A Lover's Alibi (Chapter One)

[superkappa]

Title: A Lover’s Alibi (Chapter One)

Rating: NC-17 for later content

Pairing: Gabriel/Elle

Author: superkappa and petitebelette

Summary: Elle decides to tell Gabriel the truth and stay with him instead of betraying him.

Author’s Note: This is the epic that we’ve been working on/talking about for a while now based on our Rps. Beta'd by the fantastic dragynflies.


Elle had a teeny tiny little problem. Besides the obvious-the obvious being she didn't know the first thing about ziti and therefore was skeptical when she should take it out of the oven and if she should have brought bread? Wait, wait. She was getting off track.

The problem was she was wired. There were cameras in Gabriel's apartment, Noah was listening and watching, and she was feeling increasingly uneasy. Trevor-greasy disgusting ugh Trevor-would be here soon, and her fake smile felt strained.

She was used to pretending. She was good at it. If anyone were to grade her on her duping skills, she'd be an A+. Noah said it was because she never felt guilty, so she could fake it without anyone suspecting her. But she did feel guilty-this time she felt so guilty she was sure her insides were tangling all up and she was also sure she knew why.

Because despite Noah's reminders about orders and about how Gabriel was so so so much more dangerous than she realized... she didn't care. She didn't want to fake it. She didn't want to make Gabriel attack Trevor (even though she hated him-he'd been pretty handsy when she'd met with him the other day). She didn't want to make him do anything he didn't want to do.

She wanted to be a good girl for him. Not a good actress or a sociopath or a company girl or whatever anyone needed her to be, molding and shaping her to their tastes. She didn't want anyone's approval or praise. For the first time, she just wanted to be Elle.

She sighed and walked into the living room, clutching the ziti, rambling about art-something her sweet angelic character would care about-and she felt her tentative resolve falter as Gabriel breathed in her totally store-bought food and say they should maybe go in this hopeful deep voice she felt right down to her toes.

Any second now, Trevor would be here. Any second.

She couldn't return Gabriel's smile though, like she should have. Instead she heard herself blurting out something-like she was watching from far away, but she said it and she couldn't take it back.

"Gabriel, I'm not who you think I am."

So it wasn't the best ziti he had smelt, but he didn't care. After all she had made it. This beautiful woman that he still couldn't believe was a part of his life. She had come in like an angel, saving him in more ways than one.

She made his stomach nervous, but in a good way. When he was younger, such a beautiful girl never would have talked to him. Not that he liked most of them. They had been dirty, filthy, and not worth his time. But she... she was special. Someone who he could be himself with, and that would be enough.

He had never felt such an honest connection to another person in his life, and it kind of scared him, in all honesty.

He snapped out of his thoughts as he looked up at Elle, tilting his head in confusion at her words. His expression suddenly changed, almost darkened. Those words were anything but good.

"What do you mean?"

The darkness that settled over his gentle features took her breath away for a moment, and all she can do is stare, but eventually she found her breath again in a big whoosh. Her heart was suddenly beating loud and quick, and she wondered what Noah could be thinking right now and if Trevor's almost at the door and why her hands are starting to shake around the handles of the tray.

"I'm not-it’s not-I work for a company and I was sent here to make you use your powers." The words tumbled out, and tears immediately sprung to her eyes. "I bought the ziti."

"A company?" His voice darkened and his body felt like it was going to shake or tremor or something. He brought up his hands, grabbing her shoulders more roughly than he would have before. He had been so scared to even touch her, and yet right now, that entire hesitance seemed to be gone.

"Was anything, a single word of it, true?"

Her grip on the ziti slipped as he grabbed her; she couldn't stop it. It clattered to the ground between them but didn’t break. His grip hurt and she couldn’t look away from the betrayal in his eyes even if she wanted to.

She shook her head, and then panicked-because no, that wasn't the answer to his questions, not at all. "Yes!" Her heart jumped into her throat and lodged there. "Gabriel, it wasn't like that." She brought her hands up to clutch desperately at his pressed shirt. "I mean, it was, at first, but I-you’re not a monster. I care about you."

