Participants:
| Scene Title | How Many Lives Is This? |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Felix really must be a cat… he shows up on Liz. |
| Date | March 31, 2009 |
Elisabeth's Apartment
Fel….he's used to wearing suits. But today, all he's managed to dig out of his closet is a blue polo, khakis, sneakers. He looks….almost preppy, as he knocks hastily on Liz's door. He's worn and tired looking, but still very much alive.
When the knock happens, Elisabeth takes a few minutes to answer. She figures it's probably Alec — Norton just lets himself in. But when she opens the door dressed in a pair of ratty gray sweatpants and a loose T-shirt, she looks like she's been sucker punched. The wineglass in her hands drops out of suddenly nerveless fingers toward the tile floor and her bare feet. All she can do is stare at him.
The wine glass is neatly caught, as Fel darts forward faster than the eye can easily follow, to catch it. Well, she would want proof that it was him, right? Wordlessly, he offers it back to her, and then flicks what little of it spilled from callused fingertips. "Liz," he says, quietly. "Not gonna ask me in?"
It rattles her, the sound of his voice. And Elisabeth steps back into the apartment almost absently, taking the proffered glass and setting it on the table in the foyer. Her eyes never leave his face, and she closes the apartment door to lean back against it. Her jaw clenches, words bitten back as she looks at him, taking in his expression and his demeanor.
He looks….like himself. There's a few days' growth of stubble on his chin, he looks tired, beaten. But still him, blue eyes, harsh features, and all. "What did you see, Liz?" he persists, softly. "Lee said you saw a body that looked like me."
There's an instinctive shake of her head. "No," she says instantly. "A contact… did. Helped me search the beach for you." And now it hits her. That she's actually talking to him. "Lee… spoke to you? You're goddamn lucky he didn't put you through a wall."
He lifts a hand to his throat. "He almost did. I think….I think the fact that he was very drunk helped," he says, pulling a face. "Weird. I don't know. I've lost the last few days, Liz."
Again her jaw clenches, and she can't stop herself this time. Her hand flashes out to slap him with all the strength in her arm … though she doesn't put her body weight behind it. Liz's expression crumples though she won't let the tears fall. "DAMN you!" She did tell him the LAST time he wound up alive after being dead that she wasn't sure whether to hit him or hug him. Looks like he lost the draw this time.
Anyone else (save Lee, who'd use a closed fist), he'd dodge. Or catch the blow. But this one, Felix takes without flinching. It does hurt, and the scarlet print of her hand is left all over the side of his face. He merely blinks, slowly, and admits with a sigh, "I suppose I deserved that."
"What the fuck went on out there? Because let me tell you something, Felix Ivanov. The person who told me he'd found your body? He fucking well knows what a body looks like, and he's not likely to leave a living one on the goddamn beach all fuckin' fish-nibbled. What happened??" Elisabeth sucks in a breath, her eyes still wet, and says, "And just so you know, I fucking refuse to cry over you being dead ever again!"
"Liz, I don't -know-," Felix insists, earnestly, hands curling into fists. "I went out there after that absurdity in Chinatown to see if I could track anything down on Demsky's daughter Colette. I went to that kids' shelter - the Lighthouse. I don't remember anything after that until I woke up in some ruined motel on Staten."
Elisabeth reaches up with a shaking hand to rub at her head. She nods very very slowly. "Okay… I thought it might have been Abby's case, but… Staten Island — at least this side of it — is a hive." She groans. "Christ, Fel. I filed the report. Luckily you're only missing and presumed dead because I couldn't produce a body, only a confidential informant's word." She shakes her head now, moving to pick up the abandoned wine glass… but she offers him a brief, tight, quick hug first. "I hate you," she mumbles into his shirt.
He smells like…seawater, weirdly enough, not the usual combination of aftershave and soap. But he's warm in her arms, hesitantly wrapping his own around her, and heaving a rather canine sigh. He even dares stroke her hair. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, bending his head to nuzzle into her hair.
She lets herself have one moment for those tears, relief more than anything else, and hugs him very very tightly. And then Elisabeth pulls away from him and says, "I hate you." There's no real heat to it, and she smacks the hell out of his arm. "I could kick your ass, but when Lee's sober he's going to do it for me, so I'm gonna be nice to you after this." She looks at the imprint of her hand on his face with no regret. "You made me cry for you again, you jerk," she says with a sigh. "Now come, sit down. Tell me what you do remember." She retrieves that glass of wine and downs it like she wishes it were something stronger. "Need a drink?"
He puts his hand up to the mark, and grimaces. "Yes,he will. I….Lee took that badly, didn't he?" His tone is wondering,as if it'd literally just occurred to him. Fel is dreading Lee sober, by the sound of it. "I…went to the Lighthouse. And …..then nothing. Until I woke up in the ruins of a motel."
"Badly? Badly doesn't begin to cover it, Felix." She doesn't tell him that Leland came at her and had been going to manhandle her. And she's damn glad the bruise on her cheek from last week's fun at the precinct is down to a greenish-red mark by now… could have come from anywhere. "What motel? Where on Staten? Do you have any memories of seeing anyone at the Lighthouse? Did you actually go there, or were you just on the way?"
"I….don't remember," Felix confesses, unhappily. "I just don't. Near Seaview, the motel, I mean. Discount Inn, I think."
Liz frowns and nods slowly. "All right… we've got someone out there undercover. I'll contact him and have him check it out." Or go herself.
"Thank you," Fel says, with an odd humility.
That draws a soft laugh out of Elisabeth. "For what? Doing my job? Being your friend? Missing you enough when you're dead to cry? — you heard that I won't do that again, right?" She moves over there and ruffles him gently. "C'mon… lemme feed you, cuz I know Lee didn't. You can settle in here for tonight if you want. Spare room's plenty comfy. And tomorrow you can untangle the mess I've made of your life."
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