Participants:
| Scene Title | Just A Little Bit Of Pixie Dust |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, PANIC ATTACK, happy thoughts, DAMMIT. IT's a rough morning. |
| Date | Sep 28, 2009 |
Elisabeth's Apartment, Dorchester Towers
It's early morning, which means that the sun has barely started to peek over the horizon and wonder if it's time to rise yet, much like numerous people who have work today and don't particularly want to go. The scent of sizzling bacon fills the apartment's air, the humming of one Richard Cardinal accompanying it as he moves about in the kitchen preparing breakfast.
"Girl could get spoiled, always waking up to a guy making breakfast," Elisabeth comments from the hall. She's tousled, still warm from the blankets she was hiding beneath. She's wearing her usual sleep attire — tanktop and pajama pants. Her feet are bare, and she's leaning against the wall with one shoulder, one foot atop the other with her arms crossed over her chest while she watches him putter.
"Please, once a month does not equal 'always'," Cardinal observes, slanting a look over with a smile's amused twitch, "Besides, maybe I'm just making this for me and I figured you weren't home."
Elisabeth chuckles quietly. "You're not always here, but it seems like when you are here I wake up to breakfast," she replies. Shoving off the wall, she wanders into the kitchen to check and see if there's coffee. "That's okay. You eat. I'm not hungry anyway." It's been a pretty standard response from her lately. She pulls down a cup to fill with water, and takes a pill bottle from the cabinet over the microwave to pop one into her mouth. "Got anything new?"
Cardinal lets a faint chuckle tumble past his lips, gesturing over to the coffee machine before noting, "You're eating. You don't eat enough lately." The bacon's flipped over, and he mms, "Depends, anyone contact you about the shit this past weekend yet?"
She swallows the pill with water before she replies. "Yeah. I spent most of Sunday morning at the hospital," she admits quietly. "I'm told the pastor is in good enough shape physically. Emotionally, well… " She bites her lip. "Ivanov isn't doing well." Her tone is as neutral as she can possibly make it, because dealing with the realities of seeing the man in that state is too much for her yet. The sheer unadulterated rage is simmering deep beneath the surface, though…. and the tide's coming in. Slowly but inexorably. Elisabeth turns to eye the pan he's fooling with and grimaces. "What the hell is it with you people? I'll eat when I'm damn well hungry," she grouses without any real heat. "What're you making?"
"Bacon and sausage," Cardinal replies without missing a beat, his head shaking slowly from side to side as he rolls over the sausage links, then glances back over his shoulder with a brief grimace, "I'd… suggest Flint, but he hates Ivanov. Maybe Mrs. Hadley could help him…?"
"Flint Deckard has already killed him once. I wouldn't trust the man within 20 yards of him. Mrs. Hadley's a possibility," Elisabeth allows. "I'll … go ask her if she wouldn't mind. I don't …." She trails off and leaves it at that, moving around him to pour coffee. "And I know the birds are sitting on a prisoner."
"That crazy sonuvabitch that was running around in the policeman's uniform…" Cardinal steps away from the stove, leaving breakfast to cook as he reaches over to slide his arms about her from behind, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of her neck, murmuring, "Just tell Hadley it's a favor for me, if she seems unsure."
"Yeah… Cat told me," Elisabeth replies quietly. When his hands slide around her, she doesn't even tense. In fact, she melts back into him as she nods slightly. "I don't think she will, but I'll remember." She smiles faintly. "I ever go to her for help again, extra birth control's the order of the day," she informs him. "Just keep it in the back of your head, willya?" She turns in his arms, then, ignoring the pan on the stove and wraps her arms around him. She doesn't bother with additional words, pushing her weight against him so that he has to back up against the far counter where she can then stand on her toes and kiss him heatedly without being spattered by bacon as it cooks. There's a kind of urgency in the movement that she rarely shows him — her hands are already sliding along his stomach as they bump into the counter.