His brain was going a mile a minute. She lied to him. She played him for a fool. All of it, a lie. She had never meant to save him. He could almost taste the disgust in his mouth as his stomach turned. There was a ticking in his head, and it was all he could do to ignore it.

"How can I believe you?" he asked in a hoarse tone, his grip on her loosening.

Tonight was supposed to be perfect. He was going to profess his feelings, maybe try to kiss her. It was supposed to be perfect.

But now it was ruined.

His loosening grip doesn't reassure her, and his words even less so. She squeezed her fists, tugging at the fabric of his shirt, her eyes wide and pleading. She doesn't want him to let go.

"I mean it," she stressed. Her voice was loud and frantic even to her own ears. She never wanted anything more in her entire life. "I'll tell you everything," she said. "The company I work for-it’s a company for special people like us, with abilities. We keep track of them and lock them away if they're bad." She choked a little on an inhale-he had to believe her. "I don't know why they want to see what you can do but-but I know that's not who you want to be." She tried to breathe, but it was so hard and her shoulders slumped. "Gabriel, I'm so sorry. You have to know this is real, please. Us. That wasn't a lie."

Things clicked inside his head as she spoke, and suddenly, all he could focus on in one phrase of hers. People like us. Which meant... she had a power too. She had pretended to be so shocked about powers, the idea of being special, and here she was, she had one too.

"Show it to me," he whispered in a dark tone.

There was a voice in his head telling him to bash her head open like Brian's but he didn't want to. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe in her so badly.

"Show it to me, and I'll believe you."

The darkness in his voice flushed her with a heat that made her shiver-anticipation mixing in with her terror and exhilaration.

She managed to uncurl one of her hands and hold it, palm up between them. She didn’t look away from his eyes; she didn’t have to-she could hear the crackle of electricity, feel the hum of it contained in her palm.

He could kill her for it. That was the plan, with Trevor. Noah had been so sure seeing a demonstration would break him. She could have just signed her death warrant, but Elle didn't want to think like that.

It had been real for him too, right? He wouldn't.

He watched the sparks dance across her palm, his eyes dark with desire. It was so beautiful. And yet... he didn't want to take it. Well, he did, but he didn't.

He brought a hand up to brush some of her hair away from her face. Her skin felt soft and his heart leapt. He never would have dared touch her like this before. But she seemed more real now, more tangible in her flaws. Someone he could perhaps obtain.

"What will they do to you if you don't turn me?"

She wanted to cry at his touch, and it took a moment of pressed lips and a trembling exhales to hold back the tears.

He wasn't going to kill her. He'd just looked at her gift and touched her. She felt the relief hit her hard, and she only barely managed to coherently answer him. "I don't know," she answered honestly.

Any other agent... she wasn't sure. She knew they sometimes eliminated agents that hid people with abilities, but... her father loved her. He wouldn't order her to be killed, would he? He wouldn't listen if someone higher asked for it to happen. And plus it wasn't fair. Gabriel hadn't done anything wrong! Except for that one person, and it was just one.

"My dad-he’s in charge. I don't know what he'd do." She took in a deep breath, trying to ignore how gut wrenching it was that she didn't know. "Usually the agent would be killed."

"I won't let them kill you," There was a possessiveness in his voice that was probably unwarranted, but he didn't really care.

She tried to quell the gratefulness at his promise, but she couldn't. No one had ever wanted to take care of her. With a start, she looked to the window. "Noah. I'm with a partner. He's outside. He can hear us."

His body tensed at the idea of a partner outside. "He can hear us? Are you wired? Are there cameras?" His head whipped around, and he soon spotted where they've been planted. He twisted his hand; his telekinesis was still shaky, but good enough to disable them.

She tore quickly at the wire underneath her shirt at his question-she was so stupid; if only she'd planned this, she could have disabled it inconspicuously and saved them time. With a little jolt of electricity, the device was useless, and she threw it to the floor with obvious distaste. "He's in the van outside," she said, "and he was supposed to send this slimeball Trevor up here with powers to see if you'd kill him."

