2007-04-30: Getting Elle Out Of Her Pants


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Elle returns home after meeting with her father, she and Jane talk. Pete comes to visit, and Jane helps him get Elle out of her pants.

Date It Happened: April 30th 2007

Getting Elle Out Of Her Pants

Forrest - Bishop Apartment, Greenwich Village, Manhattan, NYC

When Elle returns home from her meeting with her father, on the morning of the 30th, Jane doesn't seem at first to be at home. But her bedroom door is closed, so there's no telling whether or not she might be in there without directly checking. Should the blonde move closer to that door, she may well hear the sound of a television through it, at low volume.

Elle makes her way to the door, and there's a gentle knock.

Inside, the television sound stops, as if someone pressed the mute or pause button on a remote when the knock came, followed by Jane's door muffled voice. "Elle?" she asks. "Is that you?"

Elle opens the door, and sticks just her head in. "It's me." she says, looking back into Jane's room.

She's on the bed, sitting up with remote in hand, and looking a bit rumpled from sleep. The pinstriped jersey with Yankees logo is on her upper body, it can't be seen if there's anything under it. Hair is twisted and disarrayed, she may not have been awake long. "Come in, Elle," Jane invites. "I was having a rare lazy morning, and watching some MHD."

Elle comes into the room. She's in jeans, heels, windbreaker. "Long afternoon. How are you doing?"

"I'm all good," Jane replies, keeping the set on pause as her attention's on Elle. "Long afternoon?" she asks. "How long?" That, to her, sounded like problems had been faced. Her brows raise slightly, and she taps a spot on the bed. "Come sit."

Elle nods. "I went to go see my dad." She moves over and sits down on the edge of the bed. "I think everything is handled, at least for the time being."

"That's good," Jane replies quietly. "It went well, then?" She's got some concern on her features, watching the blonde's demeanor. "Parents are complicated." In her experience, they are: Mother still partly wants to marry her off to some politician like a breeding mare and says so from time to time. Dad still wants her to be that future Senator, and marry her off to someone who might also be a Senator or help her get there, but he accepts her musical path, since she kept their bargain and got her Juris Doctorate. From time to time she wonders whether or not to tell them things, and if either of them has an ability.

The blonde nods back to Jane. "It did. About as well as could be expected, anyway. I think I've convinced him to leave things be with Peter and I. I still have to do my job, of course. And I have to keep things from "getting out of hand."

Tilting her head a bit, Jane replies with a question. "What does getting out of hand mean, Elle?" It doesn't escape her that she could well be one of those things to be kept from 'getting out of hand.' Mr. Bishop certainly has to know her name and other things, like that she was captured in the Free Pete raid and disciplined by memory loss mixed with imposed addiction and withdrawal.

Elle replies "Keeping things from getting in the press. From becoming common knowledge. I'm damage control, basically. Or suppose to be. But, I'm back, I've got my memories, and I'm able to keep doing what I'm doing."

"Good goals," Jane remarks solemnly. "I think a lot, when things are quiet around me, and sometimes I keep busy to keep from thinking more, to chase away things I don't want to think about when I feel close to breaking. I'll go wander the city, pick a spot, sit, and play guitar for hours until it passes." She takes a pause and a long breath, resuming with "I'm getting off track, aren't I? Staying in the shadows we have to do. For one there's the chance of attracting Sylar's attention. The other is sparking a public panic. If something like the Salem Witch Trials happened, I've no illusion who'd be hanged. Does your father have issues with you living here, Elle?"

Elle smiles a little. "I didn't bring it up too overtly, but I did bring up "having a life outside the Company." For the moment, I'm on my own, and able to do things I want…as long as I keep doing my job." A long pause. "He talked some about the future. About handing the Company over to me."

"Interesting," Jane quietly answers. "Is that something you want, eventually?" In the silence after that asking, some of her thoughts on the Company and its role start to bubble through. Things she mulled over internally. Government versus no government, what level is appropriate, etc. None of that is voiced. Yet.

Elle looks back to Jane. "I'm not sure. I'm really not. But I've got time to think about it. Daddy isn't going anywhere any time soon."

