Blacklight S2 (R)

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

The rest of the vacation went by painfully slow, Elijah spending most of it tucked in bed counting the speckles on his ceiling and trying to force any thoughts of Emma from his mind.

…Not like that had gone successfully.

“Elijah!” A voice rang, fist pounding on the door. Of course; because it was impossible to get a moment of privacy in this house.
His lips clenched together as he momentarily stopped shoving clothes angrily in his suitcase. “What the hell do you want?”
The pudgy man slipped through the slit in the door, hands crossed behind his back remorsefully. “Did you and Emma break up or something?”
“Because that wasn’t painfully obvious when she stormed out of the house in the middle of the day with no word to anyone,” he muttered, throwing a t-shirt into the case.

“What happened?” Rylee questioned, unresponsive to his bitterness.
“Not in the mood.”
“You seemed like you really liked her,” he continued. “I don’t believe you just stopped liking each other. I may not know a shitload about love, but that much is obvious.”
Elijah’s touched Emma’s ring, now strung onto the chain that held his dog tags, before narrowing his eyes at him. “I did -- I do.”
“Then what? Why aren’t you two together?”

“Because it’s better off that way, okay?” Elijah hissed. “My mother was right. I’m incapable of loving anybody. I tried. I failed. And that’s it. Now get out.”
Silence hung heavy in the room for so long he actually glanced over his shoulder to make sure the little shit had left.

He hadn’t.

“Why are you still here?” Elijah continued, voice sharp.
“Because it’s alarming how obvious it is that you don’t even believe your own words. You’re just scared, dude. Everyone gets scared. It’s human nature. Doesn’t mean you should give up on a great girl that obviously loves you no matter how much of a dick you are. I—I mean, shit happens, sometimes things don’t work out, but at least you did everything in your power to make sure it lasted as long as it could.”

Elijah’s fingers, which had been tightly gripping one of his sweat pants, gradually loosened, his eyes zoning in on Rylee’s as the obnoxious, awkward step-cousin suddenly sounded like the next love guru. He wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or amused.

“That sounds scarily intelligent of you,” Elijah mused.
His face lit up instantly before gasping, “Really? Why, thank you. I’ve been reading the Cosmopolitan a lot lately.”
Elijah blinked at him before furrowing his eyebrows together. “Isn’t that a woman’s magazine?”
The younger man instantly straightened up before letting out a tiny cough. “Well, the chicks in those things are hot, so—“
He raised his hands, the tiniest smile perking at the corners of his lips. “Aye, I'm not judging.”

Rylee scratched behind his ear before nodding. “Anyways, um, why does she hate you right now anyways? I know chicks are mad bipolar, but…”
“She thinks I cheated,” Elijah replied casually while folding a pair of jeans.
“What?” He noisily took in air. “Did you—”
“Of course not,” Elijah sighed.

“What the fuck, man! We have to go tell her right now!” His fingers curled around the door but Elijah shot up to him as quickly as he had attempted to exit the room.
“She can’t know, Rylee.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s best for the both of us if she hates me. That way, she can get over me and I can try to get over her. At least until I figure out what the hell I want out of life.”
“B-But you guys are so perf—”
Elijah closed in on him. “Swear to me you won’t say a word.”

Their eyes burned into each other’s for a thirty seconds at best until Rylee was nodding in defeat. “Fine.”
Elijah backed off before returning to his suit case. “It’s for the best,” he murmured under his breath, as if trying to convince himself.

It was.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

Blood splattered across the graffiti covered wall, vivid and bright against the images painted there. The echo of cracking bone rung out on the second hit, much to Emma’s joy.
“You fucking bitch!” Tall, dark, and idiotic groaned loudly, holding his bustled nose between his meaty hands.
A cruel smile curled at her lips, “Did I hurt you? Naw, I’m so sorry. When you rob and beat an old shop keeper half to death, I’ll be sure to tickle you with a feather next time.” Not that she had any intention of letting there be another time.

A glint of something caught her attention - the knife in his hand momentarily captured the light from the overhanging street light. The same knife he’d used on the poor unsuspecting elderly man now bleeding to death on his shop floor.

Emma and Ryan had been heading up toward the upper Upper Quarter, setting out in search of a new Chinese take out place that had recently opened, when they’d caught sight of the commotion breaking out in the small jewellery store. Two men had run from the scene and instantly Emma and Ryan had taken after them.
Emma had caught one of them within the first block, Ryan had carried on after the other.

“I’m going to cut that pretty little face of yours to pieces,” Red stained teeth grinned at her as the blade caught the light once more. “You won’t be pretty then, babycakes.”
The blade whizzed through the air, slicing through the space where she’d been not a millisecond before. If there was one thing Emma had always been, it was quick. She dodged the knife with graceful ease, the whistle of the blade passing by her face again and again, missing her by centimetres.

Within a minute since the knife dance had begun, she noticed the lag in his arm, gradually slowly to a pace she could more than effortlessly keep up with.
Enough playing.
Emma moved quickly, her hand darting out to capture his wrist and tugging down with all the strength she had, forcing his body to arch downward; next she used the elbow of her free arm and slammed it into his broken nose, sending him staggering backwards, a howl of nothing but pure pain booming through the alley.

He hit the floor like a sack of rocks, his large bulky form making the ground beneath her feet vibrate with the force of the fall.
Passed out from the pain? What a bruiser.
Emma shook her head and kicked at his large boot. Nothing, not even a groan.