"What if we go out before Trevor arrives?" he asked. It seemed like a simple solution. If they weren't here, nothing could happen. "We can go out to dinner or something. That art show you were talking about."

Because he wanted to believe still that he can be just Gabriel. That he didn't have to be a killer. There was more to him than just the need to be special. If she was risking this much to be with him....

That had to mean something, right?

He was-he was a genius. Why didn't she think of that? "Yes!" she exclaimed, nodding. "A public place. He couldn't-there's no way he'd do anything in a public place."

Plus... it was a date. She'd never been on a real date before.

She smiled up at him, feeling a little coy at the thought.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked, feeling almost bashful suddenly.

He had been on a date before, more than one even, but they had never gone well. Gabriel Gray was many things, but a ladies' man he was not. He couldn't think of a single relationship that had ended well.

But maybe... maybe this time it would be different.

The danger in his eyes was all but extinguished, and even though a part of her almost... missed it, his sudden shyness was just as welcome. He was so... cute. "Uhm..." She looked down and made a little "oh" sound, dropping to her knees to the fallen-and consequently spilled all over his clean floors-ziti. "I'm so sorry!"

She heaved a frustrated sigh and looked up at him. "Anywhere that serves ziti," she answered bitterly.

He blinked a little in surprise, noticing the fallen Ziti for the first time now. He hadn't even noticed she dropped it, he had been so wrapped up in everything else that had been going on. He waved a hand dismissively. "I'll clean it up later."

He paused for a moment before smiling a bit, taking her hand to pull her back up. "I know a good Italian place nearby." His heart skipped a beat as his thumb brushed against the skin of her palm.

Maybe, just maybe, things would work out for him for once.

She nodded at his suggestion, her lips curling up into an involuntary smile. She rushed a little with delighted electricity at his lingering touch. "Let's go," she said and pulled him towards the door. "The faster we're outside the safer we'll be."

Plus-yay! A date. She was only a little annoyed she was wearing a frilly flowery shirt on her first date-she couldn't wait for next time; she'd knock his socks off with a nice short dress. Definitely a short dress.

But first they had to survive through the first one.

He rather liked the frilly flowery shirt she was wearing. It was... old fashioned. At least they matched when they dressed like this. Her with her frilly shirt, and him with his glasses and sweater vests. If she were wearing some amazing short skirt or something, he'd look way out of his league.

He still sort of felt like he was.

He shivered slightly at the electric static she emitted and kept his grasp on her hand (because it felt too nice to let go) as he led her out of the apartment. He locked everything up before looking around. Just where was this partner of hers?

"The place is just a block from here." He intended for them to walk. Like most New York locals, he didn't own a car.

"Okay," she said, excited, and squeezed his hand a little tighter. She glanced down the block, but the van was gone-where the hell was Noah? she thought, and why wasn't he doing his damn job and coming after her? She leaned into Gabriel and told him the van was gone, making sure to deliberately press against his side-just because he felt warm and nice, and she didn't feel guilty touching him anymore.

Something was wrong here, with Noah, but she thought resolutely, she was going to enjoy the evening without worrying too much about it. They'd cross that bridge when they came to it and all that.

He felt a warm, familiar sensation run through his body as she pressed against him a little, making it harder to focus on her words. Or worry too much, really.

He led her down the street, and finally into the familiar Italian restaurant.

The hostess, Daniella, looked up at him with a surprised look. "A table for two tonight?"

Gabriel frowned a little at how surprised she sounded. Of course, he usually did eat alone, or with his mother, but that was hardly the point. He merely nodded a little. "A table for two would be fine."

Elle couldn't help but frown at the girl's surprised question too-and looked up at Gabriel to discern his expression.

Hmpf, she inwardly sounded. Not that she wanted to hear he brought parades of girls here-but it still annoyed her a bit to hear no one was interested. He may wear cardigans, but he was... nice. And thoughtful. And so what, the glasses were nerdy. Nerdy could be cute. And he was sort of dangerous too. He was the whole package. Peter Parker meets... some hot villain. (Her comic book knowledge was limited.)

