Romances of Maury Parkman, Chapter 4: Shared Sweetness
A/N: Some of the first paragraphs would make more sense if you've read Shattered Identity (Favors Unasked For, which was chapter 46) and/or the Bonus Scenes (Maury's Capture, chapter 7). This chapter is set the day after those events, though I don't think you strictly need to have read them to follow the story.
It was the day after Peter had drug Maury to Angela's place with a split lip and a bloody nose. His arm and knee still hurt, despite a handful of painkillers and several ice packs. Maury supposed he should have given up when he realized his powers were nullified instead of trying to fight it out with a man forty years his junior, but he hadn't been thinking straight. He'd felt his son's life flicker and fade into nothingness through the link they shared, the night before. Now Parkman's task was to track down the various agents and employees he'd subverted in an attempt to gain a small measure of revenge against Matt's killer, Gabriel Gray.
Whatever had happened to his son, it wasn't quick. Death usually took less than five minutes and sometimes as little as seconds if the brain was damaged directly. Matt's took over half an hour and his father had been aware of it the whole time, in spikes of emotion and phantoms of pain through the link. Knowing nothing else seemed harder to manage than details, but Matt was too far away for the elder to pick up anything better.
Maury resented Gabriel enormously for how long it had taken - not so much the death itself, as he'd known that was coming for quite a while - but that it wasn't quick or clean. He'd tried to talk to Angela about it. She clearly didn't want to hear it. She'd had to face an unpleasant future many times, standing by silently and letting it unfold at great cost. He also resented Arthur, who'd orchestrated the whole thing. Mrs. Petrelli was more inclined to listen to criticism of her absent husband.
The agents Maury had turned weren't hard to find. Maury knew who he'd been at, so unlike Gabriel, he didn't have to go through everyone to find the right people. Gabriel had had to seek out the people hunting him and been shot for his trouble a few times. Maury found that a little satisfying. Parkman could call people and require they come to him, making it even simpler. He was also doing clean-up, fixing the mistakes Gabe had made as a result of his inexperience with the ability.
They started early. The worst cases for him to fix had been in Philadelphia and New York. Even so, he and Angela were on their way to Baltimore by 10 am. The people from the Washington office would meet them there at 3. They included two Gabriel had missed. Maury had considered leaving them loose to surprise the man later, but it was a poor way to treat the agents, given Gabriel's tendency to overreact. He'd killed one of the people who acted against him and nearly done the same to another. Angela was right - Maury shouldn't make the Company assets part of his feud.
Maury had made reservations for two at an upscale seafood restaurant. They dumped off Michael with the car, leaving him to find his own lunch. They'd call him when they were done. The drive down had been strictly business, with both of them having laptops with roving uplinks. The silence had helped him focus and think about something other than Matt.
He had a second goal, a second revenge, but this time against Arthur. He wanted to threaten Angela - not in any real fashion, not to threaten to harm her - but to threaten Arthur's hold over her, his possession of her, his ownership of her. Arthur Petrelli was territorial and possessive, traits he shared with Maury. His control of his wife had never been perfect and he'd been stung badly by her infidelity. It was a wound that had never healed. Maury intended to poke it until it bled.
The lunch rush was over when they were shown to their table at 12:45. Maury limped along with a cane and insisted Angela let him seat her. He looked a sight, but the waiter was kind enough not to comment, even if he thought it was somewhat humorous for a man of his age to have been in a fist fight. Maury squinted at the menu and frowned, then wiped at his eyes.
"Can you read it?" Angela asked finally.
"Yeah. It's just one thing after another keeps going out on this old meat bag I'm trapped in. I need to visit that faith healer again." Fortunately it wasn't too hard to convince her he was doing God's work. Telepathy had its perks. A long time ago he'd dismissed the possibility of immortality through long-term possession. He wasn't above other means to prolong his life, but that one seemed particularly immoral even to him.
She fell silent and read the menu, setting it aside finally and sitting with her hands folded in her lap. She watched Maury steadily. She wondered about his motives in requiring her to come to lunch with him. She knew about the vengeance, but a small part of her hoped there was something more there. He looked up and set his menu down, smiling genially at her. "What are you getting?"
"A cup of lobster bisque and a half order of the tuna sashimi."
"Mm. That sounds good. I can't decide though. I can't go too far wrong with fish and chips… but on the other hand, they have this linguini alfredo with scallops and stuff. Which do you think I should have?"
