Romances of Maury Parkman, Chapter 3: Friends with Benefits
She waited a couple weeks before calling him. Finding his phone number wasn't too difficult. He was a director and many agents had the director's numbers in case of emergency, if something needed to be escalated and they couldn't contact their immediate superior. She didn't have much of a conversation, though. He was busy. He was short with her. He hung up on her.
She called back a few days later. Maybe he really had been busy. It wasn't like he didn't have a lot of Company work to do. Maybe she'd called at a bad time. He answered on the second ring and made sure it was her. After that, he was abusive and mean and told her in no uncertain terms that he didn't have time to spend coddling new agents. She was not to call him again unless it was about business, then he hung up on her. Again. She turned off her phone carefully and thought about it. Her heart hammered in her chest. All she'd wanted to do was talk. She tried not to think about how she felt - used and cast aside just like Matt had done to her. Instead she threw herself into her new job.
That worked for a while. When her training was done they shipped her off to Portland on assignment, then Odessa. Thanksgiving slipped by while she was in Texas. It was lonely and unmarked. Most of the agents had families. Those who didn't seemed more content with being loners than she was, or perhaps they just had more practice at it. She didn't ask. She was shipped back to Philadelphia to support project management at the new Pinehearst facility construction in Fort Lee, New Jersey. Christmas stole up to her as the days marched past. She devised a plan: if she couldn't call, she'd visit.
Finding out where he lived was easier than she'd expected. Apparently it was well known among the agents that the directors spied on each other constantly, so her inquiries didn't stand out. They tended to use outside security firms, but various Company employees got called in often enough that she only had to go through three people before she found one who knew what she needed. He could even show her the live security feed on Maury's apartment.
She sank down in her chair and looked in wonder at the dingy, green-painted abode. She'd expected… more. Angela Petrelli lived in a mansion. Gabriel, or Nathan Petrelli, or Mr. Grey, or Sylar or whatever that shape shifter was calling himself this week lived almost as well. The third director lived in a rundown, one bedroom apartment in Philadelphia decorated in a style out of fashion for at least thirty years. It wasn't obsessively tidy or terribly messy - it just looked lived in and comfortable in a shabby sort of way. He had an area set up for a home office in the fairly large living room, a cramped kitchen and bathroom, and a single bedroom.
"Does he ever have anyone in there with him?" she asked, gesturing at the bedroom on the screen.
Chuck laughed. He had straight, chocolate brown hair and sideburns that came down to the corners of his mouth. It was a strange style, but he was strange too, so it fit. "Uh… Mr. Parkman? Are you kidding? He's like… ancient. No, he never has anyone in there with him. I mean, not even in his whole apartment. Wait… he had some computer tech there last month, installing a video conferencing set up, so I suppose he's not one of those weirdoes who's too paranoid to let other people see where they live. But he doesn't have guests, if that's what you mean. I don't think he has any friends at all. He's all business, all the time."
She thought of several things to say to that, but none of them were appropriate to share. She nodded, thanked him and went back to asking general questions about security to cover her interest in this particular person and place. That evening she stopped by but Maury wasn't there. She tried the next morning but he was still out. She wondered if he was there and not answering. She hadn't heard anything, but maybe he could sense her through the door and hadn't moved. She went to the Philly containment facility. She'd heard he did a lot of his work there from the backup security station on the first floor.
She badged herself through the outer door, but the inner was restricted to the facility manager, regional manager and directors. She knew he was there. She'd already asked at main security. She knocked and waited. He opened the door and gave her a dull smile. "What do you want?"
She swallowed. "I want to talk to you." He frowned. She added, "You told me not to call."
"Not unless it was about work." He sounded tired, resigned.
"I don't want to talk about work," she said defiantly.
"I gathered."
He was still standing in the doorway, regarding her. She stepped closer, casting her eyes downward. "Let me in," she demanded softly.
He took a deep breath and stepped back. She entered. The door swung shut. He walked over and sat down, wheeling his chair over to a screen and rattling the mouse next to it. She felt dismissed, so she looked around the room. It wasn't very big, intended to be used in emergencies or for special projects. It also doubled as a secure office. File cabinets covered three walls and computer hardware the other. In the middle was a U-shaped set of monitors with stations for two observers and a clear area at the end set up as a desk.
Maury fiddled around on the screen for a bit and then turned back to her. "I've turned off active monitoring in here. For now." When she didn't say anything, he said, "Did you come here for a repeat?"
Not really. "Yeah," she said. She walked over to him and ran a hand over his shoulder, then down his chest a little, teasing. She leaned over him, pushing his chair back, waiting a few beats before going lower. He looked forward into her cleavage, which was her intention.
He reached up and put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her away before she could kneel before him. "That's not why you came here. How about we talk?" He felt the hurt his rejection caused. It passed through her like he'd slapped her, but she backed off and sat in the other chair.