“Jesus Christ, Em, you weren’t supposed to kill him, you know?”
Ryan materialised from the darkness, the limp form of the second man slung over his right shoulder.
She frowned. “If you call breaking his nose killing him.”
He regarded the unconscious thug with a tiny grimace. “He’s covered in blood.”
“He’s lucky that’s all he got.”
With a light sigh, Ryan flipped his phone from his pocket and called the two men in. When he hung up he turned his stern green gaze on to her. “You can’t keep taking your mood out on them, Emma. It’s making you look batshit crazy.”
She folded her arms tightly across her chest (and the ache that resided there). “I am batshit crazy, Ryan. Everyone knows that.”
“No, you’re not. You’re hurting right now, that’s all, but you’re letting it control you.”

Flashing lights stopped Emma from answering, the bright red and blue flashes indicating that the cops had arrived.
Ryan filled them in, flashed his badge to confirm who he was and tossed his load into the back seat of the cruiser.

“Nice job,” One of the policemen complimented as Ryan moved to stand beside Emma – something he was doing a lot of since she’d gotten back from D-37. “We normally would have gotten these bastards ourselves… but everyone is freaking the fuck out back at HQ with this president shit going on.”
“The visit?” Ryan inquired, “He’s meant to be here tomorrow, right?”
“Meant being the word here. Haven’t you heard? The car that was carrying him suddenly vanished between D-77 and D-78, without so much of a trace, just poof, gone. All the security vehicles, too. The mayors having kittens.”
“You mean he’s missing?” Emma asked, her frown deepening. “How can you suddenly lose the president of the North? He’s not a set of freaking car keys.”
“Every spare cop in a twelve district radius is on the case. They’ll find him… hopefully.”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

“Text me when you land,” his father gruffly advised, a tiny grin stretching across his lips as he patted his son on the shoulder firmly.
For days without end he had wanted more than anything to return to D-79, but then realization struck and he came to terms with the fact she’d never want to speak to him again. It was funny almost, how they were coming full circle to the day they had met; two people that didn’t want to be in the presence of the other. Of course they didn’t want to gut the other like they used to (although he truly couldn’t speak for Emma), the undeniable tension would be nearly unbearable.

It was ridiculously easy to dislike someone to a point of pretending not to acknowledge each other’s existence, but when it came to having serious history with that person, only to be forced to live together in awkwardness... that was completely different.

Everyone had their turns at wishing him goodbye, Uncle Sawyer even managing to slip a card that contained two hundred dollars in his back pocket discreetly. Since he was young, his father’s brother always enjoyed showering him in gifts like it was his duty – not like Elijah ever complained.

And at five minutes prior to seven at night, he had made it halfway out the door before a pair of feet were clunking down the stairs in a raucous manner, a voice yelling, “WAIT FOR ME!”
Elijah whirled around in surprise to see the stout young man wave him down, managing to nearly trip over his own feet in the process.
“Rylee, where are you going?” Vivian questioned, arms folded over her chest curiously.
“With Elijah, mom! I wanna see the North!” he exclaimed, much to his horror. Even if they were on better terms after the debacle in his bedroom, that didn’t mean he wanted to travel nearly three hundred miles with the brat. And even if there was the slimmest possibility he could go; where the hell would he go after they landed? There was no way in hell he’d be living at the agency!

“Absolutely not,” he responded firmly.
“Why nooooot? I won’t bother you! It’s like I won’t even exist!” Rylee exclaimed.
“But you do. And I imagined the only saving grace of my trip back home would be the peace and quiet before walking into the eye of a hurricane.”
He pressed his hands together before whispering, “I’m begging you. C’mon! I’ve never left this small town in my entire life and it’d mean so, so, so much.”
“You don’t have a plane ticket.”
“I…actually bought one two days ago.”
“What the fuck? Why?"
"Because I wanted to go to D-79, duh."
"Well, what if I said no?"
“You didn’t, did you? So it doesn’t matter. But anyways, bye mom, dad! Bye Uncle Trista and Randy!”

With that, he darted out the door, as if Elijah would change his mind in a millisecond, before hopping on the back of his motorcycle parked on the driveway.
Elijah lagged by the door, letting out a puff of air.
“Pick it up! Our flight leaves in an hour!”

“Fuck my life,” he muttered to himself, “Fuck it.”

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

The streets were packed with bewildered citizens, filtering gradually toward the city hall. The mayor had sent out an announcement ten minutes earlier, calling anyone who was interested in news on the president to the city centre. Ryan and Emma had followed along with the crowd, only to come across Sol as they passed by the agency.

“Have you heard?” She asked, zipping up her leather jacket. “The presidents been kidnapped – right from under the nose of four security cars, can you believe it?”
Emma crossed her arms. “That’s it, no. How can someone as important as our president vanish like that, without a trace?”
“I wonder if there’s any witnesses,” Ryan mused, solemn gaze stretched out ahead of them. “Something tells me there won’t be.”
“Oh yea, Grumps?” Sol bounded to his other side. “What makes you say that?”
He shrugged, “A feeling, I suppose.”
“Well, Jesus Christ, who knew? Ryan is now a freaking physic.”
“And you’re a pain in the fucking ass, but everyone knew that already.”
“Hey!” One slender finger poked at his arm before she paused for a moment, her gaze shooting skyward in thought. “Oh wait, yea! Everyone does know, you’re right. See that in your crystal ball, too?”
Ryan’s jaw tightened. “Don’t you shut up, even for a second? Your voice is as annoying as hell.”
“Well, you’re not exactly…”

The rest of their argument trailed off in Emma’s mind; she had no interest in their petty arguments, especially with the way she currently felt.

