2007-03-11: What Is It With Heroes Stealing Pants?


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Summary: Peter and Elle wake up the morning after their really long day of breaking out and facing Sylar. And Peter really needs a new pair of pants since his Company clothes got stained due to hugging his bloodied niece.

Date It Happened: March 11, 2007

What Is It With Heroes Stealing Pants?

Hotel Room

In short, the day before had been a long, exhausting roller coaster for Peter. Between using abilities for the first time in a while, the stress of trying to escape with himself, and someone he cares about intact, likely leaving behind his brother and wouldbe rescuers, the reunion with Sylar and even more emotional reunion with Claire… he crashed soon after cleaning up. The shirt he'd wore lays over the counter, because the blood would stain furniture or carpet, or the sheets of the bed. The loose pants the Company provided avoided most of the blood, and that's what he wears under the covers of the double bed. Next to his bed sit a few personal possessions, the book she'd let him borrow, the picture he no longer needs to hide, and the envelope of cash he'd "borrowed" from the mansion. His eyes are shut, head resting on the pillow, and definitely lingering in the land of sleep. If allowed, he might even sleep right up to housekeeping knocking on the door.

Not begrudging Peter first dibs on a shower, Elle watches some Simpsons while he gets cleaned up. The coat she'd been lent is carefully folded on the bed next to her, stylish boots kicked off and socks removed so her bare, neon-pink painted toenails are visible. Once the boy finishes, she smiles on her way past him, closing the door and indulging in a long soak. By the time she came back out, Pete is passed out on his bed. Rolling her eyes a little, she pulls the covers up over him and kisses his cheek before heading over towards her own bed. It's hours later that she stirs, woken perhaps from a bad dream and eyes the bed across the way. As stealthily as she can manage, she slips out of her bed and into Peter's, spooning him from behind. Calmed, she finds herself fast asleep again, until housekeeping is knocking on the door.

Even the warm presence in his bed didn't wake him right away. In fact, it may have even soothed Peter into remaining fast asleep. But the knock on the door and the soft woman's voice pulls him out of the comforted sleep. Feeling Elle against him, though, delays him. A hand slides up to touch the arm wrapped around him, lingering there as opposed to pushing her away. It's the next warning knock, followed by sounds of the card key on the door that makes him push her arm finally and slide out of her grasp, and the covers. The chain keeps the woman from getting in, and he says in a hoarse voice, "Come back later, thank you." Once the door is closed firmly again, he turns to look back at the bed.

Elle doesn't stir until Peter speaks. Eyes blinking open, she looks like she's lost for a few seconds, trying to figure out where she is. The past day's events hitting her, she lays back on her pillow and sighs, glancing aside to the man next to her. Self-consciously, she tightens up her hotel robe, but manages a lazy smile, "Hey sunshine. What's for breakfast?" Then, a little more seriously: "What's the plan? We should probably check in with your mother, see if Nathan has turned up. The Company might have let him go by now."

Unfortunately, the only thing in their room happens to be a coffee machine. No stocked refrigerator, or anything of the like, and Peter's stomach certainly regrets that at the mention of food. The last time he'd ate would have been his last feeding in the facility. Settling on the edge of the bed nearby, he fidgets by way of tugging on the sheet, while he nods. "I'll call mom, yeah. Then we'll need to get some clothes and figure things out— Where we'll stay and— everything." There's a lot to do, and he's not confident that he'll be able to do anything. But what she said… "Is that what they normally do? Let people go?"

"With the not so dangerous ones? Yeah. Your brother is a fly-boy… he can't really hurt anyone with that," Elle points out, sitting up with her back against the pillows of the bed. She's aware of what she just implied with her words and is quick to add, "Yes, you are dangerous, but that doesn't mean you should be locked up. I said you had a good heart and I meant it." Then, quietly, "Standard procedure is bagging and tagging, so we can track them. He might get a visit with the Haitian if they think he knows something he shouldn't."

The quick addition might be the only thing keeping Peter from retreating emotionally into a corner. Even then, there'd been a mild flinch, visible around his eyes and forehead, with the implication. That softens with the addition, and draws his eyes back towards her. "I remember, the marks on the neck." His voice remains subdued, even as he continues, "They won't keep him as— something to use to make me go back? Hostage, or— They won't just let me stay free, will they?"

Not entirely clueless, Elle watches Peter a few silent moments before she slides up behind him on the bed. Pressing herself against him and hugging him from behind, thusly unfairly using her feminine wiles on him, she says, "You can be as strong as you want to be. And you're going to have to be pretty strong because yesterday was an indicator? There's a lot of people who are going to be relying on you." She's silent a few more seconds before replying to his last question, "I don't know. But you know where Nathan is. And if they don't release him and they move him instead? I know a way for us to find him."

Feminine wiles certainly have an effect. The hand that fidgets at the blankets stops, lifting up again to touch the arms around him. Peter returns the hold, even if just by touching the arm, and then noticeably leans back against her. "Thank you," he says, a soft and almost breathy tone. "For yesterday— for this morning. Wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you, Elle." There's a slow and deep breath, before he seeks out her hand, to grasp that as well. "You— need to be careful. Might not just come looking for me. Doubt your father will let you go." Though he doesn't say everything, the way he grasps at her hand afterwards might give her a hint to where that might have gone.

