"What a piece of work is a man,
How noble in reason
How infinite in faculties, in form and moving
How express and admirable
In action how like an angel
In apprehension how like a god!
The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals
And yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust?
Man delights not me—nor woman neither
Though by your smiling you seem to say so."
-Hamlet, Act II Scene II
A-A-A
A-A-A
There is a blood-curdling scream that comes from the Training Room.
The small red light on Mohinder's desk beeps the rapid alarm. At once he drops the pen he's been writing with and grabs the taser. He tears out of his office and runs down the corridor towards the source of the problem. Sure enough, it's a three-way brawl: Eden, Doyle, and Knox are all at each other's throat. Specifically, Eden is trying to get Knox to strangle Doyle, while Doyle wants Eden to smash her brains out with a chunk of concrete.
"Lights," Mohinder says.
Spotlights flood the training room, temporarily disarming the inmates. They have to throw their arms over their eyes to protect themselves.
This gives the doctor a moment of opportunity. Mohinder aims the taser at Doyle, who lets out a gurgling cry upon touching the searing shock of pain. He then whirls on Knox and with one swift kick of his foot, nearly cracks the base of Knox's skull. The ex-convict slumps to the floor in a tangled heap of arms and legs. Mohinder stares at the two unconscious bodies on the ground and shakes his head in disgust.
Cretins, he thinks to himself. They never think these things through.
What a pity, especially after their recent drilling sessions. He almost had them sufficiently developed into suitable working recruits. He hooks the taser onto his belt and watches Eden rise to her feet.
Eden's face is nearly white with fear as she hurls herself against him. "Oh god!" she gasps, fingers curling in tightly to his lab coat. "Dr. Suresh, thank goodness you arrived just in time."
"Indeed," he replies curtly, placing a hand on the small of her back. "It looks like you weren't ready to handle them after all."
Eden looks up at him and he is amazed at the fragile beauty of her pale face. Her eyes are brimming with tears. "Please, doctor…I beg of you…no more fighting. I can't handle it any longer," Eden chocks out.
She watches him brush a lock of dark hair off her face and tuck it behind her ear in a suave gesture. It frightens her how much power he welds over them. Dr. Suresh is one of the few people who can resist her words…even without the Haitian nearby. While fear and doubt can paralyze even the strongest of men, Mohinder Suresh is immune to such petty emotions.
She finds herself looking into glistening eyes of onyx beauty; dark, sensual, and dangerous. His eyes are windows to an unknown realm of suspense and mystery. No matter how many times Eden looks into his eyes, she can never comprehend the vast amount of control he welds over people like her.
"I must admit, I was a bit disappointed in your performance," he chides her.
Eden bites her lip and lets the defense trail off. She averts her eyes downward, ashamed of herself for not living up to his standards. "I practiced so hard these past weeks…I, I promise I'll do better next time."
Warm fingers grip her chin tightly and Eden shudders inside.
"My mistake. I forced too much upon you," the doctor answers. She can't tell if he's berating himself or insulting her capabilities. But then he gives a small sigh and nods. "I'll give you another chance at the end of the month. But I expect to see progress. Otherwise you'll be replaced."
She swallows the lump in her throat and nods her head. "I understand."
He places both hands on her shoulders in a firm grip which forces her to look him in the eye.
"There there, Eden," he assures her soothingly. "You know I'd never do anything to hurt you."
It's a lie and Eden knows it. He's hurt her before in ways that she wants to forget. The painful pinpricks on her arms and back are proof of the infliction he's put her through for disobedience. Sleepless nights drowned in pills and injections have been Eden's greatest nightmares. And at the end of every terrible dream is that doctor...always waiting, always calculating her like one of his equations.
When his lips touch hers Eden knows better than to resist. She goes limp as his hand presses into the small of her back. It's just a natural order of the flesh, something to keep her in balance and check. So Eden obeys like a steadfast puppet on strings and lets his hand wander elsewhere.
It's only when she feels a jolt of tension does Eden recoil in alarm. "No!" she protests in a shriek. Eden pushes herself out of his embrace.
The doctor's hand whips out and strikes her across the face.
WHACK!
The cracking blow echoes inside the room. Eden feels the bruise already swelling beneath the skin.
"Who are you to refuse me?" Mohinder asks her in a cool monotone voice. "Who are you to refuse anything I offer you?"
Mohinder strides past her and walks out of the Training Room, slamming the door behind him.
It is only when Eden has been returned to her cell does she finally let down her guard. She throws herself onto the bed and seizes the dingy gray sheets between her fingers, sobbing to her heart's content.
A-A-A
The Training Room may have been a disappointment but the Interrogation Room proves to be more successful for Dr. Suresh's liking.