Cardinal blinks, once, and then exhales a bit of a chuckle to that before she's turning, "Alright, I will…" His eyes widen a bit in surprise as he's pushed back against the counter, exhaling a startled 'mfh' against her lips before his own part to greet her mouth in a warm, eager embrace. His arms wrap more fully about her, pulling her in against him without hesitance.
Acquiescence is good. Eager participation is even better. Elisabeth's hands slide downward, and she seems quite intent on undoing and shoving the front of his pants out of her way. Presuming he doesn't protest, of course, she's likely to have him out of those clothes far faster than usual and with far fewer words than they've had lately.
A husky little chuckle stirs against her lips between kisses, Cardinal's hands raking down her back through the tank top's fabric to seize at the waistband of pajama pants— dragging them downwards, hands sliding over her backside and whatever else she's wearing beneath them. Well, someone's in a mood. Richard isn't complaining one bit.
There's a grin as she allows him to remove those pants, her own hands tangling with his as he shoves at the elastic. She steps back to give him better access and there's an even more wicked twinkle as she then demands, "Don't move." Her tone is husky, and those blue eyes hold amusement and something darker — something she's trying to shove back with these moments. Stepping out of her own pants, she ignores her tanktop in favor of sliding her hands down down down his thighs and taking his pants and anything else in the way with her. And then instead of coming back up…. well, there are any number of fun things to be done when you're on your knees in front of a man who very clearly enjoys your attentions.
Don't move? Cardinal's hands slide back up her back, curling to her shoulders briefly as she heads down… and then a grin curls slowly across his lips, fingers pushing into her hair in a firm tangling. Oh. Don't move. Right. "God, you're a wonderful woman," he murmurs huskily, shifting his feet wider to balance, back against the counter.
To hell with breakfast.
Well, she doesn't know about wonderful…. but talented? Yahsureyoubetcha. There's definitely a good bit of talent displayed there. Elisabeth is especially diligent in the application of her talents, too. Breakfast is assuredly burned to a crisp by the time either of them get around to thinking about it again.
"You burned my pan," Liz laughs at him from the stove as she peers into the baked-on mass of grease and charcoal inside the fryin pan. Good thing it's a cast-iron skillet he was using, cuz at least that accusation is a lie. "Guess we're not eating that for breakfast. Are you still hungry?" Thoroughly tongue in cheek.
"You say that like it's the first pan of yours I've burnt to hell," Cardinal replies with a deep, throaty chuckle, pulling her in against him again to lean in and steal another kiss; rubbing the tip of his nose to hers, he grins, "I was thinking shower, personally, now."
That kiss is far more leisurely than the one that started the demolition of breakfast. "Why?" she asks when he lets her up for a nuzzle. "You think you're dirty now or something?" She runs fingertips across his cheek.
"I'm always dirty," replies Cardinal with a crook'd grin, resting his brow to hers lightly, "Besides, it's a good excuse to have my hands all over you, Harrison…" Shameless, as always, perhaps a bit more than usual. After taking a few lives, he likes to reaffirm his own, although he'd deny that.
There's a roll of blue eyes and she grins cheekily at him. She stands on her toes to brush her cheek along his rougher one, inhaling the scent of him. "Sounds like a lovely morning all the way around," she comments easily. The darkness that was driving her earlier isn't quite gone, but at least it's at bay. She reaches to turn off the stove so it doesn't burn the place down as they play. Slipping her hand into his, Liz draws him with her back down the hall.
…and time passes, as time does between lovers, getting away from them until the sun is well high in the sky.
"So, anyway…" Cardinal's sprawled on the bed, fingers stroking gently through Elisabeth's head resting upon his naked chest as he looks down to her with a fond expression. "…where were we before we got sidetracked, anyway, lover?"
She blows a raspberry and grins. "Erm….. food? And now I actually am hungry. For God's sake, you're insatiable," Elisabeth teases with a grin. She scrambles upward, kisses him lingeringly, and then literally bounces off the bed. Her mood is clearly far far better than it was when she woke, relaxed and content for now. "Lunch! I've got… hell, I don't know. Pancakes! I can throw pancakes together and rescue the pan. Get dressed." She comes back for one more kiss and then heads for the closet!