"I can't go back to him with less Sylar hog-tied on a roasting spit with a bow, Pete. You heard what Bennet said. My father probably hates me now." Augh. Elle shudders a little just thinking about it. Yes, she cares what Bob thinks of her, regardless of whatever abuse she may have suffered at the Company's hands because of him. "Anyway. It doesn't matter. And I'll be safe with you around, right? So let's get food and some new clothes. Some disposable cell phones would probably be a good idea, too. Then we can call your mom and figure out what to do next."

"I doubt he hates you, Elle," Peter says softly, catching her reaction and knowing how it felt to have a strained relationship with your father. Even when he went against his father's wishes, he never thought the man hated him. Disappointment and hate are different things. "We'll be safe around each other," he concedes with a nod, staying there for a moment, even as she lays out a plan that could take most the afternoon, if not most the day. Figuring out what to do, after all, might take some time. When he finally stops just leaning against her, he keeps hold of her hand even as he begins to move to stand, "Let's get something to eat first. I'm starving."

Elle smiles at that last bit and swings her legs over as Peter gets up. She lets herself get drawn to her feet before glancing about the room. "We could probably gank some clothes from the laundry room… if you didn't want to go out walking around in that." She indicates the hospital garb he's got on before moving over to her own neatly folded pile of clothes. The robe she's wearing is slipped off her shoulders and dropped, giving the man a good view of her neon blue girly underclothing. She doesn't act self-conscious about it though and just starts pulling on her clothes. Shirt first and then pants. "I want one of those vegetarian sandwiches from that sub-place down a couple blocks."

"I might have to…" is about as far as Peter gets, having let go of her hand so she could slip away and get her clothes. He'd been glancing back towards her, when she lets the robe slide of. The cut off in his voice also leads to the cut off of all movement, really. It takes him a moment before he remembers to politely look away, reaching for his blood stained shirt and putting it on. Of course he's now facing a mirror, so that makes the turning away thing almost not polite either. Instead choosing to focus on the counter, he responds, "Sounds like a good idea." This would have normally brought about conversationable questions, but she managed to pretty much zap his brain without even trying.

"We're not too far from Chinatown, we could probably get some pretty cheap clothes there… unless you wanted to go more stylin'" Elle teases, fixing the clasp on her pants now and ending Peter's immediate embarrassment of having to see her GIRLFORMZOMG. She gives him a coy smile and starts to pull on her socks and then her boots, lacing them up. "Thank God for New York City, right? Plenty of shopping to be had." Suited up, so to speak, she stands and heads for the bathroom, touching her hair. "I'll just be a minute." The door is shut behind her.

Not necessarily embarrassment— all right, it was embarrassment. "We can go wherever; I just need something that doesn't have blood on it, really." Peter runs a hand over his short hair, which requires very little in the form of maintenance right now thanks to her scissors, putting on a pair of socks and the shoes first, while she retreats into the bathroom. Giving her the time she needs, he grabs the coat and pulls that back around him. Though blood stained there as well, the darker and thick fabric of the coat hides that so much better than the light colored thin shirt he'd worn. Though the door might muffle his voice, he still speaks to her once she disappears inside, "Did you mean what you said before?" She'll have a few moments to respond to that, before he goes ahead and continues, walking towards the bedside, where he picks up the personal belongings and begins stashing them in the interior pockets. What she said before? "When you said you think you might love me— did you mean that?"

Elle is quiet after Peter asks his question. She's got a hairbrush and is trying to comb out her hair into something approaching decent. "Maybe we should just… you know… focus on not getting captured?" Eying her hair with a frown, she shrugs and tosses the brush down on the counter, opening the door and heading back out into the room proper. "I'm not saying no. I'm just saying… it wouldn't hurt to wait til we can breathe safely."

Fixing the buttons of the borrowed coat closed — probably one of Nathan's coats, by the looks of things — Peter has a serious expression on his face when she returns into the room, absently pushing the buttons in place. A few moments after she speaks inside the room, he nods, letting his hand drop down to his sleeve to push the cuff into place. "You're right. Just—" Whatever he'd been planning to say cuts off, replaced a moment later by something else entirely. "We can talk about this later," he finishes, lips twitching towards the hint of a smile before he inhales deeply, as if preparing himself. "Ready?"

Elle toys with the sleeves of her shirt and nods, grabbing her coat off the bed and pulling it on. "I was born ready," she says with some of that trademark confidence she has. "The laundry room is probably in the basement, that's where we should go first." She steps up behind him and checks herself one last time in the mirror in passing.

"You know, I'm not a thief…" Peter says, shaking his head a bit, though he also catches that glance towards the mirror. As he opens the door, the corners of his mouth twitch into a more genuine form of a smile. "You don't have to keep looking. You looked gorgeous straight out of bed." From the sound of it, he definitely means the compliment.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," is Elle's snappy reply, stepping through the door and heading down the hall for the staircase. "And, I know you aren't. It's survival of the fittest, Pete. We have to do what we have to and that means laying low. And, coincidentally, its really the only way we'll get your brother and anyone else who was captured trying to help him out of that place if they insist on holding them."

After checking to make sure his key is also in the pocket, Peter closes the door behind them and follows after, moving up close enough to be just behind her, off to the side. Letting her lead the way, it would seem. "That's different. Freeing my brother and anyone who went with him is different than taking some innocent guy's pants. But I'd rather not get grabbed off the street by the police, either, because of blood on my clothes." It means he'll take the pants and shirt, but it also means that he'll slip some cash into a pair of pants in the same load. It's not so much stealing, in that case.

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