Mohinder turns on the video camera that sits on his desk. He goes into the room where a man sits strapped to a chair in the center of the tiled floor. His hands are bound behind him with cable wire. His feet dangle helplessly on the ground.
Click clack click clack.
The sound is efficient as a clock ticking but it's just the soft tapping of Mohinder's leather shoes on tiles. He leans against the wall with hands pressed behind his back.
"You've got an unusual background, Mr. Linderman. And that's quite a compliment coming from someone who's had years of experience in the field," says Mohinder.
The man, naked and bruised, lifts up his weary face. His white hair is matted with grime and blood stains his swollen lips. "And you, Dr. Suresh are wasting your time," Linderman snarls. His voice creaks with pain.
"I doubt it. Your accelerated success in business and science has proven the superiority of chosen people with abilities. Isn't that what you praised for years alongside Nathan Petrelli's election campaign? Isn't that the better road as opposed to choosing a life of meaning or happiness?"
Linderman wheezes out a gasping cough before speaking again. "Most men choose a life of purpose or happiness. But you've chosen neither."
"It seems that we have a disagreement," Mohinder counters him. "My plans for the future are an ideal fusion combination of joy and value. Essentially, this could be God's hidden plan to man's purpose in life."
Mohinder rocks back and forth on his heels. "Come come, Linderman. We are men of intellect. Tell me if you still believe in a Supreme Being. Or are you really a heretic at heart? I suppose any man would doubt God's existence if he'd been pushed past the extreme. For centuries mankind has serached for the answer to the eternal question of why bad things happen to good people."
Linderman leans forward with furious eyes. "If there is a God, He did not intend for this to be so."
"You should have thought about that many years ago."
"I wasn't planning on annihilation!" Linderman shouts. He strains in the chair but the cables bind him tightly. "A few of the lesser ones, yes, I could see purpose in removing a handful of inferior people. But even you've taken things to the far extreme, Suresh. Without guidance or experience, you'll destroy this world and everything it along with yourself."
Undaunted, Mohinder glances down at his nails for inspection. "And what will you have me do? Dissolve this entire Company? Undo everything I've done the name of my father?"
"You don't fool me. None of this was done for Chandra. He'd be rolling over in his grave if he knew how his son was mucking things up: slaughtering people right and left, kidnapping and exploiting for your own interest," Linderman growls. "But if you'd just listen to me for a moment-"
"Ah, there's the rub," Mohinder cuts him short. "You're trying to play me for a fool and get yourself an 'out of jail' card. I should have known better."
"I'm trying to help you!" Linderman barks.
Mohinder snaps his fingers for attention. The door swings open and a woman walks in. Long legs in leather boots stride across the floor with the precision of a soldier. The v-neck of her black dress plunges downward while silver earrings wink in the light. Despite the alluring attire, there is something cruel and taunting about the wide sensual mouth and piercing eyes.
She settles one hand on her waist and looks at Mohinder. "Yeah?"
"I see we're not going to get anywhere with Linderman. I have decided to turn the matter over to your hands, Jessica." He points to a tiny video camera lodged into one corner of the room.
"Just enjoy yourself. There's 6 hours of film time on this," the doctor replies. He touches her on the shoulder before exiting the room.
"Oh I will," Jessica smirks. She glances back at Linderman like a cat eyeing a tiny mouse. Jessica seizes a whip that hangs from the wall and cracks it in the air. It sounds like thunder crackling down from the sky, the wrath of hell waiting to strike.
"God in heaven," Linderman murmurs.
"Who needs God when you've got me?" Jessica grins. She towards Linderman while brandishing her whip.
A-A-A
Mohinder's next stop is the Observation Lab. It's very close to the Interrogation Room so he turns on the radio to drown out the piercing cries of Linderman. For a moment he almost recoils in retribution but quickly squelches the thought. Nikki's lengthy report filled him in on the risk Linderman had posed to her domestic life while Jessica lavished details about the businessman's true intentions. The Company couldn't risk jeopardizing its future on one man's fanatic ideals about salvation and redemption.
Such a threat had to be disarmed, Mohinder had said at the time. He's not a man to go back on his word.
The radio has tuned into the classical hour. It's "Belle Notre" from the New York Symphony Opera-one of his favorite pieces. The violins and cellos soothe Mohinder's nerves.
"I don't know how you can listen to that stuff," drawls Gabriel Gray from inside the lab. He's bent over a microscope with headphones shoved into his ears. Mohinder can hear the blaring beat of rap even through the tiny speakers.
"And I don't know how you can tolerate pop music. It's enough to give any man a migraine," Mohinder retorts. The two young men exchange a brief laugh while Gabriel pulls out the headphones. He gets up and shakes Mohinder's hand.
"You've got to see what I'm working on here." Gabriel motions to his corner of the lab, "It's the anatomy of trochlear nerve. This one's from a 42 year old man we studied last week."
