2007-05-11: A Tragedy Of Errors


Elena_icon.gif Elle_icon.gif Jane_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif

Summary: Unaware of the discussion that took place between Jack and Elle, in where Elle makes the wrong conclusion about why Elena and Peter hid the fact that they knew one another, Elena heads off for a day of work. She never makes it to the EvoSoft building as Elle decides to take matters into her own hands.

Date It Happened: May 11, 2007

A Tragedy of Errors

Outside of the Gomez Apartment, Queens, New York

She has absolutely no idea that shit's about to hit the fan.

Elena looks like she's about ready to step into the offices of EvoSoft. Her clothes today are more business casual than anything else. "Shit…." she mutters, checking her cellphone at the time. She was running late as it was. She might need a cab. She was already thinking about the press releases she has to edit, reporters to call back considering they were all jumping at the company's throats about follow up stories on the EvoSoft/LE merger. Which means, of course, that she's got -stuff to do- and -little time- to do them. Dressed in black slacks, a fitted, button down shirt, she's still pulling on her jacket and tugging her carrier bag over as she opens the door of her apartment building and steps out.

While she might be lucky enough to miss the impending doom that was Elle Bishop, that won't be happening today.

Elle, meanwhile, has been driving here straight from the Den of Iniquity, courtesy of a call to the Company that tells her the address of one Good Samaritan. While she kept her face straight with Jack, her emotions are in turmoil. If Jack knows which Peter from all the Peters in New York, it means Elena told him, since only Elena and Elle saw him. And if Elena knew his last name without being told it, it means Elena and Peter knew each other…and both of them tried to play it off otherwise. This leads to only one chain of conclusion in the mind of a diagnosed paranoid: A) Peter is a former nurse, B) Elena told Elle she volunteers at a hospital, C) Elena is frickin' hot, and D) Elle is a paranoid, and A+B+C+D = Peter is cheating on me with Elena. The electroblonde sees Elena coming out of her place, and she steps on the brakes as she's heading by…which is all the more likely to make it look like one of those New York coincidences. She lowers her window, and looks out. "Elena?"

Maybe she ought to give Jack a call - she needed a ride, and he's the only one she knows who can get her considering he owns his own business, and Gene and Eric are probably busy. She starts dialing the number when her name is called. Elena pauses from looking at her phone. She slips it in her pocket, and turns to….see Elle in her car. "Elle?" she says, blinking a little bit in surprise. "What are you doing in this part of town?" she asks. Elle in Queens? What's she doing in Queens? This wasn't exactly Hyde Park or Greenwich Village, there's nothing to see here.

That's the great thing about being a sociopath. When you need to, you can be utterly charming, even when you're planning murder. "I actually just got done dropping off a present for you, at the bar from last night." True. She pulls the car over towards the curb, the better to chat without blocking traffic. "I wanted to thank you, and I really wasn't in much condition to do it last night."

She….got her a present? Seriously? "….you didn't have to do that," Elena says. She doesn't approach the car - it was moving. She's not suicidal. When she parks though, she slides her hands in her pockets. "I would've done the same for anyone." Which is true. She would've seen to Jamal even if Jack didn't tell her to do so. "I hope you didn't spend too much….it's really nice of you though, how's your foot?"

There is a bit of hesitation. Elle can see it on Elena's face. She looks back at the apartment building, and then at the car. "You don't really have to," she says, walking over towards the car and going around to the passenger side of the vehicle. She rests a hand on the door latch, and peers into the window towards the driver's seat. "You sure you don't mind at all? It's not out of your way or anything? I need to get to downtown so….I was actually just about to call a friend of mine to pick me up."

Elle smiles. "No, it's just fine." She unlocks the door. "I didn't have anything I was doing except dropping off that present for you. Really, it's the least I can do after you helped me out last night."

"It's really nothing - I didn't even do much," Elena says, opening the car door and stepping inside, closing the door and furrowing her brows a touch. While she isn't naive, and while she knows Elle's company, she doesn't have a reason to suspect her today. Besides, Peter's in love with her for a reason, right? "How was your day?" she asks the petite blonde as she reaches over for the seatbelt.

Elle smiles, and waits for Elena to click the seatbelt on. After all, once she has that on, she's not -going- anywhere fast. "You know, it started off really well…well, except for my foot. But it kinda went downhill after that." And then, with Elena belted in, she starts the car away from the curb…and at the same time, holds the steering wheel with her left hand, points her right hand at Elena, and discharges.

