Getting to Know You: Part 6
Title: Frogs, Pheromones, and Fergie
Words: 4743
Characters/Pairings: Mohinder, Elle, Molly; Mohinder/Elle
Spoilers: All of season 2
Rating: PG-13 for language and some physical discomfort
Summary: The Plot resurfaces and Mohinder tries to repress his jealousy. Thankfully, he gets a redo...and some balls.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
IMPORTANT NOTE: This fic sort of stopped here, unfinished. I got stuck. One day, I might delete this chapter (I was never that pleased with it) and sort of try again, ie., make up a different direction to take this story so that I can finish it. So this might become AU to the story at some point.
I had been a double agent with the company. Never mind that I flat-out told Bob what I was doing. I had jumped in front of a bullet. Never mind that it had been time-stopped away. I had shot two men in the face. Never mind that neither time had it caused much of a result. The point is that I can be tough when I need to be. That said, I hid in my room the next morning until I was sure Molly and Elle had left the house. Molly poked her head in to make sure I was alright. I told her I had a stomach ache and would see her later.
Work wasn’t much better. I spent all of my time with my team so I wouldn’t have to confront Yuko. Bloody women. I had a pang of longing for those lonely days in New York when basically the only people I interacted with were men who didn’t really like me. Yuko finally cornered me late in the afternoon to talk about my monthly expense receipts. When it was clear that I wasn’t going to mention anything about the previous night, she broke down and asked me how it had gone. I smiled brightly and said that we had had a wonderful meal and that the client was thrilled. She looked confused but didn’t say anything else. Hah.
******************************************
After dinner, I helped Molly with her science homework, and then worked on my own research while she finished her other subjects. We both pointedly did not mention Elle. I knew why I didn’t, but in the back of my mind, I was wondering why she was quiet on the subject.
After about half an hour of silence I had a thought. “Molly? Do you know who Fergie is?”
“Who doesn’t know who Fergie is?”
“I don’t. What’s this song about crying?”
Molly gave me a strange look, but didn’t ask me why I was asking. Instead, she logged onto Youtube and pulled up a video.
“I think this is what you’re looking for.” We watched it together while Molly explained to me the rise of Stacy Ferguson’s career. The song was appallingly bad, but in a catchy way. Apparently, Molly and Elle found Fergie’s boyfriend very cute. I was disturbed that Molly found anyone very cute, but decided it wasn’t the time to get worked up about it.
“So is this man her boyfriend?” I was trying to understand what Elle’s type was. If she liked to touch me the way she touched this shirtless tattooed man, did that mean that maybe she liked me? Or did she like shirtless tattooed men? Or was she just touchy?
“No, the guy in the video is someone random. Hey, doesn’t he look kind of like exploding guy?”
“Peter Petrelli? You’re right. It’s uncanny.” My spirits fell. Elle obviously had a type, and it was not me. I started to wonder what Adam the immortal looked like. My disappointment was apparent to Molly, who rested her head on my shoulder.
“What’s the matter, Mohinder?”
“Nothing. I think I’m just tired,” I lied. Then I remembered that she had been a bit quiet, too. “Is everything alright with you?”
“I’m fine. So… how was your date with Elle last night? She wouldn’t tell me about it this morning.”
“It was good. Is that what’s wrong? Were you lonely last night? I’m sorry we both abandoned you.”
“No, I didn’t mind. I really wanted you guys to have fun. Do you think you’ll go again soon?”
Her voice sounded hopeful. I hadn’t realized she cared this much. “I don’t think so, sweetie. It wasn’t really a date, you know that, right? She’s on her real date with Julien right now. I hope it’s going well,” I lied.
“Yeah, me, too,” she mumbled, and then we both got back to work.
I was packing up my papers a few hours later when I heard voices outside the door. Molly had long gone to bed, and I felt like a trapped animal, standing there in the living room in my pajamas. I turned out the light so she hopefully wouldn’t notice me. But I was too slow.
“You didn’t have to wait up for me, you know. I’m a big girl.” She sounded simultaneously annoyed and glad to have caught me. As she took off her coat, I saw that she was wearing an even nicer outfit than the one she had worn out with me. I wanted to pout, but repressed the urge.
“I was working,” I snapped. “So, how did it go?”
“Amazingly! He took me to an art gallery opening. It was very Sex and the City. Mmm. And then to this grungy fish place for dinner. I thought dates were supposed to be fancy, but I liked the low-key even better. He even bought me flowers, but I accidentally left them in one of the taxis. I did exactly what you said and just asked him about himself all night. He seemed to like it, and we got along really well, and told me how glad he was to have met me. So, thanks, professor.”
“Anytime,” I replied, still not looking at her, and wondering if she had said those things on purpose to make me feel like my date was lesser. “See you in the morning.”
That was obviously not torturous enough for her tastes, so she grabbed my arm as I tried to walk past her to the staircase.
“Don’t you want to know what else happened?” she demanded suggestively.
“Not right now. I’m exhausted, and you can tell me all about it tomorrow,” I said, and started up the stairs. I felt a stronger shock of lightening than usual hit the small of my back. I turned around to find her still standing at the foot of the staircase, a blue ball of light illuminating her scowling face in the dark. “Ow! What the hell was that for?”
She didn’t respond.
******************************************
That day at work, I asked Yuko where I could find previous studies on a new vaccine I was looking to start working on. She was back to her old, inscrutably professional self, thank goodness. She sent me to a file storage facility in another building, where I spent the day looking through records. It was actually a great way to learn more about the company I was working for. The files were amazingly thorough, and in all sorts of languages, as Yamaguto had branches around the world. My Japanese was getting good enough to grasp the major points of the files. I felt a bit like I was back in university, sitting alone in a library. The afternoon flew by, and I was late picking Molly up from school.