Anyway, she made a point to swing his arm over her shoulders, and bring a hand up to touch his cheek, making sure there was no space between them and no question as to what they were to each other. "Yep, two," she confirmed. She wanted to zap the tip of his nose, but held back. "I like it here. It's cozy."

A slight blush spread across his cheeks as she pressed even closer to him. He had a feeling this was going to be a long night, in more ways than one.

He couldn't help but feel a little grateful once the hostess handed them their menus and led them to a tiny booth. He waited for Elle to sit before sitting opposite of her.

He smiled just a bit. "I like it here too." As made evident by the fact that the hostess recognized him.

"Come here often?" She knew the answer, obviously, but wanted a bit more clarification. Eating alone sounded well, lonely. She should know; she was treated like a leper at The Company.

She took a sip of her water and pondered over the menu.

"Often enough," he replied with a small shrug of his shoulders. "Sometimes I get bored of making dinner for myself."

He didn't mention the fact that when he didn't eat alone, his companion was usually his mother. No need to make himself sound like Norman Bates.

...And if he was going to actually date Elle, he'd eventually have to introduce her to his mother... which might go badly. Virginia never liked his girlfriends, few and far between they might be. But he would cross that bridge when the time came.

"I know the feeling," she said, and then smirked, flicking her eyes up at him. "Well, no I don't. But The Company kind of feels like a prison sometimes, so I go out to eat as an excuse."

She ignored the pang she felt talking about The Company, and how it reminded her about her dad and the trouble she was in. It felt good to be candid. In fact, she'd never been so candid, on an assignment or not.

She liked dating Gabriel for real.

He listened carefully and then suddenly looked a little mournful as he realized something.

"That pie was store bought too, wasn't it?"

He wasn't sure why it was such a disappointment, but it kind of was. He had liked the idea that she had baked it with him in mind. That a part of her had been baked in it. Made with love, or something to that effect.

She looked unseeingly down at the menu for a moment, hunching her shoulders a little shamefully. "Yeah..." she admitted, and peeked up at him. "I'm not really good at cooking..." She smiled a little wickedly and reached to touch his hand, discreetly generating a jolt-which she felt touching him with or without her electricity. "Just sparks."

He couldn't help but smirk a little as the jolt jumped out at him, causing a shiver to run down his spine. The pie disappointment was forgotten almost right away.

He took her hand into his own, threading their fingers carefully. "Lots of women can cook. But you're the only one I know who can do that. That makes you special."

Her smile grew into a wide grin. She couldn't help but fidget a little uncontrollably in her seat from pleasure. He liked it.

"We're both special, Gabriel," she reminded him.

"I do believe you've mentioned that before."

It was nice to know that at least that part of, the part where she had believed he really was special, even just as Gabriel, had not been a lie.

"I meant it," she said with absolution, and then smiled down at the menu for an extended moment. She trailed over eyes over the dishes-truthfully she'd already decided on the Chicken Marsala, but she felt particularly red in the face at the intense look in his eyes. She wondered if all dates were like this.

He broke out in a genuine smile at that. "I'm glad to hear that, then."

He'd probably get the eggplant. That's what he usually got, and he didn't see any reason to change that now.

"So, there's probably stuff I should tell you about, since we're being honest and all," she started after a silent comfortable moment. She was sort of bursting with it; she was sure that despite everyone else deciding she was a vicious freak, he'd understand her unpopular quirks. She hoped. "I don't normally dress like Suzy Homemaker." She started off small. "And I'm kind of a little bit a pathological liar. Not like-you know-before," she stammered, "but sometimes things just come out of my mouth and they are completely untrue little fibs. Also, I like hurting people. Daddy makes me see annoying psychiatrists that say I'm a 'mild sociopath'."

She smiled tightly at him, waiting. All cards on the table.

Gabriel remained quiet for a moment or two, unsure of how he should respond to all this new information. It was a lot to take in.

"I'm not really as self-conscious as I act," he admitted softly, deciding to return her gesture with some honesty of his own. "I don't get out so much because I'm shy as much as I think most people aren't worth my time."