Everything reminded her of him. God damn everything.
Being around Sol and Ryan didn’t help matters either; seeing their faces only forced her to think of him more – his smart ass comments that he constantly shot at the two of them (always sharp and to the point), then how he’d make sure to position himself between her and Ryan, whether he did it on purpose or not, Emma wasn’t entirely sure. It was the small things she’d grown so accustomed too.

The closer they got to city hall, the louder Henry Hoffman’s voice boomed through the air.
“…not panic, good citizens of D-79! Yes, the Northern President is currently missing, but this will be resolved shortly.”
Emma shook her head, pushing the thoughts of Elijah from her mind. Or, at least, tried to. “Hoffman’s speeches drive me insane,” She groaned as they found a place on the outskirts of the continuously growing crowd. Images of the overweight mayor were plastered onto large hologram screens to their sides for everyone to see – how considerate of him.

He raised his arms out in front of him, “At exactly 7:46 this evening, the tracking system of the presidents car was destroyed by an unknown source, shortly followed by an attack on his security vehicles. All four were run off the road, with seven guards killed, one seriously injured – we’re hoping to gather information from him, but at the present moment that’s looking very unlikely. He’s in a bad way. Since the incident happened on the quiet roads between 77-78, there are no witnesses...”
“Told you.” Ryan murmured.
“There was no trace of the president’s car anywhere, but with the help of our police force the problem will be resolved as swiftly as possible. Do not panic, dear citizens, it will do no good.”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah had been jolted to consciousness by the sharp impact of wheels hitting tar, the flight attendant monotonously announcing, “Attention; we have landed. I repeat, we have landed. Do not rise until we advise you to, please.”
A sputter of air escaped his lips, hands briefly running through his hair, until his eyes were gradually cracking open, the brilliant lights of the plane causing him to blink several times in irritation. It had felt like just five minutes ago they were taking off into the sky, straight for the lively northern region of D-79.

Rylee’s head was tilted on his shoulder, mouth wide open as obnoxious snores escaped his throat. Elijah slightly cringed before pushing him off of him, just for the younger man to leap against the confines of his seat belt, hands curled up into fists in front of his face.
“I CAN FIGHT!” he exclaimed, causing the entire cabin to zone in on his frazzled and extremely alarmed cousin.
Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose momentarily before hissing at him, “For fucks sake! Get a grip!”
“I’m sorry! You can’t just pull a sneak attack like that! I get...nervous.”
“Just a step cousin; it’s just marriage,” Elijah murmured to himself over and over until the attendant, clad in dark pants and a matching blazer, gave the cue for everyone to exit the plane.

It was pitch black outside, although cars still clogged the compact parking lot, hundred of bodies entering and exiting the terminal. Some vehicles hovered in the air, a metal road looping into the sky for those who lived several hundred yards off the ground. Elijah and Rylee had taken the Altum Highway; a network of wide roadways that led to every possible location in D-79. Teleportation chambers lined the busy streets, a vivid green light scanning the specialized cards of those who were willing to spend a fortune on the elimination of vehicles from their lives.
He had never been the one to be particularly interested in the feature, always wanting to explore the world for what it was.

“So where the hell am I taking you?” Elijah questioned once his bike was rapidly approaching the dark tunnel of the Underground to begin their dark descent.
“I don’t know…” he trailed uncertainly.
Elijah forced himself to smile, sparing a glance at him before asking, calmly, again, “We agreed I wouldn’t be taking care of you. Now, where are you going?”
“I have no idea!” Rylee exclaimed again, causing his final fuse to blow after being ridiculously patient with the annoying piece of shit.

Since when had he ever had a fuse?
Ever?
Unfortunately Rylee was on the receiving end of his flurried emotions lately.

Elijah roughly pulled the bike out of the main lane and onto the curb before stopping abruptly.
“Get off.”
“W-What?”
“Get off.”
“We’re on the highway!”
“Since you don’t know where you’re going, how about you take a walk and figure that out? Then, after that, I’m sure you can flag down a ride or something; just make sure it isn’t with, y'know, a serial killer. Vivian’s still bitter about your childhood.” With that, he grabbed Rylee’s suitcase, throwing it several yards out to the median dividing the large road.
“E-Eli! Shit! That has my laptop in it! I’m sorry!”
“Do you know where you’re going? Because if you did, maybe I could give you a ride. If you don't, piss off and stop wasting my time.”
“A hotel!” he exclaimed. “I don’t even care which one! Hell, just give me something! Anything!”

Elijah couldn’t help but snicker before shrugging. “Get your shit.”
“You won’t drive off right?”
“Of course not.”

Rylee nodded before sliding off of the backseat and over to where his bags (which he hadn’t thought to place in a microchip) rested on the ground, hurriedly scooping them up in his arms.

Elijah gunned the engine, bike shooting forward several feet.

“Eli!” his cousin shouted again. “C’mon! This isn’t funny!”
“To you, nah, but to me?” He flashed him a tiny grin, although his bike now remained still.
Rylee had ran like there was no tomorrow at the open opportunity to hop back onto the motorcycle, slinging his body on it messily, his duffel bag nearly falling off his wide frame in the process as he panted wildly.
“Right, so a hotel anywhere correct?”
“Yes! Fucking yes!” Rylee exclaimed.

Elijah shot back onto the road. “Now that was easy, wasn’t it?”

Rylee ignored him for the rest of the ride.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

The elevator doors slid open to the penthouse, the bright lights of the busy and bustling city below the only source of light through the windows, illuminating the dark room in a range of colours
Emma strolled in behind Ryan and Sol, her attention locked onto the sofa bed they’d up for Elijah earlier today. Who was coming home tonight.

