Brief Encounter
For the crossover meme, and for c_quinn.
Title: Brief Encounter
Fandoms: Reaper and Heroes
Characters: Peter Petrelli and the Devil.
Summary: Quick, meaningless moment of conversation between Peter and the Devil, in a hospital cafeteria.
“Excuse me, young man.”
Peter looked up, from carefully swirling his pudding around in its plastic container, to a sharp white smile and gleaming blue eyes, tan skin and immaculate suit, carefully carrying a beige cafeteria tray.
“Mind if I join you?”
“No, no, of course not,” he said, scrambling to clear the space across the table of the used napkins and straw coverings and pudding containers that had accumulated, waving a hand at the empty seat. “Sit, sit.”
The man grinned widely at him, settling confident but not especially graceful in front of him, and Peter felt a little taken a back, but chalked it up to the guy maybe being a little nervous.
Hospitals brought out the worst in people, after all.
But also the best, sometimes, if you knew how to look.
“Hi,” he smiled, comforting, and held out his hand. “I’m Peter.”
“Jerry,” another flash of too-white teeth, as the man took his hand.
Hung on a bit too long, firm, smooth fingers around his own, winked, and oh. That was it, then.
“Pleased to meet you,” he mumbled, blushing, as he carefully pulled his hand away. “Jerry.”
“So, Peter,” the man grinned, picking up a spoon with exaggerated care, “Tell me, Pete, what’s a nice young man like you doing in a place like this?”
Peter couldn’t help but laugh, as the man chuckled into his soup.
“Lame, I know,” Jerry shook his head, gave him an almost bashful smile. “But give me a break, kid, I’m kind of out of practice.”
“I, uh, I work here,” he said, finally. Opened up another cup of pudding. “Nurse. Well. Nurse in training. I’m just, you know, loading up on energy, right now. Why are you…I mean…if you…if you’re comfortable…saying…uh.”
“Relax, kiddo,” the man said, smoothly, eyes crinkling in amusement as he reached across the table to pat his arm amiably. “I’m just checking in on a couple of clients. Nothing embarrassing about that at all. Well,” Jerry paused, and winked at him again. “Not for me, at least.”
Peter took in the precisely windsored blue silk tie, that he couldn’t help notice matched the man’s eyes perfectly, and nodded.
“Oh,” he frowned. “You’re a lawyer.”
“Contracts, mostly but,” the man tilted his head, gave him a wise look. “You got something against lawyers, Pete?”
“You mean besides how they can say things that are one hundred percent true and still manage to be dishonest?” he shrugged, “No, not really. My dad’s a lawyer. So’s my brother.”
“Huh,” Jerry said, pleasantly, sipping at his soup. “And you decided to be a nurse?”
“Yeah,” he said, scrapping the edges of the plastic cup for any remaining pudding traces. “I decided to be a nurse. I wanted to make a difference, you know? ”
“You wouldn’t want to be something else?” the man smiled, mild, meeting his eyes. “A doctor, maybe? Make a difference in a bigger way? Cure a disease, or something like that? Because I think you could do it, Peter, just with a little help….”
Peter rolled his eyes, considered walking away but it would’ve been rude.
“Look, Jerry,” he tried to smile, reached over for another pudding.
“See, that’s nice,” the man interrupted, voice soft, soothing. “Sorry, but you…you should smile more often, Pete, it’s lovely.”
“Well,” he blinked, shook his head, “Thanks, Jerry, but-“
“But nothing, kiddo,” Jerry grinned at him, pointed the spoon in his direction. “If someone isn’t telling you that at least once a day then there is seriously something wrong with the world, right?”
“There's lots of things wrong with the world, Jerry,” he blushed, again, fidgeted with the aluminum lid of one of his many pudding cups. “But I don’t think that’s really one of them.”
“You don’t like the world, Peter?” the man said, and Peter glanced up again to catch a fading glimmer of excitement in the man’s eyes.