"I've decided to become a nudist," Cardinal replies flippantly, curling an arm behind his head and closing his eyes, "If I stay a shadow, nobody'll know anyway. Mm. Do we know anyone aside from Wireless that's good with all've that computer shit? I don't need a technopath, I just can barely type on one of those stupid things. I guess Cat could do it…"
"Could do what?" Elisabeth looks curious as she pulls on a thong and a buttons a pair of khaki slacks over top of it. She talks to him through the open closet door, sliding a button-up red blouse off the hangar to bring into the bedroom while she rummages for a bra. Her movements are economical — getting dressed is business, not a striptease at this moment. "What is it that you need the computer thing for? And that reminds me…. I got a package last night that I didn't open. I think it might be HF information. Wanna take a look?" Since she'll share it with him anyway.
"The news crew that was in the helicopter? I took their tapes before I bailed, since I knew the feds would just bury it… I figured they could make some good anti-Humanis propaganda if we release them online, toss them up on foreign servers and shit," Cardinal replies, watching her with an appreciative gaze, then blinking, "A package? Who from?" A push up, and he rolls out of the bed, to his feet and stretching.
Elisabeth slips the bra, though she really doesn't much require it, on and then slides her shirt over top. She doesn't bother with socks or shoes as yet, padding toward the bedroom door with an appreciative look over his muscular, tattooed form. She likes the way he looks, and she pats him on the behind as she passes him. "A contact at Homeland," she tells him quietly, buttoning her blouse on the way toward the kitchen. "You want pancakes or sandwiches, love?
Cardinal's fingers brace to the small of his back, popping a few vertebrae before meanding towards the door—most of his clothes got left in the kitchen and bathroom, after all. "Sandwiches, now, I think I need the protein," he chuckles, "Homeland, or Company?"
"Both," is the prompt reply. While he wanders around gathering his clothes, Elisabeth pulls out rolls and lunch meat, lettuce and tomato — already sliced for sandwiches — and mayo. She's not moving in a hurry, but she's moving efficiently. Given the overtime she put in over the weekend, she's got some time to burn this morning, so she doesn't have to rush or anything. "It's on the front table, if you want to bring it in," she calls while she puts together a couple of sandwiches for him and one for herself. Along with a pickle and some chips. It's a simple meal, but filling enough. The package is pretty darn tightly sealed at all crevices and unmarked except for Elisabeth's last name. It didn't come through the mail.
"Dahl? Denton? Do I have to play twenty questions here…?" As he asks the question dryly, he's hopping around on one foot to get his pants on, out of the kitchen and into the main room to head for the front table. Still shirtless, he returns with the package, setting it down on the counter and reaching over for one of the sandwiches.
Elisabeth sticks her tongue out at him and says, "Dahl. She asked me the other day for some details about the people who held me. They were interested in a guy that apparently Danko shot — the one Azrael inhabited. But I couldn't be much help." Her hands stay busy with the food, putting things away and washing up before she eats or touches the package. "They were hoping I could describe him or describe what happened or whatever."
Cardinal exhales a faint snort of breath, settling in to sit and lifting the sandwich in both hands. "Been wondering what they were up to," he muses, taking a bite then, chewing, swallowing.
There's a glance at him as she pulls out bottles of water and sets one in front of him, keeping the other. "A lot," she comments. "Creating chaos and annoying detective everywhere, mostly. Keeping some things under wraps that I'm gonna blow wide open if someone doesn't give me a good answer soon on why not," she admits as she picks up her sandwich to take a bite. Around it, she tells him, "We have the ID of the Sandman killer and I wanted to put an APB out on her. And they quashed it." She shrugs. "Denton's… working under the radar on HF, too. And I guess Minea is as well. She was pulling in favors to get me this." She rummages for a knife to slit open the package Min left while she talks.
