fixeswatches | (no subject)

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After they pumped him up with that magic blood again (he really needed to find out where that came from. Was there someone who could heal? He needed that power) Angela had a strong talking to with Gabriel.

Apparently, throwing Elle into walls and threatening to kill her was bad. She was, for whatever reason, under the list of people he was not allowed to kill, no matter how much he wanted that beautiful spark of hers. Likewise, Angela refused to give her to him as a gift of other sorts. She instead just gave him a strained smile and told him that he needed to learn to get along with the blonde. That they had more in common then they knew.

Whatever that meant Sometimes, Angela's words seemed like they had a double of meaning, but Gabriel had no idea what those double meanings were.

Either way, that's how he ended up being locked in the same room as Elle. He was in one seat, she was in the other, a table sat between them. There was nothing else. The door was locked and sealed in a way that his telekinesis could not easily just open it. He had already tried that.

Several times.

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While Gabriel acted like a child and tried multiple times to get out as if she had some horrible zombie virus, like a child, Elle sat patiently at the table, her legs crossed and her posture straight. She was wearing a pencil skirt, and pumps, and a blue button-up (matched her eyes), and a cute little corset to go over it.

She was acting completely professional, just as Noah had told her to do. Apparently, she wasn't allowed to kill Gabriel--she had argued she was protecting herself, and she hadn't killed Gabriel, or even left him to die!--and she also had to train him. She had replied, obviously, that she was going to anyway because it was her job, and Gabriel was just a psychopath that attacked her because she called him boring.

Noah had looked at her with that blank look and patient smile, sitting as the edge of her bed, and told her she and Gabriel need to learn to get along or something. Elle was fine with that--actually, maybe she'd thrown a tiny tantrum because he had tried to kill her--so here they were. Locked in a room, together, silent.

"I think before we can start our shiny new professional relationship," Elle finally said, breaking the quiet, "you owe me an apology."

Gabriel was simply wearing a pair of black slacks, a white button down shirt, a tie and a vest. These were really the only kind of outfits Angela had left him with. He didn't mind though.

He rolled his eyes at Elle's statement. "If anyone should apologize, it's you," He said firmly. "You started things."

After all she was the one who flirted and tried to seduce him and then got bitchy at him for kissing her. It all went downhill after that. It was totally her fault.

That was his story, and he was sticking to it.

She scoffed, rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms. He was so infantile. "You were going to kill me just because you're boring and you couldn't handle hearing the truth. I win," she retorted. "Say you're sorry."

"I was going to kill you because you were being a brat and you have something I want," He shot back.

She was such a child.

"I am not a brat," she argued, bristling. "And my ability is mine, so back off." She leaned forward a little in her seat, sticking her nose up at him. "You don't need to be an agent, you need to see a shrink about your serious issue with narcissism."

"It wouldn't be if I took it from you," He said casually. But he remembered Angela's words.

He couldn't kill Elle.

"Funny, you're the only one who seems to think I have any sort of problem."

Elle couldn't help it; she rolled her eyes again. "You don't know a lot of people, do you?" she shot back. Ugh, she just wanted to leave already. He was so infuriating and annoying she thought she was going to really kill him any second now. Her eyes couldn't help but roam towards the closed door longingly.

Was he really so important? How mad would Angela be if she killed him again?

No, she had to be a good agent. Follow orders. Be nice to him. The thought alone made her want to vomit until she died.

It's not that she cared he stole abilities. She didn't really care at all. But she cared about hers. She wasn't just her stupid ability. Ugh, and he'd kissed her! And the way he grabbed her... She really hated him.

"Not really," Came his reply with a shrug of his shoulders. "Not that I can remember. They didn't tell you much about me, did they?" He asked with an almost curious tilt of his head.

He figured Angela would have filled her in on his condition or something.

"I don't remember anything before the accident. Before they rescued me."

He wasn't sure why he was telling her this, other than he could.

"What are you talking about?" she hissed, even more agitated now, just because she had to ask for clarification. Noah really hadn't told her much of anything, and now it was grating on her nerves. In retrospect, she didn't even know how to train him. Train him in what? Other agents and experts and trainers had taught her fight and carry out missions, and all that stuff. She wasn't even a real agent yet. One in the field at least.

He blinked a little, leaning in now, folding his hands over the table. "I was in a car accident, a really bad one. The Company rescued me." Because he was special. "But I don't remember anything before it happened. I don't remember my parents, my life, any of it."

"So you have amnesia or something?" she asked, her voice a little less think with aggravation, but it was certainly still there.

It was odd, now that thought about it. She'd only ever seen simple bag and tags... or just bags. Prisoners weren't given special treatment, not even the ones they let go after a few days. Why was he special? Because he knew how to cut people's heads open? Yuck.

Why were they feeding him? What for? Were they running tests? Elle looked at him, suddenly curious. Suspicious. Something didn't add up. Even the people with abilities that became agents... it was never like this.

