Sex On The Beach


elle_icon.gif trask_icon.gif

Scene Title Sex On The Beach
Synopsis More than just a drink.
Date April 15, 2019

Various places around and inside of NYC

The day started just after dawn with a big breakfast, home made biscuits and gravy. Then it was off to the races. The Bikes were broken out and Trask began trying to teach Elle how to ride. There were a few mishaps, and one or two bruises involved, but Trask was very patient and with her powers nullified Elle couldn't throw as much as a temper tantrum as she might want and just fry the bike. Finally, though, she had gotten the hang of it and is riding free with no one spotting her.

It had taken an hour or two, perhaps. Elle also hadn't been entirely sure how to dress, so she had opted for the casual side of things. A light jacket, jeans, converses. No helmet, even though it's her very first time riding: helmets are for wusses, so there. As her legs test out their newfound balance on the pedals to either side of her, her breathing is still hesitant and tense, mouth partially open in concentration, but for the most part? She's gotten it.

About time, too.

Her dark-blue eyes flick over in Trask's direction, then back forward. There is a slightly ironic, accomplished smile in them. She readjusts her grip on the handlebars into a more relaxed one, letting her now relatively-confident glide speak for her.

Trask actually has a proud look in his eye, like a father would. Then again he recently found he missed a lot of his son's life…all of it really. He nods at Elle, letting her get the hang of it and try out her new found wings as long as she wants.

It's a cleansing feeling, really: the rush of wind in her hair as it whips about her shoulders, an unusually mild, pleased light in her countenance. It's a hard thing to believe that she'd only just become familiar with all of this.

And she might've wanted to keep going, too, secretly holding onto this belated experience as long as possible. But all people get tired, and she, with her sore limbs from all the stumbles and falls (though she'd never admit that she was sore), is receptive to Trask's eventual suggestion that they get a move on. They still do have a long day ahead of them, after all.

A beach

Trask takes her back to Abby's to drop off the bikes and then it's in the car to a nice beach he has picked out. One that doesn't have a lot of trash, or even people on a week day in the spring. It's a pleasant sunny day and he has changed into a swim suit, "Swimming hmmmm? What is your experience so far?"

As Elle opens the passenger door of Trask's car, gingerly stepping out onto the asphalt, a grimace flits onto her face. "Think about that question for a second," she answers, her lowered eyebrows — though that may just be from the glare of sunlight, too— clearly revealing her doubts about this situation. Bike riding is all fine and dandy, but. Well. "I've never been in anything bigger than a bathtub. Water and me… aren't best friends."

Trask says, "Electricity thing?" He asks, "I take it your power short circuits some…is…is it painful?""

Elle's tone turns wry in acknowledgement that something like that, anyway, is indeed the case. "You have no idea."

Trask smiles and puts a hand tenderly on her shoulder, "Well stay close to me, and that won't happen. Besides in your business learning to swim might come in handy some time. Ever get thrown off a bridge by an undead spirit in the body of a serial killer before?"

Though she makes no similar move in kind, Elle seems to accept the touch on her shoulder patiently. But that question only puzzles her, and she flicks a sideways look at him with her brow lowered. "Nn. No. What are you talking about?"

Trask says, "A man named Kazimir Volken and a Psycho named Sylar…." He shakes his head, "But we don't have to worry about the past right now…lets just have fun today ok?""

Kazimir. That name she's familiar with, alright, though Elle hadn't been one of the agents assigned to watch the whole Vanguard fiasco. But though she continues moving at her own comfortable pace, she isn't content to let the second one drop. "You've met Sylar?" she asks with just a touch more sharpness.

Trask says, "Yeah….Kazimir apparently possessed his body, had this crazy plan to kill all evolved by letting some big virus out, me and my friends we had to go out and take him down. He has Sylars body and all his powers…..we….I guess set Sylar free in our act last I saw of him Kazimir was dead and me and Sylar fell off a bridge."

The edge of Elle's cheerfully yellow sundress flutters, and one hand comes up to adjust a strap on her bare shoulder. Luckily she does have a faint idea of what the hell Trask is talking about thanks to her line of work, but that's his only saving grace. She reaches up to musingly trace a fingertip on the surface of his upper arm, though of course, with the absence of any accompanying spark. "I'm gonna insist that you tell me this whole story sometime."