She was ashamed to admit how much his silence hurt her – he hadn’t called her, not once, he’d never even tried, and most importantly he hadn’t come after her either.
It was pathetic.
Here she was, heart broken and hung up, and where was Elijah? Enjoying the rest of his vacation, probably finishing what he’d started with Skinny Suburban. The thought alone made her chest ache, forcing her to look away from the sofa.
“Anyone want a drink?” She asked as she headed toward the kitchen.

Dropping down onto the comforter, Sol spread out across the sofa bed just in time for the TV to come on. “Straight whisky for me, Emma, baby. That should help me sleep.”
“Coffee, please,” Ryan followed behind her, situating himself on the stool at the counter. His voice dropped a level only she could hear then, “Don’t do this to yourself. Go to bed.”
She switched on the coffee machine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Why do you want to see him?” He murmured with a frown. “It’s only going to make you feel worse. He always makes you feel worse. The guy is a complete dough-bag, Em, I’ve lost count with how many times I’ve told you that.”
“I don’t want to see him,” Emma stated, her tone as calm as she could possibly get it. “I’m making coffee, Ryan and you’re reading too much into it.”
“Am I? What do you think is going to happen?” He let out a deep sigh. “He hasn’t called you and he let you catch and plane and travel home from a strange place alone. He couldn’t give a crap about you.”

“Do you honestly think I don’t know this stuff already?!” Her fingers tightened around the mug in her hand. “I know he doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself, why do you insist on reminding me every damn second of the day?!”
“Emma, I-“
“Stop!” She spun around on her heels to face him, coffee forgotten. “Please, Ryan, just stop. I didn’t know it was possible, but talking to you makes me feel ten times more depressed than I already am. Do you actually want me to go hang myself or something?!”

Sol pushed up from the sofa. “You know, Grumps, Elijah isn’t as big of an ass-hole as you make him out to be. He was mad on Emma – probably still is. Sure, he kissed some chick, but maybe it was a mistake… like, he tripped and accidently fell onto her lips. It happens, you know.”
“Who are you kidding, Sol? Not even you can believe that load of shit.”
Her hands landed solidly onto her hips. “Um excuse me? I think I know Eli better than you do, and I know something is up here. There is no way in hell he would have just randomly shoved his tongue down some sluts throat – you didn’t hear him talking about Emma back in D-50. He’s in love, smitten, head-over-heels, besotted and all that jazz.”
“With himself more like.” Ryan finished.

Emma shook her head when Sol shot back her reply. Jesus, the back and forth the two of them had was getting more and more common by the day; they argued about anything and everything, from TV shows to what to have for dinner.
Placing the empty coffee cup onto the counter, Emma forgot the brewing machine and left for her bedroom. Ryan was right – she didn’t want to be around when Elijah got home.

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Nothing in this world could have prepared Elijah for that very moment, where his fingers, tightly gripping his identification card, hovered over the green pad as it scanned him in. He had saw to Rylee residing in the most decent hotel in the Underground of D-79 (which was few and far) until the morning came around and they could properly figure things out; after all, the brat was practically like a twelve year old in a twenty three year old body. There was no way in hell he could live in a neighborhood that posed even the most remote threat.

Elijah felt that his fear mostly came from the fact he had no idea what emotional state Emma would be in; he had made a promise to never hurt her (as unintentional as it was), and yet he did, without so much as a decent explanation to justify his actions. It caused his chest to throb uncontrollably, a tiny breath flitting past his lips as he watched the metal slab reveal the familiar living room, seemingly in the same state it had been prior to them leaving.

Elijah forced any and all emotion to leave his face though, form straightening as he cleared his throat.

Her back was facing him, palms pressed into the countertop as Ryan’s arm stretched around her shoulder. Elijah had no idea why his heart rate increased considerably, lips forming a line. Maybe she was moving on with her life; trying to forget him like the rest of her bitter memories.

Or nightmare – that seemed all the more accurate.

But why did he have such a hard time believing Emma would just jump to the next guy so easily? Only months ago, she had cringed at the touch of a man, even if it was as simple as a tiny gust of hot air on her cheek. Elijah had been the only one allowed to feel her in different ways; she wouldn’t—

She couldn’t have changed.

Elijah cleared his throat slightly, bags dropping to the ground. “Hey.” Hey? After everything, all he could say was fucking hey? He felt pathetic.
Ryan spared him a glance, eyes darkening as he said nothing.
Emma seemed to exchange a look with him, causing the dark-haired man to shrug before stalking off down the hallway, leaving them alone.

“Hi,” she muttered plainly, back facing him.
“Any coffee still in there?” he tried, trying to keep his tone even, hopeful.

Hopeful? Of what?
A friendship?
That she’d forget everything?

"Why don't you check and see for yourself?"
Elijah paused several moments before shrugging. “On second thought, I think I’ll just head to bed.”

Distance.

He started down the hallway, just to realize mid-stride all his things were on the couch where they belonged. Did he honestly think she’d let him share the room?
Bullshit.

“Well, actually, I guess it’s here…already?” Elijah muttered, dragging his bags back over to the couch and laying it by the coffee table. He said nothing as he removed his shirt, kicking it across the carpet flooring before plopping backwards on the cushion just to feel the stiffness against his already sore muscles.

RIP to his back tomorrow.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

”If I’d been half the man he was, my wife would have left me a week into our relationship,” If there was one thing Emma was learning about Ryan, it was how he loved to share his outlook on Elijah. “So, you just went to bed? He didn’t say anything else?”
“No.”
He ran a hand through his slick black hair in agitation. “It makes me so mad, Em.”
They separated to make room for a passing mother and pushchair on the small, narrow curb, earning them each a nod of gratitude – even the little girl waved, which in turn actually made Emma smile. Her first one that week.
She quickly caught herself, however, wiping it from her face as she met up along side Ryan once more. “Why?”