She sighed a little at his soft confession and leaned forward, happy he hadn't freaked out. Most people looked at her different after they realized... but no matter.

That sounded like him-especially since he was obsessed with being special. "I think I get it," she responded. "I pretend to be a lot of things I'm not. I don't know why," she shrugged. "I get... bored. Why do you?"

"Because I thought it was the way I had to be," Gabriel confessed quietly. "My parents were so painfully mundane. The watchmaker's son becomes the watchmaker. It seems so... futile sometimes to try to be anything else."

"But..." She trailed off, furrowing her brows. "Gabriel, you are special. And not just because you can take powers and move things with your mind," she added with a slight smile. "You're really smart. You can do whatever you want." Before, those words would have been tainted with an ulterior motive; now she just meant them. "Why deny who you really are?" she asked; she might lie about things, but she never lied to herself about who she was at least. "So," she said, and took his other hand. "Who do you want to be?"

He couldn't help but smile a little as she took his hand once more. "I'm not sure," He admitted, looking down, as he suddenly felt embarrassed. "I always knew I wanted to be more than this... But I never figured it out. But maybe I don't have to. Maybe just being a watchmaker is enough."

"If that's what you want," she replied, and gave his hand a little squeeze. She smiled; enticed by the normalcy of the idea. Not for the first time, Elle wished she had been born a nice family someplace normal-like here in Queens. And she could have grown up and went to school with other kids and met Gabriel and-she stopped herself. It was a silly fantasy.

He was about to respond to her when he heard the waitress clear her throat.

"Eggplant Parmesan and a bottle of Merlot. Is that okay for you Elle, or do you prefer white wine?" he asked with a tilt of his head.

"Red's perfect," she responded, pleased he'd asked. "I'll have the Chicken Marsala," she ordered, and offered her menu up. The waitress took both hers and Gabriel's with a smile and left.

It was silent for a moment, and she just looked at him. She considered saying something outlandish and surprising to soothe the nervous tension she felt-every now and then throughout the past ten minutes she'd feel an excited spark usually accompanied with the thought: "he believed me; we're on a date!"-but instead she kept her lips sealed, no matter how much she wanted to see his reaction if she were to tell him she wasn't wearing any panties. (She was, though.)

Gabriel fell silent as well, unsure of what to ask her about. Dates were not his forte.

"So... what sorts of things do you like?"

She smirked slyly. "Watchmakers." She plucked a piece of bread from the basket and nibbled on the edge. "Electricity, fashion, Saturday morning cartoons, slushies, Italian food-did I mention watchmakers?" As she listed every item, the waitress approached the table ad silently poured them their wine.

"You did mention that a few times," he replied with a chuckle and a bashful smile. He hesitated before adding. "I... I really like you too."

She smiled, pleased and blushing a little from his confession. No one had ever liked her like that before. She wasn't a virgin or anything-but she'd sorely missed out on dating and stomach butterflies for letting her curiosity get the better of her with Adam... once or twice. Looking at Gabriel, she almost regretted it.

"So..." She trailed off and distractedly picked apart her bread. She wasn't exactly sure what to say now. Suddenly telling him something inappropriate seemed... uncalled for at the moment. "I've never been on a date before. Help me out. What happens now?"

He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm probably not the best person to ask." His dates had never gone well in the past. "I guess we'll have to figure out as we go," he commented, picking up his glass of wine and taking a sip from it.

"Okay," she quipped. "How come though?" she asked curiously, her attention piqued. She leaned forward a little and narrowed her eyes with interest. "What were your other dates like?"

He felt embarrassed suddenly underneath her gaze. He really had little experience in this area.

"Short lived, most of them."

She frowned-again she felt the displeasure of knowing no one else must have appreciated him. Plus, she was curious. She wanted to know about him, and just about every day normal life in general.

"Why didn't they work out?" she pressed.

"Most of the time, lack of common interest," he replied with a shrug.

It was true. Most girls found him too dull and he found most girls to be too dumb, too ordinary.