Mohinder bends over the microscope for a closer look. "The one with excess cartilage production?" he asks with keen interest.
"Yes, that's the one who could bend his body at will. I've put in the autopsy already and after separating different segments of the brain, the results have been successful."
"Fascinating," Mohinder says. He rubs his hands together in excitement. "You've managed to isolate these cells so quickly. It's a breakthrough in modern science." He looks up at Gabriel and gives the young man a friendly slap on the back. "I don't know how we'd manage without you, Gabriel."
"Neither do I," Gabriel nods to his best friend. He looks back on the last two years of his life with a sense of destiny and relief.
A-A-A
"Time is the school in which we learn, time is the fire in which we burn."
-Delmore Schwartz
Two years ago:
When Mohinder found Gabriel Gray he was trapped in a humdrum weary routine. He repaired watches in his father's modest shop in Brooklyn and was doing little else with himself.
"Look at you," Mohinder chastised the watchmaker. "Your life is a helpless blur of ticket stubs and mediocraty. You're living like Clark Kent, Mr. Gray. And it's time you learned to be more like Superman."
Gabriel snorted. "All my life my mother's been constantly nagging at me to become something better. Why should you be any different?"
Mohinder drew up a chair and stared directly into Gabriel's face. "Because you are special. You just need to find your own niche."
Gabriel eyed him cautiously. "How am I special? I just repair watches."
"A much underestimated talent, Gabriel." The urgency of Mohinder's voice was beginning to interest Gabriel. He could feel the attention of this newcomer feeding into his soul and gradually bringing him to life.
"The complications within a tiny mechanism such as a watch are fascinating but pale in comparison to the mechanisms of the human body. Haven't you wondered what secrets lay beneath our very skins? It would be a pity to let such a brilliant mind of intellect as yours go to waste, Mr. Gray."
Mohinder mused aloud as he rubbed his chin in thought. "Yes, yes, I must teach you everything I know. A man so precise and efficient in his labors is surely destined for greater things."
He spoke with such animation that Gabriel was swiftly drawn into the doctor's plan. "Are you saying that you can help me find my destiny?"
"I'm certain I can, Mr. Gray. If only you'll permit me that opportunity."
Gabriel folded his arms on the repair table and looked Mohinder squarely into the eye. "Okay, I'm game. But what's in it for you?"
Mohinder's eyes flashed keenly and a broad smile spread over his face.
"I want you to work with me."
It was Mohinder who awakened Gabriel's hunger and Mohinder who kept that hunger almost within reach of satiation-but never fully satisfied. If Gabriel would get everything he wanted then he might turn away and succumb to the darkness, the cruel instincts that can drive a man into oblivion. He'd spiral downward instead of making uphill progress.
Mohinder knew that. He took extra precautions to keep Gabriel on as his right hand man and reward him lavishly for his accomplishments. Gabriel wouldn't even think twice about betraying Mohinder. He'd sooner put a bullet into his own head than try to remove his best friend from the picture.
Mohinder was the spiritual compass that pointed Gabriel in the right direction.
A-A-A
That was 2 years ago. Now the dorky watchmaker had become more than a man.
He has become a successful man.
Together with Dr. Suresh, Gabriel Gray has brought the so-called "Company" to its knees and conquered it with an iron grip. Even people who were unaware of the supernatural abilities of fellow human beings would feel the wrath of the doctor if they dared to get in his way. Executions were carried out swiftly and efficiently. Gabriel Gray oversaw all the autopsies and most of the medical work in Primatech. He had already been gifted with "intuitive aptitude" and a natural knack for knowing how things worked but under Mohinder's supervision, Gabriel was now on par with the best brain surgeons in the country.
Intelligence and resources also brought a new blessing: appeal. He had forsaken the bumbling watchmaker's lifestyle and now wore designer clothes and the most expensive spectacles that Dr. Suresh could acquire. Women who would never have given a second thought to talking to Gabriel Gray were now barely able to resist the tall dark-haired man in the laboratory.
A-A-A
As Gabriel cleans up what's left of the brain material on his tray, a scream fills the air. The doctor comes out of a room humming "Belle Notre" on key.
"What is it?" he asks Mohinder.
"Jessica is working on Linderman, that's all. Though I haven't decided what we should do with him and it's beginning to concern me." He stops humming long enough to press a hand to his mouth in deep thought.
Gabriel notices the doctor is concerned about their options. He dislikes seeing his friend in even a minor state of agitation. So he selflessly offers his assistance.
"What choices do we have?"
"Jessica wanted him dead but Nikki resurfaced long enough to request prison for life. I suggested just enough physical pain to render him unconscious and then tossing him out onto the street. It would be a bit of poetic irony to know the former billionaire would now be on food stamps for the rest of his life. Although there is option number three…though we'd have to get Micah Sander's permission."