His dropped his head back to stare at the darkening digital sky. “I was like him, back before I met Sarah – a selfish, arrogant bastard, who didn’t care for anyone but himself – but she changed everything. I wanted to be with her forever, Emma. I wanted the wife, the picket fence, babies, even a damn dog and it was all taken away from me. Don’t you get how fucking maddening to it to watch Elijah throw something away that I crave every single day?”

Emma looked up to gaze at his profile. The hurt and pain she found there only made her chest ache more than it already did.
“Elijah doesn’t love me like you loved her – like you still do.” Ryan had more love for a dead woman than Elijah had for her. “I’m just… not his Sarah. Haven’t you thought about that?”
“Bullshit,” He scoffed. “And who is – Sol?”
“Sol’s a lesbian, Ryan.”
“I know that.”
Emma rolled her eyes, “Do you? Look, don’t hate him too much. I can, which right now, I really do. I mean, I’m in love with a man that seems to enjoy my pain. Were you like that with Sarah?”
His brows instantly drew together, “No.”
“Then don’t compare us to what you had with your wife – we’re no where near it.”
They were miles and miles and miles away from that.

Now, Emma was off the route to it completely.

She’d woken up – ‘waking’ would normally imply that someone had fallen asleep, something Emma definitely hadn’t done last night – at six, thrown on her work uniform and gone hunting for breakfast; Ryan had followed soon after.
“I’m thinking a breakfast burrito,” Emma mused aloud, crossing the road and earning herself a string of irritated beeps.
“I was hoping we’d –“
“EMMA! YOOHOO, EMMA!”
A frantic call cut Ryan off as they hit the curb on the other side. They glanced down one end of the street, then the other – Emma spotted the curly mop of hair a second too late. Arms wrapped around her in a vice grip, squeezing her tightly.
“I am sooo glad to see your face. Everyone here in this city is rude and mean.”
“Rylee?” Emma choked out, squirming uncomfortably in his arms. “Please, let go.”
“Ooops, sorry,” Rylee grinned, stepped away from her and righted his shirt. “I knew it was you.”
Emma rubbed at her arms. “What are you doing here?”
“Elijah brought me – speaking of!” He raised his hands up. “Have you seen him yet? Are you back together?”
“Rylee, I-“
He nodded at Ryan. “Who’s this guy?”
“This is Ryan, but –“
“Why are you with him and not with Elijah? Naww, shit, Em, have you moved on already? Noooooo, that’s not supposed to happen. Don’t do that. You have to like, properly talk to him first. Have you done that yet? You have to do that. Go do it now. Shall I call him? I’ll call him. Then we can all talk. It’ll be fun! We can -”
“Rylee!” She slapped a hand across his mouth, silencing him and saving herself from the pounding head ache already beginning to burn behind her eyes. “Shut up. We’re going to get breakfast, and you can come… if you don’t mention Elijah, okay?”
“But –“
“Shh! Do you want me to leave you here or not?”

He paused, eyes wide, for at least ten seconds before he slowly nodded.

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

“Looks like it’s just you and me, pal,” Sol mused while preparing them two steaming hot cups of coffee. Elijah had expected for the rest of the house, AKA Ryan and Emma, to dash off without so much as a word. He swore that prick had a thing for her, but forced himself not to get too hung up about it. After all, if she ever got together with him (as unlikely as that still was), that would be the largest downgrade of the century.

Because, c’mon, him versus Ryan? That wasn’t even competition.

Elijah nodded. “I didn’t even notice when they cut out. How come you’re not with them? Pretty sure you aren’t on Emma’s blacklist.”
She shrugged. “Apparently I’m not as forthcoming as her new male friend.”
He rolled his eyes. “What’s his story anyways?”
“Lost his wife…child, too. Then the FBI comes in and gives him a job to channel his anger.”
“Sounds dangerous,” he mused, accepting the cup with a small swig. They didn’t need any more potential psychopaths on the force.

“What really happened between the two of you?” Sol questioned abruptly, completely changing the direction of the conversation. “I know you would never intentionally destroy the only good thing you had without a reason. So have at it. Vent.”
How many times did he have to justify his actions to people? Elijah had been growing tired of reliving the story, the same emotions instigating his being. But the more and more he repeated it, the more he came to realize how prominent his own fears were. Elijah had thought those feeling of uncertainty had escaped as soon as he admitted his love for her, but now, out of nowhere, he still found himself doubting their relationship, in spite of how seemingly perfect it was. How scarily in tune they were.

“Fear, I guess,” he muttered. “All of a sudden I started believing I’d go to deep, feel too hard for her and get hurt in the end—”
“So like the selfish prick you are, you decided to hurt her first. That’s new.”
“I’m not made for this whole relationship thing, Sol,” he mused, paying no mind to her sarcasm as he stared down at the copper liquid of his coffee.
“Only so many times you can break her down,” she murmured, “before she decides that one day she’d be better off alone, or with someone else.”
“Maybe it’s best.”
“Or you’re convincing yourself it’s best.”
“No,” he replied surely, “I have issues, clearly. I’ve never tried to hide it from anyone, and I fucking bullshitted myself into believing I was capable of pursuing something as complex as a relationship. She has a better chance at happiness without me involved.”

He felt a pang rip through his chest at the shocking truth of his words, causing him to grit his teeth solemnly.

“And what about you? What about your quest to internal bliss?”
“Starts with myself,” he responded simply, “and in order to have a shot, I guess I have a shitload of figuring out to do.”