Her smile faltered, but hardly an inch and only for a moment. She hoped she wasn't going to be one of those girls-she couldn't help the crawling fear, but brushed it off like she did so many things, and swallowed it down with a sizable sip of wine.

They shared common interests, she told herself. No need to get any panties in a twist over her fear of abandonment, she reasoned. Suck it up, Elle.

"Well, their loss is my gain," she said with a wry smile, tilting her head to the side. "Did you know I'm not wearing any panties?"

Oops. Well, she'd held out for a few moments, at least.

Gabriel choked on his wine, sputtering at her words.

He gasped slightly, pounding on his chest.

Had she just said what... what he thought she said? And why was he somewhat happy to hear that?

He finally steadied his breathing out enough to mutter.

"Excuse me... what?"

She giggled a little in reply. Totally worth it.

She propped her chin in her hands, and watched him intently, deciding why the hell not. She was short, but the table was quite small, so she slipped her foot from her shoe and managed to cross their ankles, slowly rubbing up and down his calf.

"You heard what I said, Gabriel," she said, eyes glinting. "You can check if you don't believe me."

Gabriel just gaped a little at that. He didn't know what to do. On one hand, part of him wanted to check... but on the other hand, that would be highly improper, especially in such a public place.

Her foot rubbing against him was not helping though.

"Th-that's fine," He managed to stammer out, trying to keep control over himself still.

She heaved a sad little sigh and leaned casually back into her seat, smirking as her foot slid up to his knee. "Are you sure?" she asked, and slowly unbent straightened? her leg, moving it back and forth on his thigh. "You could just come over here for a sec," she said, patting the booth beside her. "No one would see."

He shuddered softly as her foot slipped up to his thigh. In the past, he had always been disgusted when a girl came on so strongly. It was so improper but with Elle... he didn't mind at all.

Still, with her foot brushing against him like that, it was hard to keep self-control, especially when if she shifted her leg just a little more, she'd be able to tell just how much he was really enjoying it.

"No," he croaked out, shaking his head. "It's fine."

"Well then, that's no fun," she pouted, but she was actually having plenty of fun. Idly, she cradled her wine glass and took a sip--she stretched her leg just a little more and couldn't help the nearly inaudible gasp that escaped her when she brushed up against his arousal.

Elle was a tease-it was a fact. She liked provoking this sort of response all the time, but for some reason this time it was sort of... scary as much as it was exhilarating, because she wasn't just teasing. But what she'd done with Adam wasn't just teasing either... she hadn't been scared at all. But then again, it hadn't meant anything, she realized.

The waitress took that precise moment to arrive with their dishes, and Elle sat perfectly still, the base of her foot still rubbing him gently.

"Thank god!" she announced with a smile, and put down her glass. "I was starving!"

"Me too," he murmured softly, his voice underlined with desire. He'd been with one or two girls in the past, but he couldn't remember wanting any of them as much as he wanted her right now. The way her foot pressed against him made it hard to concentrate and he had to bite his tongue, tasting the copper tone of blood to prevent himself from making an audible response.

Instead he tried to focus on eating his food, though if anyone had asked him about it, he'd have a hard time telling you whether it was any good or not.

She sat back and watched him try to act unaffected, playing with the Marsala sauce instead of eating, despite her claim of hunger. This had to be much, much better than the food on her plate.

She smirked a little and popped a piece of chicken into her mouth after a moment. "Is it any good?" she asked.

He glanced down at his almost untouched meal before looking up at Elle, smiling just a little. "Very," came his response. Considering how little he had eaten, he was obviously not talking about the food.

It was true though; he was enjoying her attention, even if he was trying to hide how much.

"Can I have some?" she asked innocently, leaning forward enough to part her lips slightly, expecting him to feed her a bite. She made a point to slow her caress, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Sure," he replied, smiling a little as he got an idea. It was really kind of improper, but if she was going to tease, maybe it was okay for him to do so too. He cut up a piece of his eggplant before placing it between his teeth, leaning over the table to offer it to her.

At the very least, it was a good roundabout way to get a kiss out of her.