When we got home, Elle was already there, on the floor in front of the hidden television in the lounge, and up to her elbows in DVDs.
“Hi, Elle. You’re home early,” I offered, as we came in. This was going to be our first evening back to regular interaction, and I wasn’t sure how it would go. Without turning around, she sent a blue shock wave in the direction of my shoulder. We were back to normal, as if nothing had ever happened. But nothing had happened, so that made sense.
“Hey guys,” she said, still not looking, as Molly ran and jumped on her back.
“What are you watching?” she asked. “It looks old. And… not in English. Or Japanese.” Elle was indeed watching a black and while film. I recognized Jean-Paul Belmondo and became very excited.
“You’re watching Breathless! I love that film!” Without realizing what I was doing, I sat down next to Elle on the floor and grabbed a handful of her popcorn. She looked at me with wonder.
“You’ve seen this before? Great. Maybe you can tell me what the fuck is going on.”
Before I could even get the words out, Molly pre-empted my response. “Language, Elle!” she mocked in a fake British accent. They grinned at one another.
“Yes, language!” I repeated, although I felt ridiculous. “You’re still at the beginning, when it’s a bit slow and doesn’t make much sense. But it gets really good soon. Can we watch it together after dinner? There’s a very famous bedroom scene…” I trailed off as a felt my face getting hot. “I mean, it’s renowned as a breakthrough in French filmmaking.”
“Fabulous!” she beamed, looking only at Molly. “That’s why I’m watching it. Julien recommended all these French films, so I’m trying to bone up. He was going on about this one in particular, and I pretended to know what he was talking about. Anyway, I’ve been waiting for you guys to come home. I’m starved.”
This was the first time that I didn’t secretly love the fact that she was as fastidious as I am about mealtimes together. This evening, Molly grilled her on Julien. Fucking Julien. What kind of clothes he wore, what kind of music he liked, what kind of job he had, where they went, what France was like, what his accent sounded like (I have an accent, too! I wanted to scream). She certainly had taken my advice about asking him about himself all night. I felt like there was nothing about this guy that I didn’t hear about over dinner. Leaving the table to watch a movie he had recommended wasn’t much fun either. I decided to retaliate by gushing at the beauty of Jean Seberg, the lead actress. After a few minutes, Elle looked at her tresses.
“She really is pretty cute. Should I cut all my hair off like hers? Be a pixie? Like Eden, only blonde?”
“No, don’t do that. Your hair looks great as it is.”
She smiled and was silent for a few minutes. During the next quiet section of the film (French films are laden with quiet sections), I felt like I should say something.
“So, judging from your conversation with Molly, you seem to really like this guy. You said you’re going out again in a couple of days.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m trying to watch a few of these in the next couple of days. He called today and said he had such a great time that he has a whole bunch of ideas for dates.”
“Wow, that sounds serious.”
“Yeah,” she said.
We watched another film, breaking up the silence only with occasional laughter, before I remembered to tell her about my findings in the storage room that day.
“Elle, I think I found out something interesting about Yamagotu Industries today. Something company-related. Do you remember Bob ever talking about company facilities in Japan or India?”
Elle involuntarily hitched her breath, as she always did when her father was brought up. “He talked about Kaito Nakamura from time to time, but not often. And he only mentioned India in connection to you and your dad. Why?”
“I’m not sure yet, but about twenty years ago, research was done in Japan on the virus. It wasn’t a dormant program waiting for Adam to escape. Someone manufactured strains like the one Niki and Sylar while he was imprisoned. Someone made them here. The younger Nakamura’s don’t seem to know anything about it, because the lab was called something else. But the files are there.”
“What about India?”
“Just before I left, I spotted a box labeled in Tamil. I’m going to try to go back as soon as I can and read. There is a lot of material, though, and I don’t know how long it’ll take or where it’s going.”
“Interesting. Let me know if you need any help.”
******************************************
My cell phone ringing was a strange sound in the emptiness of the file storage room. It took me a little while to find it.
“Hey, Mohinder! I knew you were there, even though ice queen said you weren’t.”
“Actually, this time she was telling the truth. I’m not at work.”
“Still reading your files?”
The joy of hearing a voice in this lonely room, even through the phone, made me realize what a recluse I had been of late. I had been spent every moment I could in there during the past ten days. During work, after work, whenever I could. The great mystery of the old files had gotten deeper. Although Kimiko and Hiro had no idea about it, Yamagotu had been the front for a lot of dangerous scientific experimentation over the years. Genetics, weather control---there was a lot going on. Matt knew I was working on this information, and I was secretly glad to be able to send him reports with updates. Even though everything I was learning about took place in the past, I still felt like I was helping the cause.
I hadn’t seen much of Molly or Elle in days. For the first time ever, we’d had to hire a babysitter for Molly, because Elle had been going out on a lot of dates, and there was no one to pick her up from school. I felt like a bad father, but Molly understood my need to do something useful on the company front. I hadn’t had a real conversation with Elle in days, except for brief synopses of my research in the morning or when she blew in late at night. In addition to being fascinated by the work, I was glad to have something to take my mind off my little domestic non-drama.
But all the same, hearing Elle’s voice like this made me realize that I was lonely. I had an idea. “I’d actually want to take you up on your offer of help, if you can spare the time. I’ve finished the English boxes, but there’s a whole section of Japanese files left to go through, and I’m the only one who can read these Tamil ones. Are you doing anything tonight? Would you mind coming over?”
There was a pause as it seemed like she was trying to come to grips with a decision, although I didn’t see what was so difficult.