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

The word ‘Ready’ flashed green on the coaster in front of Emma, a second before Ryan’s and Rylee’s did the same. She flashed her order card across the surface and watched indifferently as her coffee appeared from beneath it, fresh and steamy.
“Dude, that is too cool for words.” Rylee lifted his mug to inspect his coaster. “How do they do that?”
“Don’t coffee shops back home do that as well?” Emma asked.
“No. They use waitresses – something about jobs and shit. I dunno. This is way cooler though.”

Ryan stirred the dark liquid within his cup, “Who the hell is this kid again?”
She noted when Rylee nudged his chair closer to her side, moving further away from Ryan. “This is Rylee, he’s Elijah’s cousin. What are you doing here anyway?” Emma shifted her hard stare onto the young man. “I don’t remember this in the plan.” Was Sadie in the plan either? Or Elijah shoving his tongue down her throat? Since when did not being in the plan count for anything?

When their food appeared from beneath the table top, Rylee tucked in to the fried food like a predator would its prey. “W-Wanted to c-come see the city. This f-food is soooo good.”
“And Elijah just took you here and what? Left you?”
He swallowed (thankfully) before he spoke next. “He dropped me off at the hotel and said he’d be back this morning. Not sure when though… maybe I should have asked.”
“How long are you here for?”
A fork full of bacon found its way into his mouth. “Dunno.”

Emma dropped her head into the palm of her hand and blew out a deep, agitated breath. Rylee was a nice guy and she wasn’t ashamed to admit that some part of her actually liked the young man, but he lacked something, something that would help him survive life in a city, especially D-79.

She ideally looked up at the screen in the corner of the room, only to see the news flashing up about the president. Still missing. Still no word.
And still the situation seemed suspicious; as Ryan was all too keen to point out time and time again.
“Looks like the Vice President is on his way,” Emma mused aloud as the image of the bearded middle-aged man appeared on the screen. “Just what this city needs.”
Rylee whistled low. “I saw that on the TV last night. Can you believe it? The president kidnapped! That’s insane. Think he’s dead.”
“Probably.” Ryan answered honestly.
“We don’t know that,” Emma said, shaking her head.

They finished their breakfast in silence, listening to the cocky grinning Vice President with diminishing interest. Jesus, was it possible for one man to talk so much crap? Apparently so. Duncan James didn’t know when to shut up.

When Emma pushed up from her seat, Rylee jolted to his feet and latched onto her arm. “Em, wait, where are you going?”
She looked down at his hand locked tightly onto her arm. “Back to the agency. I have work to do, Rylee.”
“Can we… well, can we hang out for a while? I don’t know where Elijah is and I’m not sure where I’m going.”
“Emma…” Ryan said sternly.
“Please, Em, I don’t know where the hell I am or where I’m going. I don’t even know where the agency is.”

She looked from one to the another, comparing the stern, stone cold glare of Ryan to Rylee’s puppy dog’s pleading eyes.
Emma sighed. “Fine, Rylee, we can hang out for a few hours, I’ll meet you back at the apartment later, Ryan. If I’m needed, call me.”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

The two had eventually migrated to the sofa, matching bowls of cereal in their hands as the newscaster monotonously went on about the vice president, Duncan James, coming to the underground metropolis of D-79 after parading through the suburban plains of the land above.
Sol had scrunched up her nose through the entire speech, muttering, “Christ, how many assholes can this city take? There’s gotta be a carrying capacity.”
Elijah shook his head, his spoon swirling in the milk. “Things don't look right. You’re telling me the president suddenly vanishes, this dick is elected as mayor miraculously, and the VP is visiting our town first out of all the huge places in the North?"
“Like a conspiracy?”
Elijah nodded, “It just doesn’t make sense. I have no idea what the hell is going on, but there has to be something binding them all together."
Sol spooned in the chocolate crisps, shrugging lightly. “Could be. Who know’s if the president is already dead?”

Elijah hadn’t been the one to give much of a damn when it came to politics, but the president of the Northern Sector had been a pretty level-headed man. There was no way in hell he’d ever agree to what Henry Hoffman was doing – uprooting households, imprisoning people for petty reasons, forcing the entire town to prostrate in his honor. Not even the president himself requested that much respect (although he doubted the citizens of D-79 had respect for the mayor at all) from his people.

“If he is, we’re screwed,” Elijah responded, “or at least for however long those pricks are in charge.”
Sol seemed to pause for several good seconds before turning to look at Elijah. “Do you think we could find him?” Her voice was indifferent.
“I guess it wouldn’t be impossible…just extremely hard with no leads whatsoever.”

What if they put all the energy into locating him just to find some decaying corpse? What if there were more to this, like the numerous, complex layers of an onion, than they initially thought? A lot was on the line.

“It wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot; I mean, how much longer can we possibly wait until this asshat imposes more serious changes? I’m surprised Landry hasn’t organized an assignment to figure this out.”
Elijah left the spoon in his mouth, idly watching the television screen as a nineteen year old boy was roughly escorted from his home, the police gutting him in the stomach before shoving him in the car. He then glanced at Sol, removing the piece of metal from his mouth and responding, “Well we’d need some sort of starting point.”
“That could be arranged.”
“And Landry’s approval.”
“Since when do you care?”
He shrugged. “It’s not like he’d say no.”
Sol scoffed lightly, but went on, “Shit here has been so boring lately, we need the excitement. Besides, you need to get your touch back! Emma's got you in this mood, and you need to get out of it. Won't help her, won't help you.”
“My touch?”
“Yep; that cocky, prideful, smart-mouthed Elijah that everyone hated to love. It did something for you; something special.”
He raised his brows in amusement. “Add ridiculously sexy, talented, and charming, darling.”
Sol slapped him on the shoulder although a genuine laugh escaping her throat. “That’s more like it.”