Once the car is pulled from the curb, once the seatbelt is buckled - the moment Elle says that something went downhill, Elena gets the NAGGING FEELING that something was wrong. After this she's never, ever, ever, trusting any Company agent again. But when she turns to see the young woman's fingertip pointed at her, she doesn't even have time to react when the electric bolt of energy zaps into her forehead and she slumps onto her seat.

Forrest - Bishop Apartment, Greenwich Village

Elle returns home, accompanied by some general scuffing and thumping. The reason becomes obvious, once she gets the door open…she's dragging in an unconscious Elena, one hand under each arm, and favoring her good foot to do so. Elle is not big or strong enough to have an easy time dragging -anyone-, much less a dead-weight Elena. But she's doing it anyway. Once Elena's feet clear the door, Elle puts her down, closes and locks the door, and then resumes the dragging position, apparently intent on dragging Elena into her bedroom.


Hopefully Jane doesn't mind her hardwood floor getting pieces of Elena on them. Her business casual clothes are rumpled, and one heel from her pumps is dragging into the wood. The young latina's head is rolled back, her eyes the same behind her sockets. She's down for the count, and out like a busted lightbulb. Thankfully her abilities are of the kind where she could keep the headache from being severe.

In the main room when Elle returns, with guitar in hand, Jane's in mid-chord when the noise of someone arriving happens. She sets the instrument down and heads toward the door, because it sounds like the Loose Blonde Cannon bought something heavy, or lots of something, and is struggling. When she rounds the corner she… freezes. Unconscious Elena being dragged across the carpeted floor, by Elle. Her eyes widen, and the jaw opens and closes two times, then three and four too. Concern enters her features. She finally manages to speak. "What the…? Elle, what's going on?" In her mind there are various scenarios. Jessica attacking Elena for helping her roommate and being rescued? Something else…?

Elle looks over her shoulder to Jane. "Grab her legs. Help me get her in my room, onto the bed." It's very matter-of-fact. Very direct.

Bending down, Jane takes a grip on the younger woman's legs and straightens, lifting them up and beginning to carry her toward the bedroom. Getting Elena into a position where she can rest and recover comfortably is a good thing, answers can wait. For a bit. As she helps do this carrying, her eyes study the latina for any sign of visible injury.

There's only a few signs - namely her clothes rumpled - the hem of her slacks somewhat torn from where she was dragged out of the car, and onto the pavement. There's also a bit of redness from where the bolt of lightning hit Elena square between her eyes - but it doesn't look like a burn, so it could be injuries sustained from….wherever she had been knocked unconscious. It thankfully doesn't look like she got whaled on the face by a baseball bat.

The blonde works to get Elena into her room, and manages it, with Jane's help. Her next action might be more of a surprise…she goes to the drawer of her nightstand and pulls out two pairs of handcuffs. She cuffs Elena's wrists together, passing the chain of the cuffs around the headboard bar to effectively cuff the Latina to the bed. The other pair cuff her ankles together. No running.

"Elle," Jane asks, when the gear comes out, her concern starting to shift from that to anger and disbelief. The words she speaks are slow and edgy, with a sort of forced calm to them. "What the hell are you doing to this woman?" She moves to stand in the doorway, watching, hoping to figure this all out, because… it's totally not all adding up. "Why are you locking her to your bed?"

Elle's response is to put her hand on Elena's shoulder. A position from which she can discharge enough voltage to kill the other woman in a heartbeat. "Get your phone." she tells Jane. "Come back in here with it, and then call Peter. Tell him to come here right away. Do not tell him what the situation is. If you don't, or if you take more than 20 seconds to get back here with your phone, she's dead." The blonde's voice is a little tremulous with barely contained rage.

All the jostling around, the cuffing, the voices - she could hear them. Her first instinct was to groan, to try and move around…..but feeling the cold brace of the cuffs, the fact that her arms are over her head, and she could hear Jane's angry voice demanding to know why she's being cuffed to the bed….Elena keeps her eyes closed. -She'd- like to know too. And while awake now, she keeps her eyes closed and her body unmoving.

….and there's her answer. She's being held hostage. Why the HELL was she calling Peter? Shouldn't she be calling Cass? Her father? What the hell does she want? She -helped- her last night!