“I didn’t say that,” he rushed out, “I just said that there’s things wrong with it.”
“Well, what’s the difference, kiddo?” Jerry chuckled, genially. “I mean, I’d say if you think there’s something wrong with it then-“
“Then I have to try to fix it,” he said, heard how earnest he sounded, but didn’t really care, because based on experience, there really wasn’t any way to say that that didn’t make him sound like a twelve year old Pollyanna.
“As a nurse? You could be doing so much more, Peter. I can tell, you’re a smart kid, if you just-“
“Applied myself?” he laughed again, “No offense, Jerry, but if you’re trying to make me all ambitious you’re about 22 years behind the curve.”
“You sure about that, Pete?”
“Pretty sure,” he shrugged, and then smiled. “Besides, you…you have clients, right? Aren’t the ones you work with, one on one, day to day, the best? Because you really do make a difference in their lives that way. That’s all I’m doing, making people’s lives better, one person a time. Just like you do.”
“Is that right?” the man raised an eyebrow, and seemed to be holding back a laugh.
“Sure it is,” he smiled. “I mean, you even make hospital visits, so I’m thinking, you’re a pretty good guy, right?”
Or the worse kind of guy, Peter’s mind reminded him, but the guy was altogether too well dressed to be that kind of ambulance chaser, preying on the desperate and the destitute, so he ignored it.
“Well, it’s nice to hear someone say so,” Jerry said, tone surprisingly sharp, before his face broke into its brightest grin yet.
“Yeah, uh,” he stammered, surprisingly enthralled by beaming blue eyes, but trying to blink away their influence. “I have to get going. My break’s almost up, and I have to clean all this up, so,” he stopped gathering the detritus of his sugar and dairy binge onto his tray, “It was nice meeting you, Jerry.”
“Ditto, kid,” the man held his hand out again, and winked. “I mean…ditto, Peter.”
And he let the man’s fingers linger against his own, before pulling away, dropping his tray on the conveyer belt that would take it to the back room, and heading back upstairs.
*
Title: Brief Encounter
Fandoms: Reaper and Heroes
Characters: Peter Petrelli and the Devil.
Summary: Quick, meaningless moment of conversation between Peter and the Devil, in a hospital cafeteria.
“Excuse me, young man.”
Peter looked up, from carefully swirling his pudding around in its plastic container, to a sharp white smile and gleaming blue eyes, tan skin and immaculate suit, carefully carrying a beige cafeteria tray.
“Mind if I join you?”
“No, no, of course not,” he said, scrambling to clear the space across the table of the used napkins and straw coverings and pudding containers that had accumulated, waving a hand at the empty seat. “Sit, sit.”
The man grinned widely at him, settling confident but not especially graceful in front of him, and Peter felt a little taken a back, but chalked it up to the guy maybe being a little nervous.
Hospitals brought out the worst in people, after all.
But also the best, sometimes, if you knew how to look.
“Hi,” he smiled, comforting, and held out his hand. “I’m Peter.”
“Jerry,” another flash of too-white teeth, as the man took his hand.
Hung on a bit too long, firm, smooth fingers around his own, winked, and oh. That was it, then.
“Pleased to meet you,” he mumbled, blushing, as he carefully pulled his hand away. “Jerry.”
“So, Peter,” the man grinned, picking up a spoon with exaggerated care, “Tell me, Pete, what’s a nice young man like you doing in a place like this?”
Peter couldn’t help but laugh, as the man chuckled into his soup.
“Lame, I know,” Jerry shook his head, gave him an almost bashful smile. “But give me a break, kid, I’m kind of out of practice.”
“I, uh, I work here,” he said, finally. Opened up another cup of pudding. “Nurse. Well. Nurse in training. I’m just, you know, loading up on energy, right now. Why are you…I mean…if you…if you’re comfortable…saying…uh.”