Trask nods, "Apparently he is reformed, he's a police officer now with a wife and kids, and a normal life. Something happened in between that made him turn his back on the dark path. I am not sure why or how." He shakes his head, "I am not sure if I even beleive it." He smiles at her. "it's a long story, that ends with me locked in a underground blood sport cage fighting ring." He chuckles, "come on lets get you out of the dress and get your feet wet."

The phrase 'underground blood sport cage fighting ring' doesn't faze Elle as much as the first thing he had said. In fact, most of the rest doesn't even make it to her ears. She halts, flip-flops resting at the the division where barren ground just begins to slope downwards into ripples of sand. If she had been mystified before… "Sylar is a police officer?" Whoooa whoa wait hold it now back up.

Trask nods, "That's what Abby said. He is apparently an upstanding citzen, pillar of the community. He plays bridge and goes to little league games. I guess it's proof that anyone can change, can be a better person if they want to." He shrugs, "Did you know him?"

…What. If there had been anything in Elle's mouth to physically choke on, like a drink or something, she would've probably self-damaged herself in laughter just then. "God, I have got to get myself out of this future." It's like the horrible dream of some demented little kid. "And, yeah. I guess you could say I… knew him." Not anymore, apparently!

Trask smiles and nods and just shakes his head, he gives her hand a little squeez and pulls her toward the shoreline.

Elle is still so bemused by this bit of info that she can't do anything more than just allow herself to be pulled along, sand sinking pleasantly between the toes of her flip-flops.

After a while, though, this short-lived feeling fades and she takes a few steps out so that Trask's hand drops from her grasp, eyes wide and staring over the blue waves. The old hesitance is back, and it shows.

Trask has his towel and he lays it out in the sand giving her a few moments to take it in, he puts his shoes on the towel, then looks over at her. "Anything you don't want wet you should likely take off….It's a big bad ocean out there…but you don't have to do this alone, I am going to be here for you…and I won't let anything ever happen to you.

Without dropping her gaze, Elle wriggles her feet one by one so that her flip-flops drop into the sand near Trask's towel. "I'm not afraid of drowning or anything silly, you know." Her lip curls, though the expression doesn't quite meet her now-narrowed eyes. "But maybe, just let me stay like this for a while? Just get my toes wet, first?" After that experiment in dabbling on the shore's edge, then we can see.

Trask smiles, "We have all day, we can take as long as you want, dinner reservations aren't till eight. I packed a little picnic lunch it's in the car. Want me to get it?"

Oh, they do have all day. Good. Elle looks over at Trask, giving a slight smile in concession. "Yeah."

Trask heads up to the car and collects the basket he had hidden in the trunk and was saving for a surprise. He leaves her alone on the shore line for a few moments, trusting her…noone watching her, noone keeping her on a leash.

Well, and what's Elle going to do for the whole two minutes that Trask is gone? Run off? Where? Her power is electricity, not magic. As she waits for the cop's return, she lets herself sink down onto the sand after a while, hugging her knees with one gently clasped arm.

Trask says, "I figured something light…some fruit and cheese, there is some sliced sausage too, nothing to heavy for swimming." He smiles and sets it up on the towel, pulling out strawberries and grapes and little blocks of cheese and sausage and crackers. "So what are you thinking? What is on your mind?""

Truthfully, there's a lot of things hovering on the edge of Elle's mind. Many of them have something to do with the happenings of her fellow time travelers. As her gaze falls on the variety of food that Trask is thoughtfully setting out, though, she speaks the one thought that's most immediate. "Why're you being so nice to me?" Though spoken with genuine curiosity, it's a strange question, especially after they've gotten so far into the day. "Do your friends over at Dorchester know you're doing this?"

Trask pauses , "Hell would prolly flip, though I doubt she is completely oblivious, I havn't kept it a secret or advertised it. Liz knows…and Abby does. I am sure Cat has figured it out. Otherwise I don't know." He takes a long deep breath and closes his eyes, "As to why…I don't know…it's something I have been trying to figure out. I like you…and…I think you deserve a little time off…a little fun. And maybe your just playing me….maybe…and if so I will get what I deserve in the end. But I hope not because…" He shrugs, "Because I have lost a lot of friends already and…I don't want to lose any more.