“I’ll see you there after class. I’ll bring some takeout and ask one of Molly’s friend’s moms to drop her off at the house.”
“Thanks, Elle. See you soon.” I grinned. For someone who had been brought up in a near-prison by a company of sociopaths, Elle was surprisingly responsible---and good company, to boot. She showed up a couple of hours later, just as my stomach was beginning to rumble.
“Wow, this place is even bleaker than I imagined,” she said as she sat down next to me on the dusty floor and started arranging the sushi containers. “You must feel right at home, nerd.”
“Well, yes, a bit,” I said sheepishly. “Thanks for coming by. It’s such a big help. I’m lucky you didn’t have plans this evening.”
She looked a bit distracted and murmured assent. “What do you need me to do?”
“Well, I’ve gotten as far as the company’s first efforts at looking for a virus, but have yet to figure out where the thread goes. Can you tackle the Japanese boxes while I start on the India files?”
“No problem.”
We sat in comfortable silence for awhile.
“My files end here,” she chirped after a few hours. “But there’s a note that the research on Sylar’s strain was continued in India.” She turned one last page and turned pale.
“Mohinder. I think the virus came from your sister.”
“What?” I leaned over her shoulder. She was reading a bio about my family and my sister that was signed by Adam Monroe. We gaped at each other.
“My files say that everything was moved to India, too. That means that Adam went there and somehow took it out of my dying sister.”
“What should we do?”
“I… I have to go to India and find the rest of these documents. Talk to people involved. I should go right away. This could be huge for Matt and Peter and Nathan.”
“Like, tomorrow?” She sounded sad.
“Yes. Like tomorrow. Maybe I’ll take Molly with me, to make it seem like I’m just there for family reasons. And… so my mother will have less of an incentive to waste my time on setting me up with a nice Indian girl. I should call Yuko and ask her to set up the travel.”
“How are you going to explain that to her?”
“We have a branch in Chennai. My ex-fiancée runs it, as it turns out. She’ll be one of the people I have to talk to.”
“Your… fiancée…”
I absent-mindedly left her with that thought as I blundered out to a place with better reception to call Yuko.
******************************************
After packing up and deciding which files to take with us, Elle and I strolled quietly down our block, just as we had only over a week before, but this time without the alcohol or the nervousness.
“Wow, you’re really going to India tomorrow.” She sounded nonplussed.
“Yes, it’s strange, isn’t it? It’s been almost a year since I’ve been there, and so much has happened. It will be nice to introduce Molly to my mother but I don’t know what to expect.”
Elle looked at her feet. “Bring me back something pretty?”
I could tell she was disappointed.
“I’m so sorry, Elle. I really wish I could take you with me, introduce you to my friends---I do have friends back in India, you know---show you everything. It’s just that… we don’t know if anyone is looking for you… for us… and… I promise I’ll take you next time.”
“It’s fine. Someone should hold down the fort. I’ve never had a house all to myself before. Maybe I’ll throw a rager.” She laughed. “Although it would be pretty hilarious to watch you try to explain to your mom how you’ve shacked up with a non-Indian girl in somebody else’s house with somebody else’s child.” She stopped walking and turned to face me, leaning in close so she could whisper breathily in my ear. “You’re living in sin, Mohinder,” she giggled.
I’m not sure what came over me. I think it’s because we were in a similar position to where we had been a week before. I had imagined so many do-overs in that time that I must have thought I was in yet another daydream. I leaned in and…
“Aww, fuck,” she sighed into my face, her eyes looking somewhere else entirely. Before I knew it, she had slipped out of my arms and was running to the house. I followed where her eyes had been directed. One of the curtains in the living room windows facing the street was fluttering shut. A small black Audi was parked outside. I honestly had no idea what was going on. It was like a bad dream.
When I got inside, I was greeted by a strange sight. Yulia our maid, standing with Molly in the vestibule looking on as Elle was mauled by a reedy young man about my age with wavy dark hair. None of the women looked very happy about it.
The man was talking suavely into her hair. “What happened? We were supposed to go out tonight, but you never came. And when you didn’t answer your phone, I started to worry. So here I am.”
Since Elle was too overwhelmed to say anything, and he hadn’t even noticed my arrival, Molly took it upon herself to make introductions.
She gave a little cough to get his attention. “Mohinder, this is Julien Delanay, Elle’s, um, friend. Julian, this is my dad, Mohinder Suresh.”
He smiled, but I instinctively hated him. Not because I was jealous either. He just had a bad vibe about him. I could see why Elle had been attracted to him, though. Objectively, he was a very good-looking young man, but there was something untrustworthy in his face. I stretched out my hand to shake his, but he just yanked Elle even closer to him and looked at me appraisingly. “Bonsoir,” he smirked at me. “So you are the Indian scientist Elle lives with. I somehow imagined you differently. Older. Fatter. Balder. Just as I had imagined Molly as more… Indian?”
“Yes, well…” I couldn’t think of a response. Damn him.
“Elle was about to pour me a glass of wine,” he continued, relishing my discomfort.
“I was?” She looked up at him incredulously.
I hated seeing her like this. Cowering and submissive and unsure of herself. I’d seen her have a lot of reactions, but I’d rarely seen her panic stricken, which was ironic, given that she was the only reason he would be here.
“Yes, in the kitchen.” He winked at me as he pushed her lightly in the direction of the door and gave her a little pat on the bottom. I clenched my fists and repressed a desire to strangle him.
“What have I told you about letting people in the house?” I whispered savagely to Molly.
“But he said he was Julien, looking for Elle, and he looked like the picture she showed me, so I thought it was alright,” she whimpered. “Mohinder, I don’t like him.”
