2010-08-18: Stalking



Date: August 18, 2010


When Sean O'Brien hears that his dead girlfriend is not quite so dead, he decides to come back to finish the job, only to find things have changed.


Sean O'Brien has been in the city for two weeks.

He took an extended vacation from his job on the Boston Police because a collegue mentioned that he saw Yvette in New York City. If it weren't for the photo he snapped on his iPhone, Sean would have told him that he was full of shit.

There are several questions that Sean has about his fiance. One is how she survived. He could have sworn he killed her, even if it were by accident. The bitch was going to turn down his marriage proposal and leave him cause she couldn't take a slap now and then, even when she deserved it? He also wonders why no one has come looking for him. Maybe she's still as spineless as she's ever been, afraid to turn him in.

Well, he's not going to give her the chance to.

Two weeks and he's finally got a lead on her. Walking down the street, he's hoping this'll pan out. He's going to finish what he started. Yvette will be sorry that she didn't die. She's not going to fuck up his career.

Morgan Gale's in the midst of a transformation — again. She'd found a job. Two days before Erin announced she was moving, offering Morgan a place to stay, but Morgan didn't want to leave now that she actually felt she was being useful. Now the job is all she has, but it keeps her from feeling lonely.

After all, it's hard to feel lonely when you have 300 animals in your care at a given moment.

Despite lacking any "official" experience with animals or the like, Morgan had landed a job as the administrative manager of a private non-profit, no-kill shelter in Brooklyn. It doesn't pay well and it often smells bad, but she loves it. The actual work part entails scheduling the volunteers and the vets and running the adoption papers for the animals when they find "forever homes." Morgan feels like she's found hers, at least, at the shelter.

It's closing time, so after making the rounds to say goodbye to her charges, Morgan calls her goodbye to the night-shift vet and locks the doors behind her to begin the four-block walk to her new studio apartment.


It's really her.

His lead brings him to this shelter and with God as his witness, it's like he's seen a ghost or saw someone rise from the dead. Slipping from the shadows, he begins to follow, though he doesn't get too close. All Sean needs is for her to start screaming bloody murder when she sees him. He's surprised that she only has to walk four blocks to her place. What he doesn't care for is that she lives in an apartment complex. He's going to have to find a way to get her out of there and somewhere less.. nosey. He's already taken two weeks just to track her down, so he's not going to be able to waste too much time. He bolts around the corner to see if he can spot which apartment is hers.

The willowy blonde walks with a long stride and tall posture, something "Yvette" never had. She's dressed differently, as well — Yvette had always preferred sweet pastels, florals, girly dresses. Morgan, on the other hand, is in tight black skinny jeans that show off her long legs, a pair of red espadrilles that bring her height up to nearly six feet, and a snug red blouse — black and red, a combination Yvette probably never wore.

As Morgan nears the apartment building, the door swings open, and an elderly man walking a little terrier steps out. "Miss Gale, good evening!" the man says cheerfully as Morgan bends to pet the little black dog, pulling a kibble bit from her pocket to offer the pooch.

"And a good evening to you, Mr. Jodfrey," she says with a bright smile. She is no longer a shrinking violet. She steps into the building, moving to the stairs to head to the second floor, to apartment 203.

Sean watches her for a long moment. She looks like she's gained a little confidence in her short time away from him. That won't take long to fix, he assures himself with a wicked smirk on his face. He slips into the building before the door closes all the way and follows from as distance as she walks up the stairs and she goes into the apartment '203'.

Knowing he can't stay in New York forever, it's time to deal with this and deal with it now. He looks down the length of the hallway before moving in front of her door. He raps his knuckles against the wood, waiting for her to answer, ready to smack her the moment she tries to scream.

In her prior life as Morgan Starr, she knew better than to open the door to strangers — but the past couple of weeks, she's been growing in confidence and trust. The people in this building are closeknit, and have brought her cookies and coffee and flowers and welcome gifts. She's the only single woman among several retired couples, who seem to think she needs looking after. So it is without any worry or suspicion that she opens the door to Sean.

What is most evident and surprising is the absolute lack of recognition or fear in her dark green eyes. "Can I help you?" she asks, smiling politely, leaning her head against the door.

Sean O'Brien knows when he's been made. Especially as a cop. The signs are there. The sudden change in demeanor, the shifting away, the darting of eyes to somewhere other than at him and the stiffening of muscles.

From the way that this woman looks at him, Sean O'Brien has not been made.

His demeanor shifts dramatically and looks almost sheepish. "I'm sorry, I was looking for my grandmother's apartment. I thought she said it was 203. Perhaps she got confused and it's 302. I'm sorry to have bothered you." He starts to turn away then looks at her, "You look familiar to me. Have we met before?"

The tall blonde smiles at his apology. "Oh, no problem. What's your grandmother's name? I know pretty much everyone in the building. I can probably help you out," she says, eager to be helpful. "302 is Mrs. Naguri's so I don't think that's your grandmother's apartment, but I mean, that might be making assumptions on my part." He certainly doesn't look partially-Japanese to her, but he could be adopted. "I know that Mrs. Hansen in Apartment 405 has a lot of grandchildren I haven't met. Most of them out of town, poor thing."

At the question of if she looks familiar, she shakes her head, though somewhere in her there's a slight flicker of fear. The body she is in had a life before she owned it. They probably should have found someone from further away — or maybe it's she who should move far away. "No, I think I'd remember you," Morgan says, making it sound complimentary.

He's watching her every move, just in case she does recognize him and he has to take action, but damn if she just doesn't seem to know him at all. There was that brief flicker, but could be the case of someone seeing a stranger. It would be far more of a fearful look if she did recognize him.

"I'm Sean. Sean Hansen." Since she was kind enough to give him an out. "405, you say? Thanks." He starts to walk off, then turns back to her. "It was nice to meet you.." then he pauses, as if waiting for her to say who she is.

For Sean, this is almost too good to be true, but he can't be certain. He doesn't need unnecessary blood on his hands. Either this isn't Yvette, or she has amnesia or something. He'll keep an eye on her for a bit.

You can't be too careful.

"Morgan," she says, though she doesn't add the last name. It still sounds wrong to her. "Hold on just a moment. I have something for your grandma, if you're heading up that way." She leaves the door ajar, heading back into her apartment to the kitchenette, easily visible from the door. A moment later she returns, a plate of cookies in hand. "Make sure you don't eat all of them on the way, now," Morgan says playfully. "And don't tell her they're from pre-made dough. Mr. Jodfrey's grandson had a fundraiser. I can't bake to save my life, but those things are already in little perfect measured cookies, all you have to do is turn on the oven. Let her think I learned something the last time she tried to teach me how to cook."

Morgan? "Nice to meet you, Morgan." He walks back and takes the plate and nods with a smile. Probably the same charming smile that Yvette was wooed by when they first met. "You're secret's safe with me. Sorry again to have bothered you."

He turns towards the stairs, disappearing behind the door, but instead of going up, he heads back down. He's not going to be able to play the Hansen's grandson for very long, but until he gets to the bottom of this, he's got no choice. He eyes the plate of cookies and takes one, shoving a few more into his pocket before tossing the plate into the dumpster as he reaches the alleyway.

He'll be back.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License