She sighed and turned in place, rotating her seat one way and then the other. Her thoughts were in turmoil. "I want to be with you," she said, her voice small.
He looked at the ceiling. "I know. I got that. You're too young for me, Patty, and I'm too old. Go find some nice young man your own age."
She glared at him, thinking he hadn't been too old for her the times they'd been together before, indignant that he would dictate who she should be with based on age alone. She looked away. No 'nice young man' would come with his assets.
"What about the other agents?"
"I don't want to be with them," she said sullenly. "They're not interested in me anyway."
He chuckled. "Oh yes they are." She looked over at him. "They look at you when they think you're not looking. They think about you, about being with you. I know how people are. I know men." He looked her up and down. "You're a lovely woman, Patricia. You'd make any man you decided to share yourself with very, very happy."
I want to make you happy, she thought, clearly intending him to hear it.
He didn't respond to the projection. "There's a couple of them you've looked at yourself. You ought to ask them out, find out what they're like. The only men you've been with…" he trailed off, eyes distant as he confirmed what he'd only skimmed over in earlier encounters. He shook his head. "They're not good examples - high school kids, pot heads, johns… Matt wasn't in a good place."
"You've been nice to me," she interjected earnestly.
He sighed and blinked and looked away from her. Yeah, and this is what I get for it - a bunch of emotional angst. What was that saying? Time wounds all heels. "I'm not the only one who could be. Go find someone else."
She thought about leaving right then. She thought about it and discarded it. "Make me."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I don't want to go. I don't want to find someone else. I'm not going to unless you make me."
He laughed and shook his head ruefully. "Patty, Patty… I don't have to use my ability to never see you again."
She blinked. He'd seen her hired into the Company. He could see her fired. She hadn't thought about that. But it was okay, she reasoned. There were other groups out there and she knew that now. If he wouldn't have her, then she'd find someone who would, eventually.
"That's not what I meant," he grumbled.
She snapped her head around, glad that he'd confirmed he was reading her mind. He glanced up at her briefly, then away, annoyed.
"Well, what did you mean?" she said. "Are you just going to tell me to get lost and expect me to do it?" She sniffed and looked away, leaning against the desk at the end. She was fighting back tears, her emotions roiling. It made him sick to listen to it, angry that she felt that way. He had a tendency to lash out at people when they made him feel bad about himself, guilty for hurting them. He felt a hot surge of that hate now. It showed on his face and she saw it, but didn't know where it came from. She started crying. She thought it really was over.
And it should be, he thought, almost trembling with the effort of suppressing his rage. It should be. Let her run out of here weeping and she'll never come back. She'll be out there, somewhere else, hurting and I won't have to deal with it. She'll get over it (but not really) and move on and it will be a wound in her heart for the rest of her life.
He swallowed and set aside his anger. He stood just as she tightened and straightened, about to leave. She hesitated at his movement. He walked to her, face blank, and put his arms out to her, his face gentle even if he was still seething inside. He was trying to be a good person. He was trying to be kind. He didn't need to hurt people and make things worse.
She stood and he embraced her lightly. She blinked and twisted her hands into his shirt, putting her head down against his chest. He still smelled like an old man. It was fast becoming a scent she associated with comfort. He stroked her back very softly and said, "Tell me the truth: how much of this is a calculated act?"
She stiffened a little against him, then relaxed. "Some. Not all of it. I'm…" so sorry, so alone, so afraid. Don't leave me, don't make me leave, want me, God, please want me. A new set of tears flowed down her face. I just want you to need me so you won't get rid of me.
He put his mouth against the top of her head and hugged her more firmly. Her hair smelled of vanilla and berries - one of those scented hair products, no doubt. Women, he thought. They had too many emotions. He didn't want her and he didn't think that he was, ultimately, what she needed. She didn't need to hurt though. He soothed her. He was calming down, more comfortable in his self-control. He thought about how Matt had projected to him the last time he'd had to deal with a crying woman, and made him back off from his usual angry reaction. He'd taken it to heart and given that moment a lot of thought, both in what it meant about Matt and about himself.
"Put your arms around me," he murmured. She did, sliding her arms under his and sighing against him. The little hitches in her breathing started to even out. He turned his head so his cheek was against her hair and rocked her back and forth a little. She leaned into him, letting him hold her and salve her loneliness, reveling in it.
He brought a hand up to her hair and stroked it, thinking. Christmas was coming up. It stressed a lot of people out. He wondered what she was going to do. He pulled the information out of her. She had no idea what she was going to do - probably spend it much as she had Thanksgiving, unless he had no plans and she could talk him into dinner.