"You're the one who asked me to come here in the first place," Elle points out mildly. Sitting with knees pulled to chest, her half-lidded eyes focused downwards with a childish, longing intensity, it's hard to believe that this is the same electrokinetic - the same person - who had one point had tried to kill several of Trask's peers. She whimsically reaches for Trask's hand across the towel as soon he closes his eyes, shifting her attention up to his face with a new intensity in her own.

But it's not a handhold she wants; rather, if he doesn't pull away, she'll turn it over to trail one fingertip gently along the lines of his palm. Her eyes are soft and bright. "You're not losing anything by doing this, I promise."

Trask doesn't stop her, letting her do what she wants with his hand he looks out into the ocean, "I have two years left of my life. It is one thing when you think you might die any time, it's another when you learn the exact date of your death." he lets out a long sigh, "It puts things in perpective" He turns and looks at her, "I just want to spend my last few days doing something for the world, doing good for people, and not bringing death to everything I touch any more."

Fft. Elle probably has more experience with that last phrase than Trask ever has, or will. So she guesses with a little snort. "Yeah, but you know you're gonna die. I wish I knew what happens to me." In some ways, not knowing is almost worse, though it's true she does have a pretty good guess.

"And you do know that this is just one possible future, right? Just one possible version of things." Let's not forget: this is an age in which, by all appearances, serial killers transform into model police officers. If they went back to their own time, then came back to the future, it might very well be a different one than the one they're in now.

Trask says, "I hope not…." He looks at her, "Because this future…it has everything we were fighting for. People like you and me are accepted, we aren't hated and feared for our abilities. There is no hiding in shadows, no fighting for freedom, no nazi like…." He cuts off what he was about to say, and takes a deep breadth. "I want to think that the people on the other side, people in the company are doing what they are doing because they think it's the right thing to do, because they want to be heroes, and they want to help people, but… to many people are hurt by thier actions. The dream may have been a good one, by the waking up and putting it in motion sucks. You know I have a son here? One I will never meet. He is seven….born six months after I died and he is…incredible. I want a future like this for him…I want to pass it down to my children…I don't want them to live like we do."

Elle withdraws her hand, at all that, and some of the strange light goes out of her eyes. Her lips press together a little, curling. "They have good reason to be afraid of us. Look at what we can do." Well, maybe not Trask specifically, but those like Peter Petrelli. The bomb. Sylar. The overflowingly flowery forest that is Unity National Park is almost an insult.

Are people so quick to forget? Ten years isn't such a long time.

The Company is touchy ground to tread around as far as she's concerned, and the perception that he reveals is somewhat bemusing to her. "Not everyone does things because their goal's to be a hero, Nort." Even she's aware of that. It's a limiting and naive view, at best.

Trask looks at her, "I am sorry…this is supposed to be your day…your fun day, not my cry my eyes out whine about my life day."

And here's yet another reminder why it's so aggravating that Elle can't use her ability at whim, right now. Not while she's around him. "Hey, c'mon." She says this with cheeky reassurance, shifting her legs so they're beside her and reaching for one of the many delicious items of food spread before them. When her hand comes back up again, it has…

"Strawberry?" she offers, holding the little red fruit outwards like she wants to pop it into his mouth for him.

Trask chuckles softly and shakes his head. Then he opens his mouth invitingly. Leaning on his arm he just gives her a good long look over, trying to understand …. anything really.

Isn't life such a mystery sometimes? In one delicate motion, Elle audaciously presses the strawberry between Trask's lips for him, before she swiftly withdraws to pick a cracker and slice of cheese for herself. She beams at him, brightly. "Can't let this food go to waste while you're busy crying, you know." Of course he's not -really- crying. But.

Trask smiles and chews the strawberry, turning to the rest of the spread, he eats in silence for a few minutes. "Elle….I want to thank you for coming out here with me…I …think I needed this. Look I am not going to make you do anything you don't want to….so if you ever decide you want to call this off, let me know…but…I am really enjoying myself in a sick twisted way.

Elle glances over at Trask again in between mouthfuls, swallowing. "We both did, I think. Why would I want to call this off?" she says this casually, stripping apart another little block of cheese with her fingertips to lay the pieces on top of another cracker.