"That's good to hear, Elle," Jane replies, looking a bit relieved. "Part of me, when you said that, had to wonder why he'd be thinking that now, if he were sick…" She looks at her hands and takes a slow breath during a pause, then states "I think about the Company, Bishop Enterprises? a good bit. About its role, and the need for it to exist. Just like government has to exist. But the Company, like government or anything else with concentrated power, can be dangerous. Because power corrupts.

The blonde woman shakes her head. "I think it needs to exist. I've never thought otherwise. There's just some things that I don't know I would be okay with, that they do. And at the same time, some of it, I am."

"Exactly," Jane offers. "It does. The world is grey. Very few things are ever absolute in life. I studied the law, that's grey too. One generation's Supreme Court makes a ruling, fifty years later a different group of Justices in that Court reverses that ruling. The only thing constant is debate. We always debate what's right or wrong in government. I think things have happened, like raids on its facilities, because there hasn't been any debate. No chance for anyone outside it to be heard. Was the thing I'm told I was involved in the only such event to happen?" Her tone is speculative, not at all hostile.

The blonde woman looks back. "You know I can't say anything like that, Jane." A faint smile. "Secret agent, and all that, remember? If I told you, I'd have to kill you, and all that?"

Her reply is a laugh, and the topic is let drop. "I got it, Elle. I'm just brainstorming, maybe thinking too much. It's something I do sometimes, when time's on my hands and things are relaxed." Jane takes another pause, swinging her legs off the bed to stand up. "I should shower soon. If… if your father wants to meet me, and address concerns about people around you, I'll go, if you think I should."

Elle considers. "I'm sure he'd be more comfortable with it if you did. At the end, it's up to you to decide, though, Jane. I can get out of your hair." She stands, and starts for the door.

"I'll go, Elle," she replies, having already decided. And with that, Jane collects clothes for the day and heads to the shower. "You're not in my hair, though, but sleep is, and… I need to be out of bed and clean."

Elle nods. "I can wait for you outside your bedroom." she chuckles, and moves to do that very thing.

Crossing the hall, clad in a Derek Jeter shirt and probably nothing else, Jane enters the bathroom carrying clothes and proceeds to shower.

Elle waits out in the living room. There's not much else she can do till Jane's done showering, and so the blonde waits.

While the shower runs, there's a knock at the door. A very recognizable young man stands outside, waiting for them to answer— and it looks like Peter's holding something in his hands.

The blonde moves to the door. A quick look out the peephole shows her who it is, and she opens the door. "Can I help you?" she says. She keeps a straight face for just a second before she grins.

"I hope so, I spent money on a few house warming presents for someone who recently moved in," Peter says, playing along with the joke in a way that he's grinning lopsidedly. If she hadn't made the 'everything's okay' call, he might not have taken the joke as well as he does, but— he gets it. In his arms is definitely items of some sort! A shopping bag, for what looks like a home decorating place, and their must be a few items in it from the way it sits, boxes even. "Can I come in?"
Down the hall, there's the faint sound of running water as Jane performs her morning rites, even though it's not so much morning by now.

The blonde smiles at it, and looks down at the bag. "Ooh! Well, you come bearing presents…how can I say no?" she grins.

There's a laugh, and Peter steps inside the apartment, leaning down to press his lips against her forehead, before letting her close the door and carrying the bag towards the table near the couch. He glances towards the sounds of running water, but assumes shower or bathroom in general. "You didn't have that much— your stuff— so… if you don't like them I can take them back. I got you— here…" He opens up the bag and pulls out the top box, which is actually flat and thin. And obviously a picture frame, specifically designed for small pictures to be placed in one frame. At that, he can't help but look sheepish.

The blonde looks interested. "Ooh…" she looks over at things. She opens the picture frame, and smiles. "We'll need to get new pictures taken for it."

"I know— We'll do that soon— Still like the old ones back, but… those can be mine," Peter says softly, glancing down with a hint of embarassment. Not wanting to be stuck in the past, but he wants to still treasure it— that's fine, right? "Next, I got you— a clock, for your bed side," he adds, reaching down into the bag again and pulling out another box— only it's not the clock. "Oh, he must have put the clock on the bottom." What he's actually holding would be a decorative statue— of an sleeping cat.

Elle smiles. She looks at the cat. She seems curious, and opens it up, to take a better look at what's inside the box.

Definitely a statue of a cat that could easily fit on a shelf. A white cat, or kitten, with fine detail, curled up and sound asleep. If she'd examined his apartment, Peter had quite a few little trinkets like this among his belongings. "You just— make me think of a cat sometimes," he says sheepishly.

