. “Go around the other way.”

“Oh great plan, Audrey. Not only are we going to tackle a psycho who’s holding people hostage without any backup but we’re going to split up?”

“Quit bellyaching and go.”

 

I see movement through a window. People kneeling down with their hands behind their heads. Wooden walls, ropes hanging down, gymnasium. Can’t see the perp anywhere.

Oh fuck.

“Hehehe,” a voice sniggers behind me. “They got names for people who peer in school windows you know.”

I turn around slowly. The boy is seventeen, eighteen, maybe and fucking ugly. Dressed all in black with a machine gun hanging over his shoulder. His hand is outstretched a strange orange glow warping and flowing there.

“My boyfriend works here, he should’ve been home a few hours ago but...”

“You’re an FBI agent,” he giggles, stepping forward, weird little face lit up happily. “He told me all about you agent Hanson.”

Parkman! Now would be a really good time for you to be reading my mind!

“I can see you’re a bright kid. I’m sure you’re too bright to be involved in this,” I say, nodding at the window. “All we want is Sylar.”

“Yeah, he said you’d say that,” he nods. “Did you see what he did to those cars? Wasn’t it awesome?”

“Is he still here?”

Over his shoulder I can see movement; Parkman getting the teachers and the remaining kids out.

Hang on, Audrey.

I can’t help it. It obviously shows on my face and he spins around, hand raised.

I jump for him as a wave of energy hits the wall. We roll over and over. He’s barely my weight and can’t fight for fuck. I wrench his hands behind his back and cuff them.

“Where’s Sylar?” I demand.

“I don’t k...know.”

Is he crying? He’s crying. This killed a dozen people? I’d be embarrassed to be killed by this snivelling little wretch.

“You’re hurting me.”

I haul him up and kick open the door to the gym. A dozen or so people, including Parkman, are lay on the floor moaning softly.

 

The hospital is still dealing the carnage of the pile up and the fires. They can’t wait to push Parkman and the others out.

“I’m fine,” Parkman says again, pulling on his shirt. “It was uh...” he waves a hand. “Spread out.”

“Diffuse,” I suggest. “You were lucky, a direct hit and you’d have been toast.”

“Literally,” he says dryly. “What about the kid?”

Now it’s finally my turn to roll my eyes. “He’s being taken to the facility in the morning. Little... fink. He keeps saying Sylar’s coming for him.”

Parkman blinks at me. “You think he’s telling the truth?”

“I really hope not,” I admit. “We’re not set up to take down Sylar.”

“Oh, you worked that one out now?” he says, cradling his stomach. “We can find him and then get the specialists to take him out.”

“First we’ve got to find him,” I say.

“What does the kid say, besides fantasies about Sylar coming to rescue him?”

I shrug. “He’s at the regional office awaiting interview.”

Parkman looks at me. “Waiting? For what, an engraved invitation?”

“No you, asshole,” I retort.

 

They’ve got his hands chained behind his back and in some gauntlets. He’s slouched in a chair in the interrogation room looking around vacantly. We’re standing in the observation room watching him through the one way mirror.

“What’s with the gauntlets?” Parkman asks the jailer, a woman called Emma. “They’re only some kind of rubber, they’d melt.”

“Yeah, onto his hands,” I say. “Ouchie.”

Parkman raises his eyebrows. “That’s nasty, your idea, Audrey?”

“Maybe,” I admit with a smile. “The name he’s given us is ‘Luke Campbell’, which checks out. He ran away from home eight weeks ago. We figure he bumped into Sylar somewhere along the way.”

“But Sylar didn’t kill him,” Parkman observes. “Even with an ability like that.”

 

Campbell looks up as we walk into the room, glances at me and studies Parkman: eyes on Parkman’s face and then dropping straight to his crotch.

Like that is it?

“Good evening Luke, I hope they’ve been looking after you,” I say.

“I’m a prisoner of war, I have rights,” he says.

“What? What war?”

“Don’t gimme that, you know about us. You know there’s us and there’s you.” He smirks at me. “You’re obsolete, Agent Hanson, and that scares you.”

“Does that make it easier?” Parkman asks. “Easier to torture and kill innocent people?” He spreads the photographs of the victims over the table.

Luke cranes his neck to get a good look at them and then smiles. “They had things we wanted so we took them.”

“You didn’t have to torture and kill them!” I snarl.

“But it was fun,” he says, sounding slightly confused. “Why do anything if it’s not fun?”

“Is it fun being in here?” Parkman asks, leaning forward belligerently. “Will it be fun when you’re locked up with the really bad people who make you look like the amateur you are?”

Campbell’s about to answer when Parkman’s cell rings. Parkman glances at it and turns it off.

“You should answer that, might be important,” Campbell says.

“Shut up you little worm,” he says aggressively.

“The facility checking your location tracker is still calibrated?” I ask. He nods once.