"They quashed an APB out on the Sandman?" Cardinal's brow furrows into lines, "Who is she? Why the fuck would they want to protect her, unless they've already stuffed her in a cell, maybe…"
Shaking her head, Elisabeth replies, "I don't really know. And may never. If they want the case, they can have it." Her tone sounds dismissive of it at this moment — she's not going to fight them, she's just going to either do the job in front of her or not. Their call. She picks up her sandwich to take another bite, chewing on it while she pulls Minea's intel out of the folder. Skimming a couple of pages, she hands them over to Richard as she finishes. The top three pages are Danko, Emile. Military ID, etc. Things we already knew. And the man formerly known only as Butch. And a man named Khalid. It's the fourth page that makes her blanch pure white. Shock dilates her eyes to huge pupils and her hands start to shake visibly.
"Who is she? Maybe I've seen her…" Then the pages are handed over, and Cardinal sets his sandwich to one side, reaching out to take the pages one at a time. Danko, all right, already have his file. Butch. Khalid. Then he looks over, just as she reacts to the fourth. He's up in an instant, moving over beside her, a hand sliding to her shoulder, "Liz…?"
Elisabeth chokes on the bite of sandwich in her mouth, dropping all the papers on the counter and pivoting to the sink to lose the bite into the sink. Though she gags several more times, at least she doesn't lose the bite of lunch. Barely. "It's him," she gasps. "That's him!"
Cardinal's hand drops free as she lunges away to the sink, his expression baffled at first — and then serious, reaching down to grab for the papers and try to find the one she'd been looking at. "Who's— which one's him? That— Douglas guy?"
In all its full glory, Douglas's military ID, full name (which is NOT 'Douglas' anything but something like Hughie Hornpecker or something), his known alias ('Doug'), and as much of a file as Minea Dahl could put together. There are several other people behind Doug, but that one…. that is the one that Elisabeth is staring at like the page itself might bite her. "Th.. th.. they've g-g-got him!" she stutters. It's a defect of speech that she has almost never evidenced in adulthood, something that plagued her very briefly as a small child. Which was actually the reason initially for voice lessons. "C-c-cat and … the others," she gasps out. Ayup. Just when you think all's well. Panic attack in full swing. Elisabeth fumbles not for the pills, which she needs desperately, but for her cell phone to show him the picture Cat sent her yesterday. It's the same man.
Yeah, that's him. That's him. Cardinal recognizes the madman's face on the page, and drops it back down to the table, stepping over and reaching his hand out to close over hers as she fumbles for the pills. "I know," he says quietly, seriously, "I was there, Liz. I saw him." His other hand to her shoulder, "Look at me. Relax, focus… he can't hurt you now, baby…"
Blue eyes lock on his hazel ones and she struggles to breathe without hyperventilating. Elisabeth stops all motion, just staring at him. For the first time in all this, she has a face for the monster, and God help her… he's only as far away as Cat. He was dressed as a COP. He could have walked into the precinct any time. No, no, no, NO, cannot go there. As Liz sucks in breaths, trying to calm the intense panic, she's very still — he's given her a place to focus, but she's not sure she can rein it in. And that's adding to the panic, too, because she can feel her hold on it slipping and what if she hurts him and what if…. a billion of them race through her head.
There's a few long moments of silence that linger between them, Cardinal's eyes locking with hers, tender concern there, fingers sliding over her shoulder and her hand both as he gives her that time to try and bring herself under control. "He can't hurt you," he says slowly, firmly, "We have him, Liz. And he won't get out of this alive. I promise you that."
Though her hands are still shaking, it's not as bad. A faint nod, very faint but present, and Elisabeth relinquishes the bottle in her hand to him, finally able to unclench her fists. "Okay," she says quietly. Her heart's still going a million miles a second, but she's trying to divert it. Good thoughts! Happy thoughts! C'mon, all we need is pixie dust! Or a good anti-anxiety pill. That's the ticket.
"Stay with me here, lover…" The hand lifts from her shoulder, brushing to her cheek reassuringly, and Cardinal leans back after a moment—the bottle set back down, he reaches then for his own phone, "I'll let her know who it is we have. It'll be alright."