The blonde grins, and makes an almost-purr noise. "I don't know WHAT would give you that idea." She winks at him, and moves up close, pressing against him.
"Not a clue where it came from," Peter says, further going along with her tease, and leaning against her to nudge his nose on her own— a nudge that doesn't end there, because he further leans down to kiss her, only breaking off when he remembers… oh yeah. "The clock is last," he says, straightening and reaching back into the bag, pulling out the final item. As promised, the picture on the box advertises a decorative clock. The clock is against a castle backdrop.

Elle smiles. "I'll keep it next to my bed." She promises. She looks at it, all but cooing over it for a long moment, before she finally puts it carefully down, and goes over to stand on tiptoes next to Peter, and put her arms around him, to give him a big kiss.

Moments later the bathroom door opens and the brunette occupant crosses the hall, fully clothed in a tank top with an image of Pat Benatar across the front and a dark cotton skirt which reaches just over her knees, steps out. She's running a brush through still damp hair as she goes, feet still uncovered. Her bedroom door opens and closes behind her.

Did someone just walk through? Good timing, because he doesn't even notice the water's stopped. Peter's not even listening anymore as he removes all burdens from hand and just wraps his arms around his girlfriend, leaning down to make the kiss easier on her. Only after it's gone on a while does he straighten enough to add, "I'm glad you like them."

Elle smiles. "I love them. They're really sweet. And it'll be great. It'll give me something nice to put in my room, and it looks so bare right now. Thank you so much." she says, warmly. She hears the door, but like Pete, she's a twee bit distracted at the moment.

The bedroom door opens again, brunette with brush crosses back to the bathroom as she picks a few strands out of it along the way. Inside she drops them into a trash barrel and rubs her hands a few times, then deposits her brush and steps out. Shoes have been added, a pair of two inch heeled boots to match the skirt that come just about six inches up her ankles. A dark elastic sticks out of her mouth as she works with both hands to pull her hair back into a ponytail, then Jane secures it in place with the elastic on the way to the main room. She passes the pair, still in the entry hall near the door with boxes and gifts, and a smile forms. Nothing is said or done to distract and interrupt them; she chuckles softly and moments later is looking over her guitars, thinking about which to take today.

The kissing continues again, after she thanks him, and Peter's hands start to slide lower, until they touch her pants. With his thoughts fully on her— what she might have gone through today— and what she might go through in the future… there's an uncontrolled surge of ability that affects… well… her jeans. To Jane's eyes, she will see the jeans suddenly transform into shimmering gold, sliding down from the top to the bottom. For Elle— her pants just got stiff and very heavy. And for the man responsible… he just frowns as the fabric under his touch no longer moves right. Straightening out of the kiss, he blinks in confusion. Though may not be the only one.

Elle frowns at the sudden feel. It feels quite different against her legs, and she breaks the kiss, and looks down. "What the hell?" Her skintight jeans are still skintight, they just aren't jeans any more. Not unless you count a flawless gold sculpture of such as jeans.

It doesn't take long, the guitar choosing act. Seconds later Jane has her favorite Fender Strat in hand and is slipping the strap over her head on the way to the kitchen, just in time to pass the entry hall again and… stop in her tracks, frozen. She checks out Miss Electric Goldenpants, then Pete, and the blonde again. Her head tilts, and she muses "If we didn't already know he met her father, we would now." Then something else hits her, a look of shock and potential horror. "Elle," she begins, eyes wide, "can you still move your legs?"

"What— oh God, I'm sorry," Peter pulls his hands back quickly, as if they're dangerous, and takes a few quick steps back, looking horrified. After some of the things that the man had said… there's really a lot worse things he could have turned to gold while touching her— while /kissing/ her. "I didn't mean— I didn't know I…" Guilt? Oh yeah. Sorry, Elle, your boyfriend is the most powerful and unstable evolved you may ever meet.

Elle shakes her head. "No." she says. Which might cause a moment's panic for Jane, given where her train of thought is going. But she can't. Not because her legs are golden, but because they're trapped under an 1/8th-inch skintight sheath of solid gold. "It's okay…" she tells him, reassuringly. "It's all right." Concerned look, but it's for Pete's sake, not hers.