“What’s your answer Luke, you going to enjoy being locked up with people who make you look like a choir boy?” Parkman demands.

Campbell leans forward as much as the chains will allow. Little pervert is getting off on Parkman’s aggression.

Yeah, what do you think, should I back down? Parkman’s voice asks. Damn it, that freaks me out.

“I’ve spent worse evenings,” Campbell purrs. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

No, he’s keying in to you, amp it up. I’ll back down; splash a little alpha male my way and see how hot under the collar he gets.

“Little boy, they are going to eat you alive,” Parkman says softly, looking right into his eyes.

“Promise?”

“Matt, maybe,” I begin weakly.

“You go get us a couple of coffees, there’s a good girl,” Parkman orders.

Campbell nearly creams his pants right there.

“Okay,” I say nicely. Damn that was harder than I thought it would be.

They have the coffees waiting for me.

“What’s going on?” Emma asks.

“Campbell has a boner for men who push him around,” I say with a shrug. “We figured it’d make a bit of a change to good cop, bad cop.”

“Thought you were going to punch your partner in the face when he told you go and get coffee,” Emma says.

I shrug. “It was my idea. Believe me under normal circumstances any asshole did that to me he’d be breathing through a broken nose.”

“Yeah, he didn’t seem the type to be like that,” she agrees.

“He’s not,” I say picking up the coffees. “He’s from LA.”

“Oh dear god save us,” Emma laughs along with me.

 

Campbell’s got a boner. An actual, real-life, honest to goodness erection and he’s not even trying to hide it.

Audrey help! I’m in way over my head!

I put the coffees on the table and sit back.

“Does she have to be here?” Campbell whines. “Can’t we talk... privately?”

“You want her to go?” Parkman asks.

Campbell nods eagerly. Parkman leans further forward so they’re barely inches apart.

“It doesn’t matter what you want,” he says. “Nobody cares.” He smiles at Campbell. “I don’t care. But if you stop being such a little bitch I might think about it.”

Campbell squirms in his chair. “What do you want me to do?”

“Tell us about Sylar.”

“He’s coming for me!” Campbell says, smiling suddenly. “He said he would and he will.”

“When he was telling you to hold us off so he could escape?” I ask. “When he was using you as a diversion?”

Campbell glares at me sullenly.

“Luke,” Parkman says, surprisingly gently. “Don’t worry; he’s going to come for you.”

“He is.”

“He’s going to come for you because you’re different, you’re worth coming back for.”

Campbell hesitates. “I am?”

“Of course. I can see that,” Parkman says smoothly. For someone ‘in over his head’ he’s doing pretty damn well. “Didn’t he tell you that?”

Campbell shakes his head silently.

“Oh,” Parkman says, managing to sound faintly surprised.

And we wait. Let Campbell stew and wriggle and worry about it.

“Sylar will come for me,” he says eventually, but there’s doubt in his voice now.

“How long have you boys been together?” Parkman asks.

Campbell reddens. “It’s not like that!” He hesitates and licks his lips. “I mean, you’d think that was weird, right?”

“No, not at all,” Parkman says and if I was emotionally disturbed and just plain fucking nuts I might, maybe believe it. “Sylar’s been alone a long time; everyone needs someone to talk to, to share things with. You’re what, seventeen? You live with your mom, your dad bailed. God, I know how that one goes. You have to be strong, to be the man of the house, and sometimes it’s just so tiring. You know?”

Campbell’s nodding earnestly. “Exactly, exactly! You understand like... like Sylar understands.”

“Sometimes you just need someone to talk to.” Parkman holds the coffee up to Campbell’s lips and lets him take a few sips. “Some nights you need someone to hold you when it’s all a bit much. Is that what it’s like, Luke?”

Campbell nods, great fat tears rolling down his face. “Yeah.”

“And even if he’s not that gentle, even if he doesn’t really listen, at least he’s there,” Parkman says softly.

“He’s going to come for me,” Luke blubbers.

“Where will you go?” Parkman asks. “When you leave here?”

“Said... said he’d take me to Hollywood. Always wanted to go.”

Parkman bunches up a fistful of tissues and holds it up to Campbell to blow his nose.

“That’ll be nice. I’m from LA.” Parkman delicately disposes of the dripping tissues into the waste paper bin.

“Yeah?” Campbell asks, looking up and blinking pathetically as him. “Do you know anyone famous?”

“No actors, couple of guys I went to school with are movie writers.”

“Oh wow.”

“Luke,” Parkman says nicely. “I don’t like seeing you this way. We should let Sylar know that you need him. Where are you boys staying?”

That cannot possibly work. If that works I’ll... I have no idea what I’ll do.

Campbell tries to shrug. “We checked out this morning. We hadn’t found anywhere for tonight yet. I’m sorry.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was so close. He would’ve told.

“What about a cell, does he have a number I can call?”