“Don’t worry, honey. It’ll be ok. You just head on upstairs. We have to go on an unexpected trip tomorrow morning. To India. You'll see where I grew up. I have to take care of some work while we're there, but I think it will be fun.”
Her face brightened, troubles forgotten in a moment of childish selfishness. “India! Cool!” She almost knocked me over in a bear hug.
“Yes, yes, now you go upstairs. Ask Yulia to help you pack a bag for four days in a hot climate. And make sure you put nice clothes in. I want you to look presentable for my mother.”
“I get to meet your mom?”
“Yes. Now run along. I’m going to go check on Elle. I’ll see you first thing in the morning.” I smiled happily as she bounded up the stairs. I turned to peep into the kitchen. He was mauling Elle again, aggressively pawing her and trying to get into her clothes, and she was squirming very uncomfortably. I knew something was wrong, and it was confirmed when he bit her shoulder hard enough to make her yell and try to push away. She knew better than to use electricity, but without it, she was no match for him. The scene was wrong in every sense of the word.
“Leave her alone!” I yelled.
“Mind your own business.”
I did something I’ve never done before. I punched him in the face. It felt great. At least, until he staggered back to his feet and tried to wrestle me to the ground.
“Hey!” Elle yelled, as I pummeled him.
“Putain! Qu’est-ce que c’est que ce bordel?” he roared.
“Get out.” I dragged him towards the front door.
“I saw you through the window,” he hissed at me. “I know what’s going on. Don’t worry, she’s all yours, the frigid little bitch.”
“Va te faire foudre,” I snarled. I gave him another satisfying punch to the face before slamming the door on him.
I went back into the kitchen, where I found Elle crumpled in a heap on the floor, sobbing. Molly was usually the one to comfort Elle when she was upset, so I was at a bit of a loss. I crawled down next to her and shifted her gently so that I could sit behind her---around her, with one leg thrown over hips and one of her arms around my shoulder. It was a complicated position. She just let me maneuver her into it, though, sobbing all the while. I knew there was more going on that just what had happened. It was Bob, and the gaps in her childhood memories, and everything. I let her have her cry, hugging her close and rubbing her shoulders.
“So what happened last night?” I asked, when the sobs had finally subsided into sniffles.
“What do you think happened?” She whimpered into my shoulder.
“I’m going to kill that son-of-a-bitch,” I growled, feeling scarily Sylar-like.
“No, no, it really wasn’t that bad. I short-circuited his apartment and slipped out in the dark when I realized what was up. Nothing actually happened, but it would have. I just freaked out. We were supposed to go out tonight, and I didn’t know how to get out of it, so I just tried disappearing. I didn’t think he would think we were still on after I ran away like that last night. I never thought he would come to the house. I’m so sorry.” She snuggled in so close that I could feel the dampness of her face wetting my neck.
“Why didn’t you tell me? We were together for hours today and you didn’t say a word.”
“I dunno. Just wanted to pretend nothing was wrong. That’s what I’ve been doing all week.”
“This has been going on for a week?!?”
“No, I just sort of felt that something was off, but I didn’t know how to make the whole thing stop. Maybe he isn’t actually a douche. The problem is that I can’t tell. I thought I knew what I wanted. I wanted a normal sort of romance with someone who isn’t in a cell. But I don’t really know what normal is. I think I got in over my head. Maybe I should have started off with teenage boys, you know, on the same experience level.”
“Or maybe just someone who isn’t a stranger,” I murmured, hoping she would understand.
“Yeah, but…” I knew she was about to say something clueless about not having anyone who wasn’t a stranger, so I started kissing her earlobe. It was there, just under my lips, asking to be kissed, so I did it.
“I know this is probably completely the wrong time,” I whispered into her ear, stroking the hair away, “especially after everything that just happened a few minutes ago, but…” I paused when she started to turn in my arms to face me.
She smacked me. Hard.
“Don’t pity kiss me!”
“I’m not! I was about to kiss you outside the house a few minutes ago. Or did you not notice?”
“Right,” she shrugged sheepishly. “You were saying?”
“You really don’t make it easy, Elle.” Before she could say or do anything else to weaken my resolve, I leaned forward and kissed her nose, as a kind of warm-up. When she didn’t flinch, I slid my lips down to her mouth and gathered her in close to me, as gently as possible. She was tense and hesitant for a second, but then kissed me back. We stayed on the kitchen floor like that for awhile; I’m not sure how long. We finally came up for air, and I wiped away some of her residual tears. I cradled her head in my hands and she played with one of my curls.
“You were really badass,” she grinned.
“Well, you know me,” I grinned, rather pleased with myself.
“Yeah, I do. That’s why I’m so shocked.” We stuck our tongues out at each other, and ended up bringing them to touch. She became a little more serious. “So… what’s happens now?”
“Well, nothing really, since I’m leaving tomorrow. But when I get back… whatever you want,” I told her. “You can think about it while I’m gone.”
“Oh. Your trip. I forgot.” She started to sit up on her own. Without her snuggled against me, I suddenly felt cold. We both started to stretch our limbs. When she stood up, I followed her lead.
“This is ok, right? We’re ok?” She was looking at me strangely as we made our way upstairs. I had been afraid this would happen.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” she asked stiffly.
“I don’t know. No reason.”
We stood awkwardly outside our bedroom doors.
“I probably won’t see you in the morning,” she said quietly.
“Probably not,” I replied, and grabbed her again, a little more assertively this time. She kissed back more hesitantly than the first time, but then eased into it. When I finally released her, she gave me a mysteriously sad smile.
“Don’t get killed,” she said, and went into her room without another word.
Strange, to the last.