"Okay." She's thinking fast, looking at the transmutated pants and the blonde in them, "you'll both be okay." It might just be the pants, and being metal, that makes her unable to move. "Can you feel your legs, Elle?" Then she looks at Pete, trying to speak calmly and soothingly for both of them. "We'll get the handle on this. Pete, what were you thinking just before…?" Her voice trails off as she slips the guitar from her neck and sets it against the wall, moving to reach out and help the blonde lie down on the floor. She hopes, without saying it, Pete can think and find the on switch for this one, identify it in his mind, and not crumble with guilt, fear, or both.

Not crumpling in fear and guilt— but Peter's still definitely stunned and horrified. Even with Elle's assurances, he's terrified that he did more than turn her pants into gold. He's not sure he could fix it if he did— What Jane's asking makes sense, though, and he gives his head a small shake, "Was— thinking about Elle and… what she might have gone through today, with her dad. And how I wanted to protect her from him— what he could have done to us to keep us apart…" That's not the best feelings to associate with an ability that might turn the person he loves into a golden statue—

Elle looks back up at them. She's actually much more calm about it than they are, given the situation. But she's seen her dad use the ability before. "It's okay. Peter was touching the pants, not my legs. It's only the object that you're directly touching. I'll be fine…once we figure out a way to get me out of here." She wiggles her feet by way of demonstrating.

"Right," Jane replies, watching the feet wiggle. "We need to lay you down, Elle." She reaches out to get her hands under the blonde's shoulders so she can fall back into her hands. "Pete, pick her legs up, help me get her on the floor, then we can pull these off." Elle's calm seems to take hold in her, now that she's seen it's just the jeans. "You've just been given the world's most valuable pants."

"But I was touching you— just not with my hands." Does that really count? Apparently it does. But that doesn't mean he's any less worried about this… "I'm not sure I should be touching anything right now," Peter says doubtfully, looking genuinely worried. What if he does more damage? What if he can't control it? He hasn't been this horrified by uncontrolled power usage since… well… he almost blew up the city and instead blew up his brother— nearly. But he takes a slow breath and steps over and does as he's asked, trying to keep his hands /on her pants/ just in case. "I'm not sure how we're going to get these off…" He could totally call his brother for assistance! Help me get my girlfriend out of her pants?

Elle gets laid down onto the floor, a bit awkwardly, with their help. The electric blonde doesn't mention the close call…because it -was- a close call and she doesn't want Peter to freak out. "It's just something you'll need to rein in, Peter. Just like the radiation. For right now…" She considers, fairly calm still. "I could get myself out…but you'd probably have to heal me. Beyond that…I think we're gonna need a dremel tool, and a lot of patience."

"Or someone with strength remarkable enough to bend the metal so it can go over your feet," Jane muses, as she steps back to look down at Elle and study the problem. "It's not that thick, though, maybe they'll be just flexible enough to get over your feet and be pulled off." Jane, it seems, hasn't thought of how the clasp can be undone now. But she finds out when she moves to open the button at the top of them, if Elle will allow it. "Pete can stay here and work on this, work to get control. Use the dishes and glasses in the cabinets. They're replaceable, and hey, he can selll them and just give me enough to buy new stuff, give the rest to charity or something."

"I— I can't use two powers at once," Peter says softly, trying to think of ways he can get around risking her, and helping out. "And… I could be strong enough to bend this, I bet… I just need to focus on an ability I know— That should be enough… And there's one where I wouldn't even need to touch you." This is risky, but— she believes in him. She knows he's capable of this. And he /has to do this/. The desperation is enough to give him the right feeling, as he moves down to look at her feet, looking at the distance between her skin and the pant leg— not much. But… remembering a certain man he'd really rather forget, he points a finger at the pant leg, and starts to try to do what she suggested… Be her dremel tool. With the proper focus, it actually works pretty well, cutting through the gold, just as it'd been used to cut through a human skull.

The blonde waits there. Patient, if a little nervous. This is what she gets for wearing skin-tight attire. She can't really do much to help, not while she's inside them. "I don't think I could get my hips past the waist with them metal."

Cutting with mental power. That certainly works. Jane observes, stepping back to let Pete do his work with Elle's golden jeans for a moment, then she goes into the kitchen and starts pulling items from the cabinets. Glasses, dishes, bowls, she aims to set them all out as transmutation training tools. In her mind, it's still the same thing she'd told him before. Confidence, believing he can find and keep the handle.