Her family was in Plano, Texas and they disapproved of her, strongly. The last time they'd seen her she'd shown up with her drug-dealing boyfriend Nick in tow. They had not been impressed. She'd left only two days into the five day stay she'd had planned. She'd spent this last Thanksgiving alone in her apartment in Odessa rather than go visit them.
"You need friends," he said.
She surprised him by answering immediately, "So do you."
He stiffened a little and shifted. She started to push away from him and he didn't let her. She gave in to it and stayed where she was. "My friends are none of your concern, Patty."
"Do you even have any?" she said into his shirt.
"That's not the point."
Isn't it? She left it unsaid. He didn't have any. Not really. Not unless you counted Angela and she was pretty distant. It was just a business relationship and they both knew that. He wondered if he should try to make it something more? Everyone else he'd been friends with was dead or gone - mostly the former. His best conversations were with Charles and he'd been dead for years now. He hadn't really thought about it, but his life was more sad and empty than hers. He shook it off. He'd think about it some other time.
She sniffed and pushed away from him firmly. He let her. "I want to be your friend." If you won't let me be your lover.
He smiled and reached up to brush away the tear tracks. After a long pause, he said, "Okay." She looked surprised. She was. He let his hand fall to her shoulder and drift down her arm. He patted her, but avoided her hand when she tried to catch his. To sooth her hurt expression, he asked, "Do you want to spend Christmas with me? I'm going to drop off some candy to our inmates and talk to the guards, just hang around. The holidays get some of the prisoners antsy. I try to stick around in case of problems. You can come with me."
She smiled. "Yes, yes, I'd love that." She leaned forward to kiss him and he turned his face.
"No. Don't kiss me."
She looked puzzled. "Why?"
"Because I don't want you to." He looked grouchy about it.
"Can we do other things?" She smiled coyly and moved a bit closer, touching his hip.
He furrowed his brow at her and started to ask why she was all the time going on about sex, but then he looked at her. She was 24. It had been months. Other than being with him in October, she hadn't been with anyone since Matt in July. It was the longest dry spell she'd had since she was sixteen. From his perspective it was non-stop action - from hers, pining away. He rolled his eyes and smiled. "Yeah, we can do other things. What'd'ya think I'm going to turn you down?" He chuckled. "I thought you just wanted to be friends, though."
She gave him a sour look. "I didn't just want to be friends. You know that." She huffed and put her hand to his crotch, fondling. He shut his eyes and she rubbed him intently, putting her body against his and laying her head on his chest. He brought a hand up and stroked her hair. He had swollen enough that she could feel him filling. He moved over to lean against the counter and she sat down in her chair, rolling it over to him.
He looked at the office chair critically and said, "You can adjust the seat lower. Might help."
She moved it to the lowest setting and opened his pants, pushing them down to his knees. He didn't like how dangerous that would be if he were caught by surprise and pushed them down the rest of the way, stepping out of them. She reached for him and he said, "Wait."
He took a deep breath and looked at the far wall for a moment. She looked up at him and waited. He ran a hand into her hair, unseeing, mussing it thoroughly. He pulled it loose and started again, running his fingers in at her hairline and letting his palm rest on her forehead. He clenched his fingers into her hair. She was concerned, unsure of what he was going to do next. "Shh," he said. "It's okay. I think you'll like this. It just takes me a little while to set it up. It's going to feel… odd for a minute or so. Don't move."
She breathed deeply and looked around, otherwise holding still. Abilities were weird and many of them took concentration. She trusted him, obviously. She felt a prickling in her sex. She shifted slightly, thinking it was just an itch. It changed, but it didn't go away. She felt a flush of heat and she inhaled sharply. She looked up at him, his hand still on her forehead; his fingers still in her hair.
"Yeah," he said distantly. "That's me. Stay calm. Almost done."
Her clitoris throbbed once and his penis twitched as if in response. Her eyes were drawn to it.
"That's all," he said. "I need to keep my hand on you though. Otherwise it will be numb." He gave a slight pressure on her forehead to indicate what he meant.
She nodded, not sure what she was agreeing to, and opened her mouth, moving forward to take him in. A second after touching her lips to him though, she jumped and leaned away, licking her lips. He smiled. She tried again and this time she dropped a hand to her crotch and looked up at him with a perplexed smile. With each touch of her lips on his penis, she felt a warm, wet touch on her clitoris and the sensitive hood of flesh around it.
He continued to smile at her and nudged forward with his hips. She dropped her eyes back to the matter at hand and brought both hands back up. She stroked her fingertips over him, feeling the sensation across herself. She slid her hand around his shaft, feeling a fullness in her vagina. She moved her lips back to his tip and it felt like someone was giving her cunnilingus - just a light touch - but it intensified as she began to suck him and then swirl her tongue around his glans.