Oh Jane…


Whatever she did, she was so sorry.

Crap. Her backup plan just went out the window on a pair of wings. Concorde wings at that. She's in the doorway, and had planned to slip out and go for a bucket if the answers weren't to her liking, but… she can't do that in twenty seconds. Through the gathering rage, reason still remains enough to do as she's told, knowing the upper hand can't be gained. Yet. Her phone is on her hip, she takes it in hand and taps out a number.

Elle remains there, hand on Elena's shoulder, watching. "I went to take her a present this morning." she says. "That's how blind I was. I hadn't seen it at all." She looks down at Elena, and her expression is…well, for lack of a better word, murderous. "They both lied to me, to my face. I'll fix it. There's no way in HELL I have gone through having my memories, my -life- stripped away from me so that he and she can go having an affair behind my back." Well, that would explain her motivation, at least. The words are addressed to Jane, "explanation" enough for it.

Do something, Elena.
Do something.

Elena's about to. Her eyes closed, feeling the woman's hand on her shoulder - it would be so easy. Her powers could be both remote and tactile. She could send enough neurotransmitters up her system to REALLY ruin her day, even though she'll settle for a gentler touch. However before she could do so, her next words cause enough of a distraction that she doesn't do it.



She was going to get KILLED for something she DIDN'T DO?

She's so stunned all she can do is lie there, her eyes closed, and tries to get her breathing even. So she uses her powers on herself, a blast of calm into her already fried nerves, before she starts struggling in a panic.

She holds the phone to her ear for a period of time, listening to it ring, before the voicemail preamble happens. At whatever prompt that phone company provides, she speaks into the phone with a voice stern and clear in pronouncing words. "Pete, this is Jane. You need to come to our apartment right away." Then she closes the phone without any addition or explanation. It's just that terse message. An affair?" With Elena the Virgin? No. Just, no. It's a dangerous situtation, and so she's keeping herself in check reaction-wise, although the build of anger can't be hidden. Is it because Elena's in this spot, or because of the alleged affair. "What evidence suggests such a thing, Elle?"

Elle is clearly -not- in an emotionally calm state. "They both pretended not to know each other last night. They both work or worked at hospitals. And -look- at her." Well, it's a compliment, if not the most pleasant of situations to get one in. "There's no reason they would have pretended not to know each other unless they were -doing- something." Her fingers tighten some on Elena's shoulder, like she -REALLY WOULD LIKE TO FRY HER-, but she's holding herself back still. "I have lost -too damn much- to get thrown over like this." She's actually trembling slightly.

"I………am NOT sleeping with Peter Petrelli," comes the throaty, pissed-off growl from the bed.

When both women turn to her, Elena's eyes are wide open, and she's very lucid. God knows how long she's been down, and while she's scared at the murderous look directed to her, she's not about to show it. She clings onto her righteous anger, cheeks turning red with ire and her dark eyes narrowing. The golden glints of her prediminantly obsidian eyes flash at Elle.

"And if you want any further proof, you can knock me out again, throw me in the trunk of your goddamned car, and go PAY A VISIT TO MY GYNECOLOGIST. WHO WILL TELL YOU MY HYMEN IS STILL INTACT!" she roars from the bed, her temper going haywire. She's lash forward if it wasn't for the fact that she's got cuffs on, and she knows it.

"And HOW MANY GODDAMNED TIMES do I have to tell SOMEONE I'm fucking CATHOLIC?" she continues to rage. "Is the concept of ABSTINENCE completely and utterly a Bible Belt thing now?! Get this thing off me!" She jerks at the handcuffs.

Jane leans against the doorframe, and glances over Elena's face. "Yeah, she's hot. Smoking hot. In more ways than one right now. I've been called that myself before. I know Pete. Are you going to fry me too? Pete's not the affair type, Elle, he loves you. But… it's a pretty quick way to get thrown over if you hurt her in any way. It doesn't work well with guys to go kidnapping people, cuffing them to beds, and threatening to kill instead of, you know, asking him straight up."

Elle is a little beyond the rational at the moment. First there's Elena's tirade, then Jane's explanation. "You didn't lie to me. They LIED TO ME!" In her mind, that's all the proof she needed. She looks back from Jane to Elena. "Stop LYING!!!" she all but screams at the Latina cuffed to the bed, and voltage sears out from her hand through Elena.