"Op-open that, please," she asks him while he's dialing, referring to the bottle. Elisabeth's definitely taking the damn thing. "Oh.. God… " She stares at the papers. At the picture staring up at her from them. There's a sudden rush of tears and she looks away from the papers and from Cardinal, a flush climbing her cheeks. As if its not bad enough that he has to see the nightmares, now he gets to live through the panic attack.
The phone's set to one side, so that he can open the bottle— stopping just as the cap pops off, he reaches over quickly to turn the page over, so she doesn't need to look at it. Then he steps over after her, reaching out a hand to smooth up her back, murmuring, "It's okay… here, I got your pills…"
Elisabeth takes just one and looks up at him, forcing out past gritted teeth, "He… was going to… cut off my foot." Her expression crumples and she's forced to fight the panic once more, struggling to control her breathing again. "If I didn't… hadn't… given the safehouse."
"I know." Cardinal's other arm reaches out to wrap about her, to pull her in against him— but not too hard, or too roughly, letting her pull away if she needs to. A lean in brushes a kiss to her brow, "You did everything you could, Liz…"
Elisabeth doesn't need to. Doesn't want to. In fact, she wraps her arms around him and holds on tighter than might be comfortable. "I hate this," she muffles against his bare chest. "Oh God, I hate this. All it takes is a picture. A word sometimes." She buries her forehead in the curve just beneath his collarbone, breathing deeply. "I think I'm fine. I think it's great. And then I'm a wreck. Fuck." She pauses, struggling with the idea. "We got him. We have him. I don't…. know what to do with that."
Cardinal presses a kiss against the top of her head, his arms wrapping more fully about her in a fierce embrace, rocking lightly on his heels with her against his chest. "Well," he murmurs, "Shooting him until he stops being alive sounds like a good plan to me."
Elisabeth starts to laugh. Finally. Maybe it's a touch hysterical or something, but she's laughing. "Now that he's that close…. it doesn't seem like enough. As fucking stupid as that must sound."
"Well," Cardinal murmurs, only half-teasing, "I could get a potato peeler…"
Elisabeth pulls away to look up, asking only a quarter teasing, "His ax? I might…. like to think about chopping him up with it. But… I don't really have a clue how to use an ax."
Cardinal's lips twitch in a faint, wry curve, "Unfortunately, I think they left it behind in the street. I'm sure I could get you a fireman's axe if I really tried…"
Elisabeth mmms softly. "Not sure I could go through with it," she admits quietly. She finally sucks in the first deep breath she's taken since she saw the picture. "Sorry about that," she tells him. "I didn't know it would …. be that bad."
"It's okay." Cardinal touches her cheek, watching her face carefully, "You all right now? Holding it together? I need to send off that message, still…"
Elisabeth nods to him. "Go," she tells him. "Do what you have to." She leans up to rest her forehead against his jaw, eyes closed as she takes in the scent of him one more time. Then she kisses him softly on the cheek and drops back down onto her flat feet. "Go," she encourages again, with a small smile. "I gotta… take a pill. And go to work. You gonna be here tonight, or got other plans?" she asks.
Cardinal gives his head a slight shake, "I don't know, depends on what happens— there's a lot I've got to do myself, right now. I might be." A step back, hand sliding down from her cheek with a lingering touch, "I'll leave you a message if I won't."
She seems easy enough about the whole matter. "That's fine. I think… if you're not here tonight, I'll call Abby," Liz admits. She's been trying to stay by herself — has managed it a couple of times. But not tonight. She smiles up at him. "Get going, mister. No rest for the wicked. And you are a wicked man," she waggles her brows at him.
At that, Cardinal smirks. "If you hadn't worn me out, I'd prove it again…" More gentle, "Just be careful today, alright?"
"I will," Elisabeth assures him softly. "Now go on… make your call. Tell them…. they can have copies of everything, but keep these ones for yourself," she tells him quietly. She refuses to touch the papers again. She can't. Not right now. Instead, she takes the pill with the last of her water.
Instead, Cardinal gathers the papers up into a pile; his phone snapped open, he taps in a text, murmuring, "I'll let you know if I hear anything, too."