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

After a brief tour of the surrounding area, Rylee was all too eager to drag Emma up to his room in the hotel Elijah had dumped him in. It was hardly upscale, but it wasn’t unliveable either. Good enough, she supposed, for a young man who was used to living in his own filth.

Emma had just settled onto the corner of the large king size bed, when Rylee waved her over to the window, his laptop open on the table next to him. “You have to check this out, Em. It’s super awesome.”
The view from his window overlooked the main square nicely, the bright neon advertisements shinning brightly overheard, lighting up the room in what ever colour flashed up next.

“Great deals on Southern Holidays,” Emma read aloud, scanning the advertisement on the next building over. “Oh yes, Ry, that’s as awesome as they come.”
“Not that,” He laughed, shaking his head. “This.”
His fingers drummed over the keys of his laptop with lightening speed, direct and precise, his gaze intent as he followed the coded sequence on the screen. Rylee suddenly looked like a completely different guy – like a grown up almost. Then, with a victorious grin, he gave the keys one last tap and turned his attention back to the window.
“Check that one.”

The holiday ad faded before her eyes, only to be replaced by a grinning, winking image of none other then Rylee himself.
“’Young, free and single… come and get it, ladies?’ Rylee, what the hell?” Emma blinked at the young man, slightly dumbfounded. “Did you just program that to change?”
“Sure did!” Rylee’s smirk only widened. “I was playing around on it last night and came across the connection to the ads. It was piss easy. They didn’t even try to hide it!”
“But… you, how…” Emma ran a hand through her hair, baffled. “Can you do other things, as well?”
“Anything involving computers, sure. Hey, do you know that even the president gets spam? His emails are always filled to the brim with them.”

She paused, processing the young mans words. “I’m sorry – what?”
“Spam. You know what that is, right? Don’t you get them too?”
“Of course I do, and yea, sure I do, but –“
“Oh, hey!” Rylee cut her off and turned back to the computer screen. “I know just what to put on here next.”

How was this possible? How could someone like Rylee have the intelligence of a super computer genius? Hacking into presidential files and – wait, hold up.
“Rylee,” She lent over his shoulder. “You said you accessed the presidents emails, right? Did you-?”
“Search for any suspicious activity?” He finished, his gaze once more set onto the screen as his fingers worked ferociously over the keys once more. “Sure did. Nothing. Just boring old political mumbo-jumbo and a few sex emails from his wife – who says older couples don’t like to keep the passion burning? Some loves last forever, you know, Em?”
He paused to shoot Emma a soft look; one that silently told her all the things she didn’t want, nor need, to hear.

Rylee shook his head and finished what he was doing. “I hope Eli see’s this one.”
“Why?” She frowned, turning toward the changing ad.
“Because he should. Hundreds of other people will.”

On his last word, the image of Rylee faded into black, only to be replaced by bright neon green writing that had Emma gasping out loud.

‘Elijah & Emma ♥’

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

After breakfast, Sol had stayed true to her proposition, throwing on some clothes before impatiently waiting for Elijah as he straggled down the hallway. With heavy cursing and more persuasion, she had managed to get him out the door, crossing with Ryan on the way up (who had shot the dirtiest glares in his direction just for him to casually ignore it) before approaching Landry’s office. Elijah had always vaguely wondered if the man resided in the building; it was almost as if he never left his desk.

“If things were going my way, permission wouldn’t be necessary, but since you’re acting like the equivalency of a pussy right now, whatever.”
“Don’t be jealous of what you’re not getting,” Elijah instantly quipped just as the metal slabs began to depart.

The two agents walked in on a red-faced Landry, silver tendrils swept back in unruly tufts. Instantly his eyes connected with them and he gestured them to sit down.
“Christ, I think you four are in here more than I am!” he exclaimed, busily pushing files around. “What do you want? And if it’s another assignment, there’s nothing that the police force haven’t been able to handle thus far.”
Sol straightened up against the back of the leather seat, “Actually, we’ve come up with a mission of our own.”
Landry looked perplexed, although a mildly irritated expression soon followed. “Not allowed, and you should know that by now being an agent of your caliber.”
Elijah messed around with one of the pens on his desk, examining the tip contently before flipping it in the air.
“And what the hell’s with you, Walker? You usually have a mouthful.”
He shrugged. “Just watching. Y’know, there was nothing good on television so I figured I’d get my daily dose of shits and giggles from this conversation.”

Landry’s eyes burned into his forehead for several, long seconds until Sol was pleading again, the lightest bit of urgency in her tone.
“Sir, I can assure you this is important. It’s about the mayor! Can you seriously not tell there’s something fucked up going on behind the curtains? We need to investigate this!”
The older man let out a puff of air, seeming to forget entirely about his concern for Elijah, eyes downcast. “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. Hell, I’ve tried, but the VP has made it near impossible for any legal action to take place.”
“La—”
Elijah rested a hand on the side of his face before rising from the chair instantly and beckoning the woman to follow. “Let’s go, Sol.”
She blinked several times, confusion twisted in her dark eyes, but obliged anyways. Landry remained shockingly silent as the two exited into the hallway, the doors hissing shut behind them.

“What the hell was that?!” Sol exclaimed just above a whisper. “What are we supposed to do now?”
“Save the nation from two idiots with too much power.”
“I thought you said we had to get permission first!”
The tiniest snicker flitted past his lips as he started down the wide expanse of linoleum. “Guess you don’t really know me all that well then, love. Rules are only for people who are too afraid to think outside the box.”