Insert intended electrified flirt here. Insert a sad smiley face, immediately after that. She looks at him, head tilted to one side. "You know, if we ever get back to our own time, we really gotta see about giving that power of yours an off button."

Trask smiles, "Do you miss your powers that much?" He smiles, "I could back off if that would help? I …have always found not having an off button to be my greatest defense…especially against telepaths."

Weeell. The way Elle doesn't respond to this at first, but just keeps looking at him, should provide a decent answer. "No, what I'm aiming at is control," she corrects, scooting herself over so she's a little closer. "I'll bet there's a lot more you can do. Make your range bigger. Let just certain powers in, but keep others out at the same time. Wouldn't that be useful?" She smirks suggestively, slipping a grape into her mouth while keeping her look of contemplation at approximately the same level.

Trask sighs, "It can be a pain in the butt sometimes, Teleportation and and Healing are examples, Last time I got seriously injured they had to bring in some big black man to supress my powers to allow me to be fixed up.

That description rings a loud mental bell: Haitian. "Yeah, I didn't even think of that. What's gonna happen when we try to go back in time? You won't be able to." Elle's eyes are round. This is serious. "There's no big black man to suppress your powers here, Norton."

Trask says, "I don't know…it's being worked on…it may be that I can't go back…it may be that none of us can. I…don't know…" He smiles, "Not exactly the cold eyed terrorist you were expecting huh?"

"Don't be silly, we got here. Now there has to be someone who can send us back." The idea that they might not be able to is a completely unwelcome one to Elle, and one that she almost refuses to think of as being a possibility. Besides, if that's what the problem is, then what better time to have landed in than this one? Granted— 'spacetime manipulation' might not be in the phonebook alongside 'accelerated plant growth', but…

"And hey— quit calling yourself stuff like that, geez. You don't know what I was expecting." Elle squints at Trask, visibly trying to think even as she takes another cracker in hand. This one plain.

And then: "I can try to help you with it," she announces in a matter-of-fact way. "But only if you want me to."

Trask raises an eyebrow, "Help me with it? Help me how?" He looks at her, popping a couple more grapes in his mouth and chewing them slowly.

"Train you. Try to get it so you can mentally control it." Elle's expression is absolutely calm as she looks right back. "It's a part of what I do. Well, used to." That would be as a trainer in the Company of Ebilness and Doom, interrupted, of course, by the only minor inconvenience of being catapulted ten years forward into the future.

See, not everything they do is bad.

Trask smiles, "You would be willing to do that? And what are your friends at the company going to say when they find out who and what I am? I don't think they will take much kinder to me then Hell and company do to you.

"Well, I wouldn't tell them." Elle purses her lips together, a small but expressive motion. Then, because this statement stings too strongly of betrayal for her own personal comfort, she adds with a little too much attempted emphasis, "It's not a huge deal, you know. Not like I'm going to be teaching you how to blow up New York again or something stupid. Just… a little thing."

"Besides, I don't even know if I can help you. I just said I'd try."

Trask nods, "Deal…and speaking of trying to teach you…you ready to go swimming yet?" He smiles and wipes his mouth looking at her with his head cocked a little. "Or at least wading?"

Elle … lets out a breath, resignedly. But she does look at least somewhat less unwilling than she had the first time around. Closing her eyes with a smile that's only slightly sardonic (alright, maybe a little more than slightly), she slips out of the folds of her sundress, letting it drop to the sand to reveal a halter-top bikini beneath.

Thus revealed, she stands with her weight leaning to one side, hands on hips. "If something does happen to me, you're paying for it later."

Trask blinks and takes a moment, "Wow umm..yeah…paying for it, got it, whatever you want." He gets up and offers his hand, "And nothing is going to happen to you….just stay close and trust me…I won't let it.

Hard to know when Elle is being serious with her threats, isn't it? Always best to assume she is. She ignores the offered hand, instead using her feet to place her flip-flops atop her sundress lest it blow away while she's gone, then heading off towards the shore right ahead of Trask. Brows are sardonically lowered, once again. If she hadn't already decided to put some of her misgiving aside in favor of rare forbearance, she'd be looking practically grim right now.


None of what comes next plays out, however, quite as pessimistically as Elle had envisioned. Nothing of the sort. After several minutes of dubiously adjusting to the temperature and feel of the rocking waves (her first time in the ocean!), she finds herself settling into the waters with greater and greater ease. That's all there is to it? Really?