“Relax, kiddo,” the man said, smoothly, eyes crinkling in amusement as he reached across the table to pat his arm amiably. “I’m just checking in on a couple of clients. Nothing embarrassing about that at all. Well,” Jerry paused, and winked at him again. “Not for me, at least.”
Peter took in the precisely windsored blue silk tie, that he couldn’t help notice matched the man’s eyes perfectly, and nodded.
“Oh,” he frowned. “You’re a lawyer.”
“Contracts, mostly but,” the man tilted his head, gave him a wise look. “You got something against lawyers, Pete?”
“You mean besides how they can say things that are one hundred percent true and still manage to be dishonest?” he shrugged, “No, not really. My dad’s a lawyer. So’s my brother.”
“Huh,” Jerry said, pleasantly, sipping at his soup. “And you decided to be a nurse?”
“Yeah,” he said, scrapping the edges of the plastic cup for any remaining pudding traces. “I decided to be a nurse. I wanted to make a difference, you know? ”
“You wouldn’t want to be something else?” the man smiled, mild, meeting his eyes. “A doctor, maybe? Make a difference in a bigger way? Cure a disease, or something like that? Because I think you could do it, Peter, just with a little help….”
Peter rolled his eyes, considered walking away but it would’ve been rude.
“Look, Jerry,” he tried to smile, reached over for another pudding.
“See, that’s nice,” the man interrupted, voice soft, soothing. “Sorry, but you…you should smile more often, Pete, it’s lovely.”
“Well,” he blinked, shook his head, “Thanks, Jerry, but-“
“But nothing, kiddo,” Jerry grinned at him, pointed the spoon in his direction. “If someone isn’t telling you that at least once a day then there is seriously something wrong with the world, right?”
“There's lots of things wrong with the world, Jerry,” he blushed, again, fidgeted with the aluminum lid of one of his many pudding cups. “But I don’t think that’s really one of them.”
“You don’t like the world, Peter?” the man said, and Peter glanced up again to catch a fading glimmer of excitement in the man’s eyes.
“I didn’t say that,” he rushed out, “I just said that there’s things wrong with it.”
“Well, what’s the difference, kiddo?” Jerry chuckled, genially. “I mean, I’d say if you think there’s something wrong with it then-“
“Then I have to try to fix it,” he said, heard how earnest he sounded, but didn’t really care, because based on experience, there really wasn’t any way to say that that didn’t make him sound like a twelve year old Pollyanna.
“As a nurse? You could be doing so much more, Peter. I can tell, you’re a smart kid, if you just-“
“Applied myself?” he laughed again, “No offense, Jerry, but if you’re trying to make me all ambitious you’re about 22 years behind the curve.”
“You sure about that, Pete?”
“Pretty sure,” he shrugged, and then smiled. “Besides, you…you have clients, right? Aren’t the ones you work with, one on one, day to day, the best? Because you really do make a difference in their lives that way. That’s all I’m doing, making people’s lives better, one person a time. Just like you do.”
“Is that right?” the man raised an eyebrow, and seemed to be holding back a laugh.
“Sure it is,” he smiled. “I mean, you even make hospital visits, so I’m thinking, you’re a pretty good guy, right?”
Or the worse kind of guy, Peter’s mind reminded him, but the guy was altogether too well dressed to be that kind of ambulance chaser, preying on the desperate and the destitute, so he ignored it.
“Well, it’s nice to hear someone say so,” Jerry said, tone surprisingly sharp, before his face broke into its brightest grin yet.
“Yeah, uh,” he stammered, surprisingly enthralled by beaming blue eyes, but trying to blink away their influence. “I have to get going. My break’s almost up, and I have to clean all this up, so,” he stopped gathering the detritus of his sugar and dairy binge onto his tray, “It was nice meeting you, Jerry.”
“Ditto, kid,” the man held his hand out again, and winked. “I mean…ditto, Peter.”
And he let the man’s fingers linger against his own, before pulling away, dropping his tray on the conveyer belt that would take it to the back room, and heading back upstairs.
*