She spread her legs and leaned forward into him, making him shift his hand to the side of her forehead, across her temple and above her ear. She breathed harder and laughed. "Wow, that's really strange. It's… it's like I'm… I'm the one who's…" She trailed off, shaking her head.
"Yeah. Certainly motivate you to do a good job, won't it? Not that I have any complaints, mind you."
She exhaled and then twitched as she felt the air blow across him and thus herself. "Wow. Okay then." She grinned and ran her tongue along the side of his shaft, then gathered him into her mouth entirely. She moaned softly and started sucking and working him. He wasn't entirely stiff yet, but he was getting that way. She ran her hands up and down his thighs, then one between his legs. After a moment of insistent exploration, he shifted and widened his stance a little bit. He could see what she intended to do, which made him glad he'd taken the extra time to cover all the bases, so to speak, with the link.
She brought her hand to her mouth and wet her fingers, then thought, Are you okay with this? Some guys aren't…
It's good. He wasn't partial to it, but it wasn't a bad thing. She was doing it for herself anyway. She was getting into it faster than he'd expected. The other two women he'd done this with had been very put off by it at first.
Her hand went back to the cleft of his ass and probed gently. She swallowed and stopped to breathe for a moment, then licked and sucked steadily at the head of his cock while her finger pushed upwards against him. He opened his mouth to say something about her fingernails, then shut it. She felt them as much as he did. It was one of the advantages of this. She moved more carefully, teasing against him and rubbing in little circles while she mouthed his penis.
She moaned into him again and sunk his entire organ into her mouth as she pushed her finger into him. He was fully erect now and she felt it like it was both penetration and clitoral stimulation together. Every touch to the head of his cock translated to her nub. She deep-throated him and hummed, breathing heavily through her nose.
Eventually she backed off and began to deliver long, slow licks all over him. It was an odd pattern, but she liked it, wishing he would take her for real. She thought it as a question to him.
No, he answered.
Her mind grumbled about why not, but she didn't project it clearly so he ignored her. Oral sex was the realm of prostitutes and short-term lovers for Maury. Vaginal sex and kissing were reserved for long term partners. Telepathic gratification didn't really have a category as he could create such an illusion on someone who wasn't a sexual partner just as easily as on someone who was. He didn't have to be emotionally involved or aroused to do it.
She worked a second finger into his ass and scissored them back and forth slowly. He twitched and shifted at the new sensation. She returned to taking his whole length into her mouth, working him up and down, bobbing and sucking and licking. She whined with pleasure, taking him as deep as she could so she could feel it all through her body. He smiled; pleased he didn't need to encourage her to take him all the way. She was happy to do it and it was working on both of them. He held himself off while her arousal built towards a peak. It didn't work well for them to be out of sync while linked.
She sucked him with a singular determination and he felt her orgasm beginning. He let the feeling flow through himself as well. He'd already been close. It moved him and he rocked in her mouth, spurting into the back of her throat. She choked a little, then swallowed him down and let him slip from her mouth as she panted against him, feeling the aftershocks of her climax. She pulled her fingers from him and twitched. He cut the link - a much faster process than establishing it in the first place.
She smiled languidly and leaned back in the chair, stretching. He admired her form for a second, then went to get his pants back on. "That was good," she said. "And weird. Matt… Ah, is it okay for me to talk about Matt and me… to you?"
He shrugged. "I don't care."
She looked at him steadily for a moment. He shrugged and sank down in the other chair. He wasn't really feeling like listening to her at the moment, enjoying the sleepy afterglow of sex. She wanted to talk though, so he left her to decide on her own how motivated she was to yak at him.
Apparently she was motivated, because she said, "Matt said he could feel sex from my side, feel what it was like to have him in me and that was… I guess that was pretty good. He liked it a lot. This was kind of the same thing, sort of. Except it was me feeling what I was doing to you, so that's the reverse, isn't it?"
"Mm." He looked disinterested.
She looked cross. "Are you listening to me at all?"
He focused on her and tried not to look disgruntled. "Of course. I was just thinking about how nice that was - what you did. Thanks."
"Oh." Her temper defused in an instant. She remembered what he'd said to her last time, thanking her for being nice to him. She rolled her seat next to his and put her hand on his, smiling softly.
He sighed and looked at her hand. He turned his over to squeeze hers for a second, then let go and turned it back palm-down on the arm of his chair.
"You want me to find someone else," she said, not as hurt by it now as she had been earlier, when she thought he was rejecting her.
He raised a brow at her. "I think it would help you." And there's a really good chance I won't be around in a few months.
"But…" she stroked the thin skin on the back of his hand and lingered over the callous on his knuckles. "You won't… I don't have to…" She laughed. "This sounded better in my head, you know?"
"Yes, I know. We'll still be friends." He turned his hand and brought hers to his lips, kissing it lightly.