"Just— let me know if I hurt you at all…" Peter says, cutting along as carefully as possible, and hoping not to see blood. In a lot of ways this is close to nurse training, where they'd have to train to cut the pants off an accident victim. Of course those aren't normally gold pants, but it could happen. When he gets all the way up one side, he settles back to take a few breaths, reaching up to rub at his head, as if it's starting to hurt. "Think you can… wiggle out of that? I can cut the other side too."

Elle nods. "Believe me, if you cut me, I'll yell. A lot." She consider. "Gold's pretty soft. If you pull the leg up, we should be able to peel me out of it just like a banana."

As she watches and the one side is cut open, Jane moves to get a grip on part of the altered pants and try to start pulling them further away from Elle, as if she were doing what the blonde suggested. The entire time she's also thinking, an idea is maybe occurring to her. Can she apply the power of her voice along with pulling, maybe use ultrasonic vibration to make them more flexible? "Watch your ears, Pete," she warns, as lips purse and she starts to emit a note just above the range of Elle's hearing and hold it, aimed at metal near her hands. And… nothing happens.

"And I'd apologize— a lot," Peter admits, standing up and moving away when Jane steps forward and warns him to watch his ears. His hands go up to cover them out of worry— but when the scream passes and nothing at all occured… he gives her a hint of a smile, and then says, "Let's just try to peel her out, okay?" With that, he moves forward and tries to pry up the gold, but avoid touching her skin. Just in case.

Elle smiles. "I'll be okay. Really. I don't break that easy. She wiggles, twists, turns, pulls…and finally manages to get out, and slide her other leg free. "Phew."

Helping the blonde escape her own pants as much as she can, Jane mulls over what happened and didn't happen. "Got to find a way of pulling that off," she murmurs under her breath. "Apply vibration, make the hard things softer, easier to manipulate. Find the right frequencies and durations." She doesn't seem to doubt it'll eventually happen with practice. Once the blonde is free it's back to the kitchen, getting out plates, glasses, and bowls for Pete to work with.

"I'm really sorry, Elle," Peter says again, wanting to fetch something for her to cover up with, but— what is he supposed to do, turn MORE of her pants into gold? "I guess I'll just go… practice for a while." Moving over towards the kitchen, still looking shamed, if also relieved that she's okay, he goes and picks up one of the glasses and holds onto it. For a long time.

Elle looks back at Peter. "Hey. It's -okay-." she says, warmly. "Better a pair of my pants than our television or something." She's teasing, lightly. "You'll get the hang of it. I have faith in you."

"So do I." The brunette watches as he enters the kitchen and takes a glass, calmly suggesting "Think what you thought when her pants changed, call that up, then concentrate on having those thoughts while not changing the object. It's all about confidence, Pete," Jane states without doubt, then goes to check out Elle. "I'd have brought out fresh pants already, but didn't want to be getting into your gear without permission, when I knew you'd soon be up and walking."

Though he's trying his best to consentrate, Peter can't quite get the same exact emotion that he's wanting to get. It's not easy. Maybe he had felt something different he didn't think he felt. But the glass is not turning gold. It's still a glass. "Maybe I should go home… practice a little on my own." He looks at the young woman, suddenly worried about even touching her. Even if she believes in him… it's hard to trust himself right now.

Elle looks concerned, as she looks back at Pete. Her pants, or lack thereof, isn't so much an issue at the moment. "All right…but call me, okay? Tomorrow?" she says, making it a question, but not so much one that's willing to take no for an answer.

She knows her things are mostly done with no one watching her, when she's able to focus and work at the mechanics of them, so Jane doesn't dispute the Petrelli brother closest to her own age in his desire for privacy while working it out. Beyond that, he loves Elle, so she's not concerned he'll avoid pulling it together to get the handle on transmutation. "See you, Pete," she replies simply. "Chin up. Confidence."

"I'll call you and say good night and good morning both," Peter assures, putting the glass down, though it retains it's transparent glass-ness and doesn't turn gold. It could be he's just so terrified of using it that he can't focus enough to do it. As he moves towards the door, he opens it, and looks glad when he doesn't see it turn to gold, and then exits quietly. He will call… as long as he doesn't turn his cellphone to gold.

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