Next up, Part 7: "Hi mom, I'm living in sin."style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
Words: 4743
Characters/Pairings: Mohinder, Elle, Molly; Mohinder/Elle
Spoilers: All of season 2
Rating: PG-13 for language and some physical discomfort
Summary: The Plot resurfaces and Mohinder tries to repress his jealousy. Thankfully, he gets a redo...and some balls.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
IMPORTANT NOTE: This fic sort of stopped here, unfinished. I got stuck. One day, I might delete this chapter (I was never that pleased with it) and sort of try again, ie., make up a different direction to take this story so that I can finish it. So this might become AU to the story at some point.
I had been a double agent with the company. Never mind that I flat-out told Bob what I was doing. I had jumped in front of a bullet. Never mind that it had been time-stopped away. I had shot two men in the face. Never mind that neither time had it caused much of a result. The point is that I can be tough when I need to be. That said, I hid in my room the next morning until I was sure Molly and Elle had left the house. Molly poked her head in to make sure I was alright. I told her I had a stomach ache and would see her later.
Work wasn’t much better. I spent all of my time with my team so I wouldn’t have to confront Yuko. Bloody women. I had a pang of longing for those lonely days in New York when basically the only people I interacted with were men who didn’t really like me. Yuko finally cornered me late in the afternoon to talk about my monthly expense receipts. When it was clear that I wasn’t going to mention anything about the previous night, she broke down and asked me how it had gone. I smiled brightly and said that we had had a wonderful meal and that the client was thrilled. She looked confused but didn’t say anything else. Hah.
******************************************
After dinner, I helped Molly with her science homework, and then worked on my own research while she finished her other subjects. We both pointedly did not mention Elle. I knew why I didn’t, but in the back of my mind, I was wondering why she was quiet on the subject.
After about half an hour of silence I had a thought. “Molly? Do you know who Fergie is?”
“Who doesn’t know who Fergie is?”
“I don’t. What’s this song about crying?”
Molly gave me a strange look, but didn’t ask me why I was asking. Instead, she logged onto Youtube and pulled up a video.
“I think this is what you’re looking for.” We watched it together while Molly explained to me the rise of Stacy Ferguson’s career. The song was appallingly bad, but in a catchy way. Apparently, Molly and Elle found Fergie’s boyfriend very cute. I was disturbed that Molly found anyone very cute, but decided it wasn’t the time to get worked up about it.
“So is this man her boyfriend?” I was trying to understand what Elle’s type was. If she liked to touch me the way she touched this shirtless tattooed man, did that mean that maybe she liked me? Or did she like shirtless tattooed men? Or was she just touchy?
“No, the guy in the video is someone random. Hey, doesn’t he look kind of like exploding guy?”
“Peter Petrelli? You’re right. It’s uncanny.” My spirits fell. Elle obviously had a type, and it was not me. I started to wonder what Adam the immortal looked like. My disappointment was apparent to Molly, who rested her head on my shoulder.
“What’s the matter, Mohinder?”
“Nothing. I think I’m just tired,” I lied. Then I remembered that she had been a bit quiet, too. “Is everything alright with you?”
“I’m fine. So… how was your date with Elle last night? She wouldn’t tell me about it this morning.”
“It was good. Is that what’s wrong? Were you lonely last night? I’m sorry we both abandoned you.”
“No, I didn’t mind. I really wanted you guys to have fun. Do you think you’ll go again soon?”
Her voice sounded hopeful. I hadn’t realized she cared this much. “I don’t think so, sweetie. It wasn’t really a date, you know that, right? She’s on her real date with Julien right now. I hope it’s going well,” I lied.
“Yeah, me, too,” she mumbled, and then we both got back to work.
I was packing up my papers a few hours later when I heard voices outside the door. Molly had long gone to bed, and I felt like a trapped animal, standing there in the living room in my pajamas. I turned out the light so she hopefully wouldn’t notice me. But I was too slow.
“You didn’t have to wait up for me, you know. I’m a big girl.” She sounded simultaneously annoyed and glad to have caught me. As she took off her coat, I saw that she was wearing an even nicer outfit than the one she had worn out with me. I wanted to pout, but repressed the urge.
“I was working,” I snapped. “So, how did it go?”
“Amazingly! He took me to an art gallery opening. It was very Sex and the City. Mmm. And then to this grungy fish place for dinner. I thought dates were supposed to be fancy, but I liked the low-key even better. He even bought me flowers, but I accidentally left them in one of the taxis. I did exactly what you said and just asked him about himself all night. He seemed to like it, and we got along really well, and told me how glad he was to have met me. So, thanks, professor.”
“Anytime,” I replied, still not looking at her, and wondering if she had said those things on purpose to make me feel like my date was lesser. “See you in the morning.”
That was obviously not torturous enough for her tastes, so she grabbed my arm as I tried to walk past her to the staircase.
“Don’t you want to know what else happened?” she demanded suggestively.
“Not right now. I’m exhausted, and you can tell me all about it tomorrow,” I said, and started up the stairs. I felt a stronger shock of lightening than usual hit the small of my back. I turned around to find her still standing at the foot of the staircase, a blue ball of light illuminating her scowling face in the dark. “Ow! What the hell was that for?”
She didn’t respond.
******************************************
That day at work, I asked Yuko where I could find previous studies on a new vaccine I was looking to start working on. She was back to her old, inscrutably professional self, thank goodness. She sent me to a file storage facility in another building, where I spent the day looking through records. It was actually a great way to learn more about the company I was working for. The files were amazingly thorough, and in all sorts of languages, as Yamaguto had branches around the world. My Japanese was getting good enough to grasp the major points of the files. I felt a bit like I was back in university, sitting alone in a library. The afternoon flew by, and I was late picking Molly up from school.