She considered it gravely as if this were a weighty decision that warranted a lot of cogitation. She said, "I would think, given your tastes, that the fish and chips would suit you better. It's more pedestrian."
He ignored the insult, if it even was one. Between the two of them, it was more likely to be a simple observation. He made a show of thinking it over in return, then nodded. "I agree. The other might be too heavy - it would make me sleepy later on. I'll follow your advice."
She smiled a little at his mock-seriousness and looked around the restaurant. "It's been years since I was last here. I have no idea what's good these days."
He leaned forward, projecting great interest in her words. "When were you here last?"
She pulled back fractionally. He realized he was coming on too strong. He noticed his napkin, wrapped around his cutlery and leaned back as he unwrapped it. In turn, she leaned forward a bit. It was unconscious body language for her, but calculated on his part. She said, "It must have been twenty years ago. Victoria, Charlotte and I ate here one day for lunch on our way down to DC."
Angela continued looking around. "I suppose they've changed owners. It looks different." She sighed, thinking of the old days.
"What ever happened to Charlotte?"
Her eyes came back to him. His expression looked genuinely curious, but he had a lot of practice wearing the face that evoked the reactions he wanted. "Oh, she moved down to Florida where she lives with her grandchildren, last I heard. Or rather, her grandchildren live with her." She smiled wistfully.
"It's hard to keep a family together in our business. She's lucky."
Angela eyed him. "Yes, she is."
"Too bad about Victoria," he murmured and looked away. Once upon a time, Victoria had been Angela's closest friend. The future, the Company and Adam's solution to all of it had torn a rift between them, but the emotion was still there.
She nodded and started to say something when the waiter came by and took their orders. After he left, Maury said, "Too bad about Adam, too." He watched for her reaction. They'd never spoken of what had happened only a few years before, with the murder of Victoria and Adam's later death at Arthur's hands. Parkman had been a supporter of Monroe's. The Petrellis had not.
"He served his purpose," she said stiffly.
"Which purpose was that?"
"With the Company," she said vaguely.
He decided to push it, asking, "Do you mean reviving Arthur?"
She hesitated. Obviously, that was part of what she meant. She didn't lie to him. "Yes, but what I meant was that he brought us together and set us on the right course, even if he changed his mind later."
"Ah." For the moment, he'd forgotten trying to win her over as old angers stirred in his gut.
She saw him looking sullen, drawing away. It was a very old, very sore point between them, one that had seen more than one founder leave the Company. She couldn't afford to lose Parkman too (and again), especially now. Adam was gone and it didn't matter who had stood where. She leaned forward a little and offered, "Maury, the Company is the right thing to do. Even Adam thought so. We can do so much more together than we can apart."
He looked off to the side, still angry. "Yeah," he said, his tone sarcastic. "Imagine if Arthur were on our side instead of off fucking around by himself, huh?"
She didn't know what had passed between Maury and Arthur just a few years ago when Arthur had killed Adam and recovered from the poison she'd given him. Maury had a lot of reasons to hate her husband. He'd obviously been the man's unwilling thrall, but she was unsure if his obedience to Arthur had ended. So she answered slowly, not sure of what Parkman was really feeling, despite the emotions writ on his face and heavy in his voice. "Yes, that's true. Arthur is not on our side. I did not approve of what he did to Adam. I think it should be clear I would have preferred Arthur did not have that opportunity."
He looked up at her, then at the tablecloth. He rubbed it slowly. "You said you were having dreams that you and he got back together." He didn't like that idea. That was obvious.
She sighed. "They're dreams, Maury, dreams of a happier time. I want a happier time."
"You're lonely," he observed, glancing up long enough to hold her eyes for a second, then away. Patty's observations about himself and his life rang loudly in his mind.
She eyed him silently, wondering what he meant by that. It wasn't said as an invitation or a come-on. He'd stopped trying to hit on her some time back in the conversation. She preferred this Maury, the one who was more honest and open, less manipulative and aggressive, but it was rare she was able to see this side of him. He usually guarded himself too well, provoking people and being flippant.
She thought about his question the previous night asking if she was looking for someone to replace Daniel. That had been a torrid and painfully short affair, cut short by Linderman's death. She hadn't known Maury was aware of it, but given how close he and Daniel were, it wasn't surprising. She'd thought, at the time, that Arthur was dead. She and Linderman had metaphorically danced on his grave, for very different reasons. Now, again, a man wanted her in order to thwart her husband... and yet he seemed to want something more, or was she only seeing what she wanted to see? Finally she admitted, "Yes."