New York Cit-Ay

Of course, Trask doesn't really give her true swimming lessons, being content after a while to just let Elle splash water at him and explore and generally amuse herself without going too deep out. After more time spent on sundry beach tasks like collecting dead jellyfish and combing for shells in the sand, the skyline begins to darken earlier than either had been expecting, and then— almost all too soon— it's back to change into something nicer for dinner and the Broadway show Trask had bought tickets for.

Beach again

And now, after that blur and glow of excitement in the heart of the eternally sleepless city, they had returned here. Or rather, Trask had taken Elle back here. The blonde's mood is much more mellow now, a reflection of her tiredness, but also of contentment. For the outing, she had chosen the classic Little Black Dress look, mirroring Trask's pricey suit. Though they might not have planned it, they do complement each other in both colors and taste, a relief for the first-time daters.

From high above in blackness, moonlight shines overhead onto the now-familiar beach, casting a weirdly cool glow over everything. It's a quite different feel from the bright, sunlit time they had spent there only a few hours before. Elle had let her head come to rest on the taller man's arm some minutes ago, and now just exhales fitfully. It's been a long night.

Trask smiles, "So…" He lets his arm support her tenderly, his gaze soft as he looks over her and then out at the beach and the ocean and the moon. He stops talking just enjoying the moment, not wanting to ruin it with anything he would say.

For her part, Elle doesn't really do much of anything. Not at first. She does smile faintly, childishly, into Trask's shoulder. With subtle impulsiveness, she gently eases his arm down so it fits more snugly about her. "What're you thinking?" she murmurs musingly once she's fallen still again, without looking at him. Her own blue eyes are still staring out over the water.

Trask says, "I…" He smiles softly and leans over to give her a kiss on the top of the head, "That I am happy…really happy. That I am dreaming…and that this..can't last. But I want it to last…I want this moment right now to never end. Is that selfish?""

To Elle, all of this has sort of seemed like one long and hazy dream. Not just today, but everything from the point of time travel on. "Of course that's not selfish." What an idea! Momentarily, she shuts her eyes in reaction to the kiss that's planted on her forehead. Her smile teasingly widens a little. "I mean, you've got me."

Trask says, "So is this what you dreamed of…when you thought of the beach…or swimming…or learning to ride a bike?" He leaves the date part unsaid. His hand tightens a little around her. He listens to the night air, the caw of birds in the distance, and the sound of the waves slowly beating agianst the beach. A little bit of a breeze blows across the sand ruffling her hair and tickling his cheek with it."

But Elle says it for him. "And the date?" A cheeky, muted grin spreads across her face as she flicks her gaze upwards. "No. I didn't dream of anything like it." And this is, in its way, much better. Never mind that without her power, she feels like she has lost some vital element of control— but that's almost forgotten, now. At least in light of the current moment.

She lets one hand come up, stroking fancifully at the fabric of his tie; she just presses her cheek against the man's shirt as she lets herself be cradled. Though she won't tell him so in so many words, it's pretty much the first time anything like this has occurred, for her.

Trask puts his other arm around her and holds her protetively and tenderly, he strokes her hair and listens to her breathing for several heart beats. "So as long as I am in the business of granting wishes, is there anything else you have never had a chance to do…anything else you regret missing out on?" His voice is a whisper he isn't sure if she will answer, or if he needs an answer, he just holds her and listens to the wind.

"A lot of things. You'd never be able to get them all." In a still-comfortable sort of way, Elle has gone kind of breathless. The rise and fall of her chest has visibly slowed. When she next rests her eyes on Trask, they're full of a startling intensity— full of a suppressed something, at any rate. It's almost painful to see. "But there is one thing…"

Trask doesn't have to ask what it is, he somehow knows, he leans down without a word, and his arms tighten around her and he kisses her, hard and deep and passionately. No chaste little friend kiss, and nothing she had to torture out of someone, but a true and honest and hungry kiss.

Elle returns the kiss serenely, wrapping her hands about Trask's shoulder and back to pull him down closer to her; he'll find her no less willing to go through with comes next. This entire night has just been so unprecedented and weird, probably for them both, but -

Sometimes, things just work out that way.

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