Now, Ms. Gomez, You Will Die.

The Palpatine-esque power FIRES at her, Elena's body jerking back. But she was prepared for that this time. No more playing nice. She sags against the cuffs, breathing raggedly….but strangely enough she doesn't scream. Oh she feels it, the wake of the tingle running its course down her body, but she pulls her head up to fix Elle with an angry stare. Her breathing sounds a little labored, but the pain isn't as bad as it could be. Oh no. If anything it feels like a tickle.

"I'm not. Lying," she growls from where she is, her abilities keeping the pain at bay. "You know why I didn't tell you outright I knew your boyfriend? You're looking at it." She jerks at the handcuffs on Elle's bed. "You nearly killed two friends of mine who knew Peter. I wasn't about to go down the same way."

The logistics aren't in her favor, at all. Standing in the doorway, Jane could maybe slip out and go get that bucket, but she'd be seen leaving and in the time it would take to return with it, Elena would already be extra crispy. Even if she could get there and back, Elle is facing the doorway. Odds of being able to throw the water on her and strike target? Slim. Odds of getting fried for trying and Elena dying along with her as a consequence? Very High. Just like in the bookstore, she's unable to act. For the moment, anyway. Get here, Pete, just. fucking. get. here. now! In her mind, this will all turn out okay, somehow, and there will be consequences. Elle has to sleep sometime, after all. There will be a sleeping Elle, a bucket, and a baseball bat. Warning was given after the attack on Cass and others. Jane's helpless rage continues to grow, held back, but evident on her face. Her knuckles are starting to turn white, and the urge to scream grows. This is twice now, twice! If it's possible for this to be the first occasion of Doctor Forrest emitting a knockout scream, it may well happen.

Elle looks back at Elena. Bookstore crowd. Has to be. "That was before I knew what was going on." When she'd had her memories stolen. She's impressed though, that Elena -isn't- screaming in pain. That should have hurt a LOT. "I wouldn't have hurt one of Peter's friends. He -knows- that. He's been in my head. He wouldn't have lied to me." The problem, ironically enough, is partly caused because the paranoid has TOO MUCH faith in her boyfriend.

"Do I look like I'd be able to know that?" Elena hisses at Elle. She was angry. Oh god, she was so angry. "I wasn't there that week. I was in New Hampshire. For school. When I came back I found out you tried to kill them. What the hell was I supposed to do? Leave myself out in the open ripe for the picking? Your -people- already visited me once. I sacrificed some of my memories just so my father would get away. I'm not about to sacrifice -all of them- just so you could get the wrong conclusions between me and Peter -anyway- if I told you that yeah, I knew him. Peter is a good guy, one of the best I know, and yeah, he's attractive as all hell, but I know about you and him and I know that he loves you and even if I wanted to I would NEVER. EVER. Come between two people in the way you're thinking or suggesting. I have more pride than that. I might not have save the world powers like the rest of you do, but I -at least- know right from wrong and in the end, if it doesn't save my body, it will at least save my soul. So do your worst."

Her gaze looks over at Jane. She knows that look. If she doesn't do anything, if she doesn't do anything -right now-, Jane will do something she'll regret. And she can't have that. Not Jane. Not anyone else. She'll risk it, and throw everything she's got. If she reaps the whirlwind if it doesn't work, so be it. She'll take it all, as long as it wasn't Jane.

Her eyes narrow.

"And I'll do mine."

With that, she lets go of the control she has on her body. She sacrifices her own comfort so she can fire a sudden, sharp shot towards Elle's brain. She was done. She was out of here.

The brunette in the doorway listens to the tirade, while plotting to contain her own building rage and somehow make it to that bucket so she can get the upper hand. Visions of what possible consequences she might bring to bear run through Jane's head while she's keeping track of her options, and when those final two words reach her ears, she has some inkling of what may soon happen. She's felt a taste of it herself some time before. She doesn't move, no, but she's ready to at the first sign of safe opportunity.

That would be about the point where Elle gets poleaxe by Elena's powers. Not that she knows Elena -has- powers in the first place. Her hand comes off Elena's shoulder as her whole body seems to spasm, along with a loud scream of pain, and then her brain just shuts down from pain overload. THUMP goes the blonde.