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

”I want you to change it the second we get into the apartment – am I clear?”
Rylee jogged up beside her. “No sweat. Sure, sure.” He’d agree to just about anything right now; since Emma was giving him what he’d been waiting for. A ticket into the agency.
“I don’t understand why you couldn’t have taken that ridiculous sign down right away, but no, you had to blackmail me instead.”
“It’s no big deal,” Rylee grinned, shrugging his backpack over his back. “It’s just a harmless sign, declaring your love for one another in bright green neon writing. I think it’s romantic.”
“Of course you do,” Emma mumbled, stepping through the clear glass doors at entrance of the building.

As they stepped into the wide, high ceilinged foyer, Rylee paused, his wide blue eyes bigger than she’d ever seen them before. For a brief second, he looked like the small, innocent child he appeared to be.
“Dude…” He breathed, scratching his head.
Emma handed her card over to the security guard, where he scanned it on his remote before giving it back. “Who’s the kid?” He asked then, nodding toward Rylee.

She pocketed her I.D card. “I’d like to request a visitor’s card for him – Rylee…” Emma looked to him. “Is it Walker?”
“Holt.”
“Rylee Holt. I’ll be his Shadow while he’s in the building and take full responsibility for him.”
The guard narrowed his eyes on Rylee. “What’s his reason for entering the building?”
“He wants to visit a family member that works here - Elijah Walker. It’s a surprise.”
If there was one thing the security guards hated the most it was Visitors; to them, they were nothing but unnecessary hassle.
With a deep, frustrated sigh, the guard held up his remote and demanded Rylee look into the camera, where he quickly snapped his picture and handed him a Visitor’s I.D. “You have until midnight.”
“He won’t need that long.” Emma huffed, taking Rylee by the scruff of his shirt and hauling him through the foyer.

Ryan was the only one in the apartment when they eventually made it up there, with no sign of Elijah or Sol anywhere.

Probably out having fun somewhere, Emma thought bitterly, like those two always do.

As Rylee happily bounced across the living room to press himself up against the full body length window, Ryan switched down the volume on the TV and grumbled something low under his breath.
“Speak up, Ryan, I can’t hear you.” Emma growled.
He looked over at her. “Why the hell have you brought him here?”
“What’s it got to do with you?” She snapped, “Rylee’s here to see Elijah, Ryan, so chill out.”
“Elijah isn’t even here.” He protested.
“I can see that. Where is he?”
Ryan shrugged, “I dunno. He left with Sol about an hour or so ago. Fucker looked happy with himself – laughing and joking like he didn’t have a care in the world.”
Emma tried (in vain) to ignore the ache in her chest and dropped down onto the sofa beside him. “Why shouldn’t he be happy?”
Rylee looked away from the window for a second. “Emma, the view from here is insane! Oh, man, it’s awesome.”

She suppressed a sigh and asked, “Can you change the sign now, please, Rylee?”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

“I knew you wouldn’t change,” Sadie responded while bumping shoulders with him playfully. “So how are we going to do this?”
Elijah shrugged. “Since Landry can’t possibly be on our side for this one, guess we have to take matters into our own hands.”
“By?”
“Getting a group of talented individuals who hate the government just as we do,” he mused.
“Well, how—”

“Elijah, my man!” A voice exclaimed, instantly breaking Sol off. It had belonged to a tall, rounded man with dark brunette hair (now thinning), pushed back in tufts along his wide head.
“Hey…” Elijah paused with a slight grin– shit, what was his name? “Hey.”
The man seemed to go on though, eyes lighting up, “How have you been? It feels like we haven’t spoken in forever. You been good?”
He failed to remember when they had spoken at all, but decided to play along. “I’ve been alright.”
“Awesome, awesome. Well, I’ve been great too. Just got back from the gym.”
“Cool.”

He coughed before briefly covering his growing bald spot. “Anyways, ready for that big training sesh tomorrow?”
“What?”
“You don’t remember? Every three months, Landry hosts a huge fitness event. Sort of like the arena thing we did, but not quite.”
Elijah’s brows perked upwards.
“It starts at seven AM, ends at eleven. It’s pretty intense but rewarding in the end.”
Sol crossed her arms, matching his bemused expression. “Sounds…fun?”
“For sure,” he agreed, before clearing his throat again and slapping Elijah’s chest. “Anyways, see you tomorrow. Oh! And that thing you did for your girl, it was cute.”

Elijah’s eyes widened, lips parting to quickly interrogate him on what he meant by the last part, but before he could utter a word, the stout man was jogging off down the hallway, humming lowly.

“Am I missing something?” Sol questioned, eyebrows furrowed together.
“I wouldn’t know.”

What….thing? What had he done?

“Anyways, fuck it. He probably confused you with someone else.” Sol shrugged, and Elijah forced himself to believe her.

Elijah hated himself at that very moment for allowing Emma to worm into his thoughts once more, the brilliancy of her brown eyes to the way her hair always seemed to fall perfectly with no effort at all instigating his brain. He remembered the imperfect way her lips would bend when she smiled and how she fervently tried to cover her teeth whenever he did or said something extremely funny. Elijah remembered how happy he felt when she told him she loved him even if he had heard it a million times before. He missed their ridiculous conversations and love/hate arguments that usually ended with them forgetting what they had disagreed on in the first place.

He yearned to slip into that intoxication of being in her presence and forgetting the entire world existed.

Elijah felt that indescribable tingle overwhelm his being and he cursed it away.

Don’t be selfish.

Don’t fucking be selfish.

[/blockquote][/size]