"Something like that."

Of course, Gabriel didn't know anything weird about the situation. He didn't know the way the Company really worked at all. Besides, if he was the exception, that just cemented how special he was, didn't it? It was important to be different, to get better treatment. He couldn't remember anything about his life before, and yet that conviction still stuck at him.

"Are you really that surprised to find that out?" He asked with a curious tilt of his head.

She had been in the Company for a while, as far as he knew, if there was something weird about the situation, something off...she would know, right?

"What, that you have amnesia?" she sneered. "No," she said snottily. "Just another boring thing to go on the list of boring things about you."

And why was it so important that she play nice with him? Why were they locked in this dumb room? Even if she knew the first thing about training him, she didn't need to like him to do it. She didn't want to be here, she didn't know why she was here, and all she wanted to do was find Noah and figure out what was going on.

He rolled his eyes at the boring comment but didn't reply to it. At least not for now. "So do you know why they think it's so important we get along?" This had been the first time Angela had told him he couldn't kill someone, and he had to admit, it was rather confusing.

What made her so special?

Elle shifted in her seat a little. She didn't know what to say, and her angry mask faltered. "No," she replied. "Noah told me you were my assignment. I'm supposed to--" She stopped, unsure, and wracked her brain. What had Noah said? "...show you the ropes. Make you feel at home. I don't know," she added quickly, surprised at her honesty. That was essentially what he told her to do, right? Be herself. "And I don't care," she added harshly.

"Why you? We clearly don't get along, but they insist it has to be you? Doesn't that make you curious?" He asked with a tilt of his head. Because it confused him and made him want to figure out what they knew, why they insisted on Elle. Put the pieces together until they finally fit and made sense.

Yes. It did. A lot. She stared at the table for a moment, and then lifted her eyes to his--they were dark, a little hungry and completely intent in a way that forced him under her skin. "There has to be an explanation," she said, softly now. She was sure when she asked, Noah would explain.

She knew he wouldn't. This was another Company secret, wasn't it? Like the ones Daddy never told her about. Only this time she was right in the middle of it. They were using her for something.

No that she had dropped that angry, bratty attitude she had been holding early, it was easy to notice once again how pretty she was. Not that that mattered. It was just an observation, that's all.

"It's like they know something we don't," He murmured thoughtfully.

Edited 2009-12-14 07:14 (UTC)

"There's no 'we'," she immediately intoned, her voice strengthened. "There's just me, and then there's you," she clarified, and stood up, her heels clipped against the linoleum floor as she paced away from him. She just needed to move, or something. She felt like the walls were closing in, because this--what he was saying--was true, and she didn't want to believe it.

He was special. A company project or something, and she was an agent. She wasn't--she wasn't here to be manipulated. She owned this building! She practically funded the Company now, too! It was hers.

"I didn't mean that sort of 'we'," He replied, rolling his eyes a little at her. And he didn't. It wasn't like they were friends or anything else. He didn't even know anything about her.

They were just two people, stuck in a room together under weird circumstances. Nothing more, nothing less.

"I didn't either," she snapped, turning around to glare at him, her eyes suspicious. "I don't why you think you're so special, but you're not," she said, more matter-of-fact and pompous this time than angry. "For your information, my Dad ran this Company, so if you want to thank anyone for your life and all those powers, you should be thanking me, got it?" She didn't know why she was telling him all this, but it made her feel better. Made her feel important. She'd figure out what was going on, she would. She even had a right to do it.

Edited 2009-12-14 07:34 (UTC)

He bit on his tongue. He almost snapped back with something like 'I should thank your dad, not you," but he withheld. For now. If he could manage to get along with her, maybe he could start figuring things out and making sense of them. It was worth a shot.

"Do you really want me to thank you for providing me with people to kill?" He asked in an almost amused tone of voice.

She looked at him oddly--what kind of question was that? "Why not?" she asked, her incredulous voice ringing against the bare walls. Elle was used to treating people as things, anyway. Daddy had practically encouraged her to torture Adam daily--told her he deserved it, and she needed the practice with her powers--well, that was until he found out Adam had started letting her practice other things.

Edited 2009-12-14 07:41 (UTC)

"Most people wouldn't be proud of giving me something like that, that's all," He stated with a shrug of his shoulders. His dark eyes looked over her. "You're interesting."

Interesting in the way where he wasn't sure if he wanted to get to know her better, never talk to her again or crack her head open and see just how she worked. All three options had appeal.

Elle rolled her eyes at his observation, dropping her arms and walking confidently back to the table. That wasn't news; she knew she was interesting, and his assessing eyes didn't make her spine shiver, and she wasn't particularly complimented by him at all. She jumped onto the tabletop and crossed her legs again, smoothing down the tight fabric hiking up her thighs.

"That's more than I can say for you," she said with a bite in her voice. "And I didn't say I was proud of giving you anything."