When we got home, Elle was already there, on the floor in front of the hidden television in the lounge, and up to her elbows in DVDs.
“Hi, Elle. You’re home early,” I offered, as we came in. This was going to be our first evening back to regular interaction, and I wasn’t sure how it would go. Without turning around, she sent a blue shock wave in the direction of my shoulder. We were back to normal, as if nothing had ever happened. But nothing had happened, so that made sense.
“Hey guys,” she said, still not looking, as Molly ran and jumped on her back.
“What are you watching?” she asked. “It looks old. And… not in English. Or Japanese.” Elle was indeed watching a black and while film. I recognized Jean-Paul Belmondo and became very excited.
“You’re watching Breathless! I love that film!” Without realizing what I was doing, I sat down next to Elle on the floor and grabbed a handful of her popcorn. She looked at me with wonder.
“You’ve seen this before? Great. Maybe you can tell me what the fuck is going on.”
Before I could even get the words out, Molly pre-empted my response. “Language, Elle!” she mocked in a fake British accent. They grinned at one another.
“Yes, language!” I repeated, although I felt ridiculous. “You’re still at the beginning, when it’s a bit slow and doesn’t make much sense. But it gets really good soon. Can we watch it together after dinner? There’s a very famous bedroom scene…” I trailed off as a felt my face getting hot. “I mean, it’s renowned as a breakthrough in French filmmaking.”
“Fabulous!” she beamed, looking only at Molly. “That’s why I’m watching it. Julien recommended all these French films, so I’m trying to bone up. He was going on about this one in particular, and I pretended to know what he was talking about. Anyway, I’ve been waiting for you guys to come home. I’m starved.”
This was the first time that I didn’t secretly love the fact that she was as fastidious as I am about mealtimes together. This evening, Molly grilled her on Julien. Fucking Julien. What kind of clothes he wore, what kind of music he liked, what kind of job he had, where they went, what France was like, what his accent sounded like (I have an accent, too! I wanted to scream). She certainly had taken my advice about asking him about himself all night. I felt like there was nothing about this guy that I didn’t hear about over dinner. Leaving the table to watch a movie he had recommended wasn’t much fun either. I decided to retaliate by gushing at the beauty of Jean Seberg, the lead actress. After a few minutes, Elle looked at her tresses.
“She really is pretty cute. Should I cut all my hair off like hers? Be a pixie? Like Eden, only blonde?”
“No, don’t do that. Your hair looks great as it is.”
She smiled and was silent for a few minutes. During the next quiet section of the film (French films are laden with quiet sections), I felt like I should say something.
“So, judging from your conversation with Molly, you seem to really like this guy. You said you’re going out again in a couple of days.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m trying to watch a few of these in the next couple of days. He called today and said he had such a great time that he has a whole bunch of ideas for dates.”
“Wow, that sounds serious.”
“Yeah,” she said.
We watched another film, breaking up the silence only with occasional laughter, before I remembered to tell her about my findings in the storage room that day.
“Elle, I think I found out something interesting about Yamagotu Industries today. Something company-related. Do you remember Bob ever talking about company facilities in Japan or India?”
Elle involuntarily hitched her breath, as she always did when her father was brought up. “He talked about Kaito Nakamura from time to time, but not often. And he only mentioned India in connection to you and your dad. Why?”
“I’m not sure yet, but about twenty years ago, research was done in Japan on the virus. It wasn’t a dormant program waiting for Adam to escape. Someone manufactured strains like the one Niki and Sylar while he was imprisoned. Someone made them here. The younger Nakamura’s don’t seem to know anything about it, because the lab was called something else. But the files are there.”
“What about India?”
“Just before I left, I spotted a box labeled in Tamil. I’m going to try to go back as soon as I can and read. There is a lot of material, though, and I don’t know how long it’ll take or where it’s going.”
“Interesting. Let me know if you need any help.”
******************************************
My cell phone ringing was a strange sound in the emptiness of the file storage room. It took me a little while to find it.
“Hey, Mohinder! I knew you were there, even though ice queen said you weren’t.”
“Actually, this time she was telling the truth. I’m not at work.”
“Still reading your files?”
The joy of hearing a voice in this lonely room, even through the phone, made me realize what a recluse I had been of late. I had been spent every moment I could in there during the past ten days. During work, after work, whenever I could. The great mystery of the old files had gotten deeper. Although Kimiko and Hiro had no idea about it, Yamagotu had been the front for a lot of dangerous scientific experimentation over the years. Genetics, weather control---there was a lot going on. Matt knew I was working on this information, and I was secretly glad to be able to send him reports with updates. Even though everything I was learning about took place in the past, I still felt like I was helping the cause.
I hadn’t seen much of Molly or Elle in days. For the first time ever, we’d had to hire a babysitter for Molly, because Elle had been going out on a lot of dates, and there was no one to pick her up from school. I felt like a bad father, but Molly understood my need to do something useful on the company front. I hadn’t had a real conversation with Elle in days, except for brief synopses of my research in the morning or when she blew in late at night. In addition to being fascinated by the work, I was glad to have something to take my mind off my little domestic non-drama.
But all the same, hearing Elle’s voice like this made me realize that I was lonely. I had an idea. “I’d actually want to take you up on your offer of help, if you can spare the time. I’ve finished the English boxes, but there’s a whole section of Japanese files left to go through, and I’m the only one who can read these Tamil ones. Are you doing anything tonight? Would you mind coming over?”
There was a pause as it seemed like she was trying to come to grips with a decision, although I didn’t see what was so difficult.