She had to let go of her painblocker so she could give everything she's had to knock Elle out, and once the pain that Elle has managed to inflict upon her earlier comes back, Elena bites back a cry. Her body stiffens, and she squeezes her eyes shut as the delayed Electrocution attack fries through her body. She pants, to keep herself from crying and she lowers her head. She could feel her mouth bleeding, a drop or two of crimson and saliva falling onto the floor. "J…Ja…Jane…" she gasps. "T…take her….t….before she…." She can't talk, but she's at the very least still conscious. She's not sobbing.

Jane sees the blonde stiffen, scream, and go down. She doesn't wait to speak with Elena, there's no delay at all. She pushes off the doorframe and walks briskly to the kitchen. To the counter and cabinets under the sink, where a bucket is kept. How much time does she have? Unknown, she won't risk a wake up before she can start containment measures. The bucket goes under the faucet, she fills it, and quickly carries it back to the bedroom. If time permits, she stalks back into Elle's bedroom and dumps the contents over her, doing the best she can to soak her thoroughly and drop the empty vessel on her.

Voice mail? Peter's not sure why he didn't answer the phone, honestly. Could be he didn't hear it. He never has his ringer turned up too loud. Either way, he got the message relatively fast. And as they learned when Elle got impaled on the foot, when it's an emergency, he gets there faster than he might otherwise. Right about now, there's a knock on the door. If no one answers, he'll find a window.

When the rage clears, the initial shock, the humiliation of her position fades, Elena glances down at Elle as Jane splashes water on her. She bites her lip to keep from crying, and she squeezes her eyes shut. "Jane….I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she says with a choked voice, blood seeping further into her mouth from the strain. Elle was right. It should've hurt like a bitch, and it did. And does. "I didn't want to but if I didn't do anything….if I didn't do - something-….I….I couldn't just…."

She's still angry. After dropping the empty plastic bucket which falls and lands somewhere near the blonde's upper legs, Jane glances over Elena and hears the door. A few short steps are taken, she turns to give something of a comforting embrace and whisper Spanish words into an ear. "That's Pete, I hope. Hang tight, right back, chica." And she's off, headed to answer the knock and admit the man.

Yes, it's Peter. Dressed in his normal attire, though certainly windblown. Even his hair, still short as it is, is overly ruffled. "What's going on? What happened?" he asks as he's admited, expecting to hear something really terrible. Maybe Jessica found where Elle lived and tried to finish things? Maybe Elle went after her, even as injured as she still is? There's so much it could be… Course he doesn't even suspect what it really will end up being.

She's angry, and her hands shake a bit with the crisis point passing into containment and aftermath. Jane ushers Pete in and moves to close the door behind him. "Elle thinks you and Elena are having an affair. She flipped out, kidnapped and brought her here. Elena's cuffed to Elle's bed and in pain, she took current from Elle and handled it, until she gave her a solid dose and Elle passed out." The briefing is given on the move, she's headed back into the bedroom to set about searching Elle's pockets for the keys.

The keys are on Elle's keyring, and not hard to find, with her out cold. How long she'll stay that way is unknown, but there's vague sounds coming from her. Blondie has a pretty impressive pain tolerance. (All that torture when she was a kid, y'know.)

"What?" Peter asks, voice rather breathless and confused, not understanding at all, even as everything is pretty much laid out. In shorter details. "Why would she…?" There's so much he wants to ask, but the closer he gets to the bedroom, and the more he sees when he enters— the more that's described to him, the more sick he feels. "Elena?" he asks the girl who 'took current' and— is apparently handcuffed to a bed that he slept in the night before. Then he hears the sounds of sturring from the drenched blonde and he moves over to kneel beside her, keeping his hands to himself. "Elle?"

When Peter steps into Elle's bedroom, he'll find the blonde, wet and unconcious, passed out on the side of the bed. And on the bed itself is Elena, her eyes closed and sagged against the handcuffs. She's coughing, just a bit, turning her head to the side so she could defiantly wipe the fluid seeping from her mouth against the sleeve of her button-down blouse. Her ID card that gave her passage into EvoSoft's secure building can be seen clipped in one of her belthoops. Looks like she'd been taken on her way to work.

Her pantlegs are frayed, where Elle had dragged her body from the car and into Jane's apartment. When Peter and Jane come back, she looks up from where she is, and then closes her eyes again. "I had to," she repeats. "I'm sorry. I couldn't just sit here and take it."