Campbell shakes his head. “No, he doesn’t like them. He says they’ll give you a brain tumour or something.”

 

 

 

Comments

Hopelessly devoted to you...

[perdiccas.livejournal.com]

He shakes his head. “Is it uncomfortable with that bug wedged up your butt?”

“You should be the expert at having things wedged up your butt,” I retort, realising too late how that sounds.
Okay this made me laugh because this is the exact foot in mouth kind of thing that I'm prone to saying. Oops.


“Don’t comfort me,” I say quietly. “I like being annoyed.”

“Really,” he says too innocently. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Ahahaha! Oh, Audrey, he can see right through you even without the power :D

The part with Henrietta = total love. <3

The boy is seventeen, eighteen, maybe and fucking ugly.
BRILLIANT! BECAUSE HE IS!!! Poor Luke. He never makes good first impression. :P

“Did you see what he did to those cars? Wasn’t it awesome?”
There is something so charmingly batshit about the fact that Luke wants Audrey to fangirl Sylar with him while she's trying to arrest him.

Is he crying? He’s crying. This killed a dozen people? I’d be embarrassed to be killed by this snivelling little wretch.
Is it wrong that I wanted to hug Luke here? Probably wrong /slinks off. I like that AUdrey was so UTTERLY repulsed by everything about him. Very IC!

“What’s with the gauntlets?” Parkman asks the jailer, a woman called Emma. “They’re only some kind of rubber, they’d melt.”

“Yeah, onto his hands,” I say. “Ouchie.”
You have a wonderfully sadistic mind, kethni. <3

He spreads the photographs of the victims over the table.

Luke cranes his neck to get a good look at them and then smiles.
*shivers* God Luke, so creepy! So good!

“You go get us a couple of coffees, there’s a good girl,” Parkman orders.

Campbell nearly creams his pants right there.

“Okay,” I say nicely. Damn that was harder than I thought it would be.
Okay, I love this whole take on Luke's psyche/sexual kinks because it's pretty much how I see him too. But this particular snippet about the coffee was golden. I'm replaying it in my head and I can *see* how forced the niceness from Audrey would be. Total teeth gritting as she says "Okay"! HEE! WIN!

Campbell’s got a boner. An actual, real-life, honest to goodness erection and he’s not even trying to hide it.
::dies of happiness::

“How long have you boys been together?” Parkman asks.

Campbell reddens. “It’s not like that!” He hesitates and licks his lips. “I mean, you’d think that was weird, right?”
I love, love, love Luke's reaction here. Like he's testing out the waters; almost as if he doesn't want to admit to liking Sylar like that if alpha male Matt wouldn't approve.

AND OH, BREAK MY HEART FOR THE PSYCHO WHY DON'T YOU! When Luke was so insistant that Sylar would come back for him and then it only took Matt like a second to shake his faith? POOR LUKE!

<3

Re: Hopelessly devoted to you...

[kethni.livejournal.com]

Okay this made me laugh because this is the exact foot in mouth kind of thing that I'm prone to saying. Oops.

Hee! It can be *so* easy to do can't it?

Ahahaha! Oh, Audrey, he can see right through you even without the power :D

In canon I think the characters were working together in close quarters for at least a few weeks. I like the idea of them having a pretty good idea of each other.

Is it wrong that I wanted to hug Luke here? Probably wrong /slinks off.

Heh, he *is* completely crackers and I think he was genuinely upset, snerk. Better people than me might feel sorry for the psycho murderer when he's crying :)

, "Okay, I love this whole take on Luke's psyche/sexual kinks because it's pretty much how I see him too.

Twins! I don't know where that came from, I can only assume the actor's performance :D

But this particular snippet about the coffee was golden. I'm replaying it in my head and I can *see* how forced the niceness from Audrey would be. Total teeth gritting as she says "Okay"! HEE! WIN!

Yeah I must admit that made me snigger when I was writing it.

I love, love, love Luke's reaction here. Like he's testing out the waters; almost as if he doesn't want to admit to liking Sylar like that if alpha male Matt wouldn't approve.

That's *exactly* what I was going for! :D


Thanks so much!

[aurilly.livejournal.com]

Campbell shakes his head. “No, he doesn’t like them. He says they’ll give you a brain tumour or something.”
Best last line of a chapter ever. God, I love this so much it's hurting me. The dialogue is so fast and efficient. And I can really FEEL Matt using his power, even thought it's from Audrey's POV. This whole thing with Luke is amazing. The slash everywhere, Luke totally falling for it, Audrey's incredulity. Everything. Fabulous.

[kethni.livejournal.com]

I don't know why the brain tumour thing makes me laugh so much but it does :)

This whole thing with Luke is amazing. The slash everywhere, Luke totally falling for it, Audrey's incredulity.

Yeah that worked better than I thought it would :D I'm running out of people I haven't slashed Matt with, hehe.

Thanks! <3