“I’ll see you there after class. I’ll bring some takeout and ask one of Molly’s friend’s moms to drop her off at the house.”
“Thanks, Elle. See you soon.” I grinned. For someone who had been brought up in a near-prison by a company of sociopaths, Elle was surprisingly responsible---and good company, to boot. She showed up a couple of hours later, just as my stomach was beginning to rumble.
“Wow, this place is even bleaker than I imagined,” she said as she sat down next to me on the dusty floor and started arranging the sushi containers. “You must feel right at home, nerd.”
“Well, yes, a bit,” I said sheepishly. “Thanks for coming by. It’s such a big help. I’m lucky you didn’t have plans this evening.”
She looked a bit distracted and murmured assent. “What do you need me to do?”
“Well, I’ve gotten as far as the company’s first efforts at looking for a virus, but have yet to figure out where the thread goes. Can you tackle the Japanese boxes while I start on the India files?”
“No problem.”
We sat in comfortable silence for awhile.
“My files end here,” she chirped after a few hours. “But there’s a note that the research on Sylar’s strain was continued in India.” She turned one last page and turned pale.
“Mohinder. I think the virus came from your sister.”
“What?” I leaned over her shoulder. She was reading a bio about my family and my sister that was signed by Adam Monroe. We gaped at each other.
“My files say that everything was moved to India, too. That means that Adam went there and somehow took it out of my dying sister.”
“What should we do?”
“I… I have to go to India and find the rest of these documents. Talk to people involved. I should go right away. This could be huge for Matt and Peter and Nathan.”
“Like, tomorrow?” She sounded sad.
“Yes. Like tomorrow. Maybe I’ll take Molly with me, to make it seem like I’m just there for family reasons. And… so my mother will have less of an incentive to waste my time on setting me up with a nice Indian girl. I should call Yuko and ask her to set up the travel.”
“How are you going to explain that to her?”
“We have a branch in Chennai. My ex-fiancée runs it, as it turns out. She’ll be one of the people I have to talk to.”
“Your… fiancée…”
I absent-mindedly left her with that thought as I blundered out to a place with better reception to call Yuko.
******************************************
After packing up and deciding which files to take with us, Elle and I strolled quietly down our block, just as we had only over a week before, but this time without the alcohol or the nervousness.
“Wow, you’re really going to India tomorrow.” She sounded nonplussed.
“Yes, it’s strange, isn’t it? It’s been almost a year since I’ve been there, and so much has happened. It will be nice to introduce Molly to my mother but I don’t know what to expect.”
Elle looked at her feet. “Bring me back something pretty?”
I could tell she was disappointed.
“I’m so sorry, Elle. I really wish I could take you with me, introduce you to my friends---I do have friends back in India, you know---show you everything. It’s just that… we don’t know if anyone is looking for you… for us… and… I promise I’ll take you next time.”
“It’s fine. Someone should hold down the fort. I’ve never had a house all to myself before. Maybe I’ll throw a rager.” She laughed. “Although it would be pretty hilarious to watch you try to explain to your mom how you’ve shacked up with a non-Indian girl in somebody else’s house with somebody else’s child.” She stopped walking and turned to face me, leaning in close so she could whisper breathily in my ear. “You’re living in sin, Mohinder,” she giggled.
I’m not sure what came over me. I think it’s because we were in a similar position to where we had been a week before. I had imagined so many do-overs in that time that I must have thought I was in yet another daydream. I leaned in and…
“Aww, fuck,” she sighed into my face, her eyes looking somewhere else entirely. Before I knew it, she had slipped out of my arms and was running to the house. I followed where her eyes had been directed. One of the curtains in the living room windows facing the street was fluttering shut. A small black Audi was parked outside. I honestly had no idea what was going on. It was like a bad dream.
When I got inside, I was greeted by a strange sight. Yulia our maid, standing with Molly in the vestibule looking on as Elle was mauled by a reedy young man about my age with wavy dark hair. None of the women looked very happy about it.
The man was talking suavely into her hair. “What happened? We were supposed to go out tonight, but you never came. And when you didn’t answer your phone, I started to worry. So here I am.”
Since Elle was too overwhelmed to say anything, and he hadn’t even noticed my arrival, Molly took it upon herself to make introductions.
She gave a little cough to get his attention. “Mohinder, this is Julien Delanay, Elle’s, um, friend. Julian, this is my dad, Mohinder Suresh.”
He smiled, but I instinctively hated him. Not because I was jealous either. He just had a bad vibe about him. I could see why Elle had been attracted to him, though. Objectively, he was a very good-looking young man, but there was something untrustworthy in his face. I stretched out my hand to shake his, but he just yanked Elle even closer to him and looked at me appraisingly. “Bonsoir,” he smirked at me. “So you are the Indian scientist Elle lives with. I somehow imagined you differently. Older. Fatter. Balder. Just as I had imagined Molly as more… Indian?”
“Yes, well…” I couldn’t think of a response. Damn him.
“Elle was about to pour me a glass of wine,” he continued, relishing my discomfort.
“I was?” She looked up at him incredulously.
I hated seeing her like this. Cowering and submissive and unsure of herself. I’d seen her have a lot of reactions, but I’d rarely seen her panic stricken, which was ironic, given that she was the only reason he would be here.
“Yes, in the kitchen.” He winked at me as he pushed her lightly in the direction of the door and gave her a little pat on the bottom. I clenched my fists and repressed a desire to strangle him.
“What have I told you about letting people in the house?” I whispered savagely to Molly.
“But he said he was Julien, looking for Elle, and he looked like the picture she showed me, so I thought it was alright,” she whimpered. “Mohinder, I don’t like him.”