"So am I." He looked around the restaurant at the people there. He didn't look at Angela or imply she was the one he wanted to be with. He hadn't been thinking that before now - he'd never intended to actually get close to her. He'd just wanted to make a scene, make it look like he was after her so he'd have something to throw in Arthur's face the next time he saw him. That was as far as he thought he'd get - he didn't imagine Angela would let him go further despite his powers of persuasion. He thought about Patricia again. Spontaneously, he said into the silence at the table, "You're the closest thing I have to a friend, Angela."
He picked at the tablecloth. "I'd kind of worked things out with Matt. We weren't close, but it was okay. It was working out."
"It's very hard to lose one's family," she said with sympathy.
"Yeah," he kept looking away. He knew he should jump in with something blaming Arthur or drawing her in. He was tired of the game though and said nothing. The waiter brought their meals. They ate in silence. It was empty and stretched between them like they ought to be speaking but weren't. She fiddled with her chopsticks a lot. He fussed with his malt vinegar and lemon wedges. Both tried to look busy with their food.
After she was done and there was no longer a way to maintain the pretense, Angela set her plate aside and said, "Maury, will you be staying with the Company… or will you be leaving? I know… I didn't give you much of a choice last summer. That was unfair."
He looked at her steadily for a while, then took a bite of the fry in his hand. She'd given him more of a choice than Arthur had. At least she'd offered him the escape of death. "What do you mean by that - unfair?"
"I mean I shouldn't have treated you like a common criminal. I should have gone to you. You deserved better than to be hauled in like that." She sounded a little like she was struggling with the admission.
He wondered why she made it at all. He hadn't intimated in the slightest that he was going to leave, though now that he thought about it, twisting their agents and attacking another director was about as 'off the reservation' as one could go. He finished the fry and dipped another in ketchup, thinking that over. There were a lot of things he could do outside of the Company. He had his projects. He glanced up at her. His son was dead. He didn't have any people. He'd tried living without people. It made him crazy and hateful. "I'll stay. What else do I have? Like you said last summer, it's a pretty empty life without it."
She furrowed her brow slightly. "I don't recall saying that."
He chewed on the fry. "No, maybe you didn't and I just thought it." He picked up another fry and waved it a bit. "You bring my life meaning." He didn't sound sarcastic so much as literal. "Well, you and the Company. Gives me something to do. Keeps me out of trouble."
She looked around the fancy restaurant and indicated it. "And what is all this about if not getting yourself into trouble?" She gave him a small, knowing smile.
He smiled back. "That's not what it's about anymore." He put his food down and looked at her face with a scrutiny that made her feel naked. If she hadn't known how to block out his mind she would have thought he was reading her. It looked like he was trying to memorize the contours of her face.
"Maury," she said, hoping to get a more appropriate distance and make him stop looking at her like that. It stirred feelings within herself she hadn't had for some time and although she'd agreed to his condition of this lunch with the intention of enjoying his attention, now that she had it she felt unaccountably shy.
"Angel," he answered simply, still looking at her, smiling like he saw something beautiful and lovely.
"You shouldn't…" she faltered and fussed with her napkin, not sure what she was going to say.
"I'd like to get to know you." He tilted his head. "I'd like you to get to know me. Really."
"That's inappropriate," she said sharply. "It won't work out well. Arthur will make you suffer." She looked back and forth between his eyes, but he was undeterred.
He cocked his head the other direction. "You've seen that?"
She nodded, looking unhappy about what she'd seen. It had been confusing, like most of her dreams about her personal life. There were too many choices she might yet make to change it.
He smiled warmly, relaxing. "You're worth it, Angela." He meant it. Her vision would tend to indicate he'd succeed. He'd be close to Angela and Arthur would be pissed about it. He didn't care what Arthur might do to him. Not anymore. Not after losing my son. Not after having Patty of all people point out to me how nice it is to have someone in your life.
He straightened as the waiter came to take their plates away. She ordered a slice of raspberry cheesecake for dessert. When he showed an interest in the dessert, she pushed the saucer over to him and let him have a bite. He savored it and pushed the rest back to her. She ate half the rest and offered it back to him. He thanked her and took it, wondering if she understood the significance of sharing food with someone who had expressed romantic intentions towards you. She did.