She pulls at her handcuffs futiley. She can't look at either of them, pained and more than just a little bit humiliated being in this position.

Finding the keys, she begins the process of freeing Elena. Fingers fumble a bit in finding the right one on the ring and then getting them into the first restraint, but eventually Jane pulls it off and Elena's hands are freed as she moves from there to her ankles. She's starting to crack a bit, with no longer needing to keep it together, but still holding up as she tends this task. "I've no idea why, Pete, she just ranted that you pretended not to know each other and assumed it meant an affair."

Elle's eyes begin to flitter open, looking around in more than a little disorientation as she tries to get her bearings. She sees Pete there, and begins to charge up…with expected results. She screams quite loudly -again- (third time in two days), curling up against the pain as she short-circuits.

"It's okay— you were just trying to protect yourself," Peter says softly, looking rather sad as he watches the damp woman wake up— and electricute herself. Instead of keeping a safe distance, though, he moves forward and puts his hands on her shoulders as she short circuits, pulling her up against his chest and holding her tight. "Elle, Elle, calm down, please." With her as wet as she is, there's going to be a harder time talking to her, he's sure. Even if it'd keep her relatively safe.

"I asked him to," the latina says hoarsely. "I didn't want any more exposure to the Company. He was only being a good friend and obliging me. It isn't his fault." Freed, her wrists first, and then her ankles, Elena doesn't say anything. She just reaches out to hug Jane tightly….but only for a few moments. Just a few. When she releases Jane, she swings her legs onto the floor, and stands up, turning so she could walk in a brisk pace towards the door. She hurts. She aches. But she WILL GET OUT OF THERE if she has anything to say about it. She doesn't give Elle a glance, or any of them the moment she reaches the doorframe. All she wants is to leave. All she wants is to take a breath and leave the harrowing experience behind. She was already seen handcuffed by both, and Jane saw her get electrocuted, and then accused of something she didn't do. She needed out. She -wanted- out. She wanted to cry in peace, and the last thing she wanted is for them to see it. ANY of them.

Nothing blocks the Latina's path out of the bedroom after the dry brunette accepts and returns the hug, squeezing slightly to give what comfort she can, her eyes searching the other woman's with so much in them. Fear, rage, shame, relief, all in a swirling mix. Jane needs her own release soon and also exits the bedroom. "My room's down the hall, next door along." Where's she going? To the main room where her guitars are, unless that means she and Elena are headed in the same direction.

Elle shakes her head. First betrayed by people, then betrayed by her power. "No, no, let me go!!" She says, but it's said through tears. She tries to beat her fists against Peter, but it's pretty ineffectual; she's not in top form at the moment. Or anywhere near it.

"I'm sorry," Peter says softly, the emotion of the moment already hitting him over he head much the same as the fists of the small blonde girl telling him to let her go. He doesn't, even if part of him would like to. He sounds emotionally winded, which has quite an effect on his physical state too. From the way he repeats this, he might be apologizing to all of them. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This is my fault." He's not going to pretend otherwise. Closing his eyes, he keeps holding onto her on the floor. If she has to spark up again and shock herself, then he'll be right there with her at least.

She doesn't follow Jane to her room - because if she did, it would suck for her eardrums. But she doesn't stop at the living room. Elena yanks the main door to the apartment open, and lets it shut behind her as she hurries down the stairs. Sheer willpower is keeping her mind straight, jerking the front door of the building open so she could step out. Striding towards Elle's car, she opens the door, and grabs her carrier bag. No way she was leaving it there, or any of her things that might've dropped when she had been dragged out the car.

In an almost defiant fashion, she spins on her heel sharply, and starts making a quick, brisk walk down the street. Her hand is digging for her cellphone, fumbling for it as a sheen of tears start blurring her vision. She blinks them away stubbornly, and hits dial, then puts it in her ear.

She can't call Eric. She didn't want to worry him. She can't call her father. Her father had a gun. She can't call Jack, Jack has PLENTY of guns. She can't call Drake, Drake already killed someone once. So she calls someone who isn't as emotionally invested as all of the above. "Gene…?" she says once the other line picks up. "Could you….could you give me a ride someplace? I'll be waiting at…." She takes a deep breath, and rattles off an address.

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