“Don’t worry, honey. It’ll be ok. You just head on upstairs. We have to go on an unexpected trip tomorrow morning. To India. You'll see where I grew up. I have to take care of some work while we're there, but I think it will be fun.”
Her face brightened, troubles forgotten in a moment of childish selfishness. “India! Cool!” She almost knocked me over in a bear hug.
“Yes, yes, now you go upstairs. Ask Yulia to help you pack a bag for four days in a hot climate. And make sure you put nice clothes in. I want you to look presentable for my mother.”
“I get to meet your mom?”
“Yes. Now run along. I’m going to go check on Elle. I’ll see you first thing in the morning.” I smiled happily as she bounded up the stairs. I turned to peep into the kitchen. He was mauling Elle again, aggressively pawing her and trying to get into her clothes, and she was squirming very uncomfortably. I knew something was wrong, and it was confirmed when he bit her shoulder hard enough to make her yell and try to push away. She knew better than to use electricity, but without it, she was no match for him. The scene was wrong in every sense of the word.
“Leave her alone!” I yelled.
“Mind your own business.”
I did something I’ve never done before. I punched him in the face. It felt great. At least, until he staggered back to his feet and tried to wrestle me to the ground.
“Hey!” Elle yelled, as I pummeled him.
“Putain! Qu’est-ce que c’est que ce bordel?” he roared.
“Get out.” I dragged him towards the front door.
“I saw you through the window,” he hissed at me. “I know what’s going on. Don’t worry, she’s all yours, the frigid little bitch.”
“Va te faire foudre,” I snarled. I gave him another satisfying punch to the face before slamming the door on him.
I went back into the kitchen, where I found Elle crumpled in a heap on the floor, sobbing. Molly was usually the one to comfort Elle when she was upset, so I was at a bit of a loss. I crawled down next to her and shifted her gently so that I could sit behind her---around her, with one leg thrown over hips and one of her arms around my shoulder. It was a complicated position. She just let me maneuver her into it, though, sobbing all the while. I knew there was more going on that just what had happened. It was Bob, and the gaps in her childhood memories, and everything. I let her have her cry, hugging her close and rubbing her shoulders.
“So what happened last night?” I asked, when the sobs had finally subsided into sniffles.
“What do you think happened?” She whimpered into my shoulder.
“I’m going to kill that son-of-a-bitch,” I growled, feeling scarily Sylar-like.
“No, no, it really wasn’t that bad. I short-circuited his apartment and slipped out in the dark when I realized what was up. Nothing actually happened, but it would have. I just freaked out. We were supposed to go out tonight, and I didn’t know how to get out of it, so I just tried disappearing. I didn’t think he would think we were still on after I ran away like that last night. I never thought he would come to the house. I’m so sorry.” She snuggled in so close that I could feel the dampness of her face wetting my neck.
“Why didn’t you tell me? We were together for hours today and you didn’t say a word.”
“I dunno. Just wanted to pretend nothing was wrong. That’s what I’ve been doing all week.”
“This has been going on for a week?!?”
“No, I just sort of felt that something was off, but I didn’t know how to make the whole thing stop. Maybe he isn’t actually a douche. The problem is that I can’t tell. I thought I knew what I wanted. I wanted a normal sort of romance with someone who isn’t in a cell. But I don’t really know what normal is. I think I got in over my head. Maybe I should have started off with teenage boys, you know, on the same experience level.”
“Or maybe just someone who isn’t a stranger,” I murmured, hoping she would understand.
“Yeah, but…” I knew she was about to say something clueless about not having anyone who wasn’t a stranger, so I started kissing her earlobe. It was there, just under my lips, asking to be kissed, so I did it.
“I know this is probably completely the wrong time,” I whispered into her ear, stroking the hair away, “especially after everything that just happened a few minutes ago, but…” I paused when she started to turn in my arms to face me.
She smacked me. Hard.
“Don’t pity kiss me!”
“I’m not! I was about to kiss you outside the house a few minutes ago. Or did you not notice?”
“Right,” she shrugged sheepishly. “You were saying?”
“You really don’t make it easy, Elle.” Before she could say or do anything else to weaken my resolve, I leaned forward and kissed her nose, as a kind of warm-up. When she didn’t flinch, I slid my lips down to her mouth and gathered her in close to me, as gently as possible. She was tense and hesitant for a second, but then kissed me back. We stayed on the kitchen floor like that for awhile; I’m not sure how long. We finally came up for air, and I wiped away some of her residual tears. I cradled her head in my hands and she played with one of my curls.
“You were really badass,” she grinned.
“Well, you know me,” I grinned, rather pleased with myself.
“Yeah, I do. That’s why I’m so shocked.” We stuck our tongues out at each other, and ended up bringing them to touch. She became a little more serious. “So… what’s happens now?”
“Well, nothing really, since I’m leaving tomorrow. But when I get back… whatever you want,” I told her. “You can think about it while I’m gone.”
“Oh. Your trip. I forgot.” She started to sit up on her own. Without her snuggled against me, I suddenly felt cold. We both started to stretch our limbs. When she stood up, I followed her lead.
“This is ok, right? We’re ok?” She was looking at me strangely as we made our way upstairs. I had been afraid this would happen.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” she asked stiffly.
“I don’t know. No reason.”
We stood awkwardly outside our bedroom doors.
“I probably won’t see you in the morning,” she said quietly.
“Probably not,” I replied, and grabbed her again, a little more assertively this time. She kissed back more hesitantly than the first time, but then eased into it. When I finally released her, she gave me a mysteriously sad smile.
“Don’t get killed,” she said, and went into her room without another word.
Strange, to the last.
Next up, Part 7: "Hi mom, I'm living in sin."style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">