She just about jumped out of her skin in girlish excitement, and unfortunately had to bring her foot down to reach his lips, coming out of her seat just enough. She held his jaw and took the eggplant from him, tongue brushing against his with a spark. It was good, but she hardly chewed it before swallowing and pressing her lips back against his with a shiver of delight.

He couldn't help but groan softly against her lips as she sparked against him. Her lips were so soft, so warm. He couldn't get over the fact that he was actually kissing them.

He brought a hand up to brush some of her hair away, cupping her chin as he deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue over hers.

A little voice in the back of his head reminded him that it was improper to make out with her in the middle of a restaurant, but he couldn't get himself to care.

Impropriety was the furthest thing from Elle's mind. It wasn't something she was naturally inclined to be concerned about in the first place. No, she was thinking about his gentle, big hand holding her chin and the kiss he was giving her. Definitely the sort of kiss that made her groan right back at him. She lowered a hand, fingers feathering down his neck before holding onto his tie. She whispered his name between their lips, annoyed at the table between them.

Finally, he reluctantly pulled away from her, allowing his hand to remain cupping her chin.

"Elle... I..."

He trailed off, unsure of what to say. Part of him wondered if he was a fool for trusting her when she had already lied. But a bigger part didn't care.

She held her breath and pulled away, all but stumbling around the table to sit beside him. She felt alive, like at any second she might burst with electricity, and she just needed to be closer. No one had ever kissed her like it meant something before, and no one had ever said her name like that. It felt... important. "What?" she murmured, searching his eyes, inclining her body towards him.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer to him without giving it a second thought. He felt nervous, like he was in high school again, trying to keep the attention of a girl who was way out of his league.

"Maybe... maybe we should get our check," he suggested in a husky tone, despite the fact that they had barely touched their food.

He idly wondered if her partner would be waiting for them back at his apartment. Or that guy he was supposed to kill, Trevor. But they would cross that bridge when they got to it.

"Okay," she whispered with a soft, instant smile. She placed a hand on his thigh and snuggled further into his embrace, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

They had to be careful, she knew; but no one-not even stupid Noah or Trevor-would get in their way, she'd make sure of it. Gabriel was good, and she'd proven Noah and her daddy wrong. He hadn't taken her powers.

She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that it wouldn't matter to them one bit anyway, so she held onto him a little tighter.

He waved over the waitress, handing her his credit card before turning back towards Elle.

His hand rubbed the side of her arm as he tried to hide his growing apprehension from her. The gnawing feeling in his stomach made him think things were going too well to be true.

"Was there anything else you wanted to do before going back to my apartment?"

She pondered the question, and looked up at him wryly, resting her arm across his chest. "Does running away sound okay with you?" she asked softly. She was kidding. Only half.

"Where would we go?" he asked, blinking in confusion. He made decent money as a watchmaker, but not great.

She bit down hard on her lip for a moment and shook her head. She hated this, all of it. It just wasn't fair. "Don't you get it, Gabriel?" she said, anguished. "They're not going to stop. They want you; you're important." She heaved a shaking sigh and looked down.

"I won't let them have me," he replied, his voice growing darker. "I'm not going to run away like some sort of coward."

She sucked in air and looked up into his determined eyes; the darkness there soothed her fear when before it had scared her half to death. "Of course not," she said in a small voice, and the steel in his gaze strengthened her. "Of course you're not." Her heart fluttered; despite their situation, he was still brave, and it made her feel better he was steadfast but terrified he'd get hurt because of it. "I'm just... worried. You don't know what The Company is like. Ruthless."

"And if we run away, won't they just chase after us?" he pointed out, his will unmoved. "I'll just have to prove to them that I'm not someone they can play with.”

"Yes." She took a deep breath and nodded. "And I know. And we will." She smiled and took his hand. "Together."

He smiled, his face softening as he squeezed her hand. Maybe, just maybe things would be okay.

The waitress came back with the check and he signed it. He rose to his feet, offering his hand to Elle. "Shall we?"

"We shall," she said, and accepted his hand, threading her fingers through his and holding on. Time to face the music and all that. If there was music to face. They'd find out.