"Nikki's kid? What can he do?"
"Synthesize arrest warrants on all the police computers across the country. Linderman would be arrested in under ten minutes." Mohinder folds his arms across his chest in approval and waits for Gabriel's feedback.
"I don't think prison is a sufficient punishment," Gabriel answers slowly. "After all, Linderman used Nikki Sanders and some of our other best people for his personal gain. That's a terrible crime."
There is a thundering crack followed by howling cries from Linderman. Mohinder reaches for the radio and cranks up the volume.
"Ah, sweet revenge and turnabout is fair play," Gabriel nods.
"Of course," the doctor nods. He glances at Gabriel and his expression changes. "Do you think you could do something with what's left of Linderman if we don't have him executed?"
A playful grin tugs at Gabriel's lips. "Either way, I can't wait to start picking on his brain." He's thrilled at the chance to dissect a new power. The doctor is always careful to select only the very best people for Gabriel's experiments. "Besides, whatever I don't use can be helped on the garden begonias."
"Very funny." Mohinder presses a button to tune into the room.
He hears wheezing in the background followed by Jessica's voice. "Yeah?"
"Mangle him if you want but leave his head alone."
"You're not gonna let him live, are you?" Jessica snarls.
The feeble voice of Linderman comes out. "Please…I beg of you…no more pain…"
"Gabriel is going to finish him off. You just have fun and leave his head intact."
A-A-A
Jessica emerges from the Interrogation Chamber an hour later. She tosses a bloody towel aside.
"Had fun, did we?" Gabriel inquires.
"Perfect." She plunges her hands into a sink of lukewarm water, turning it pink as she washes off the blood. "Go on ahead."
Gabriel adjusts his spectacles and walks into the room. Linderman's pulse is gone but true to her word, Jessica has resisted decapitation his head. Ah well, sooner or later Linderman would meet a tragic fate. It's all in day's work at Primatech. Gabriel slides on a rubber glove and using his sharp instruments, removes the head from the neck and places it onto an examination tray. It's a moment of delicate precision but he welcomes the challenge ahead.
Once at his desk, Gabriel gets to work. He begins to extract the outer layer of skin and work on the gray matter bellow. He's got the tissue isolated and is about to examine a slide under his microscope when a pair of cupped hands cover his eyes.
"Guess who," a light female voice teases. Gabriel pulls the hands away and spins around on his seat. The girl with sunlight hair smiles at him and pecks Gabriel on the cheek.
"Did you miss me, handsome?"
"More than even," Gabriel smiles. He grabs Elle by the hand and pulls her into his lap.
Elle whisks off his glasses and laid them on the table. "Mmmm, I missed you honey," she coos as she winds her arms around his neck. Elle starts kissing Gabriel but breaks it off after two seconds.
"Wait'll you see what I bought," she grins. Elle reaches into her shopping bag and pulls out a silky one-piece night dress. Gabriel runs his fingers through the pinkish material and tried to imagine it on Elle. Already he can feel the tightened strain in his pants. He wraps his arms around her and forces her up against the wall before pressing his mouth to hers. She tastes wonderfully of strawberries and champagne. Elle doesn't resist. If anything, she tilts her head back in a gesture of surrender to allow Gabriel to explore.
He gets up from his chair and starts pushing them against the wall when his phone rings.
Gabriel pushes Elle off with a rasping growl of irritation and grabs the phone.
"Hello?" he grumbles in response. Gabriel doesn't disobey Mohinder's orders but he's not in the mood to be bothered right now. He's hungry for Elle and that goddamn rose slip dress.
"Hello Gabriel. Put this on speaker phone. I want to speak to Ms. Bishop."
With a groan of restraint, Gabriel sets the phone down and pushes a button. Mohinder's voice blares over the intercom. "Elle, how was your mission to Scotland?"
"Lovely." She sits on the desk and crosses one long leg over the other, revealing the attractiveness of a short tartan skirt.
"I got the file on our newest prodigy." She flips open a green folder and begins to read aloud. "Michael McCreedy, age 18. Born and raised in Glasgow. Devoted Catholic and choir member. Tenor, I think."
"What's his genetic marker?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary. Only he can grow four-inch razors from his fingertips and severe a person's arteries. He has problems retracting them and is afraid he'll become a wanted criminal."
"Poor Michael," he says. "Tsk tsk, sounds like another teenager terrified of his own body."
"Yup, that's him," Elle announces. She hops off the desk and saunters over to the coffee maker.
"He's a sweet little boy, Mohinder. You should've seen those big blue eyes of his when I found out he caused four accidental deaths. I asked McCreedy a few questions and he started crying like a baby. The kid said his powers are some form of temptation and he'll be damned for eternity."
Elle throws four lumps of sugar into her coffee cup and stirs it with a spoon.
"Well well….we must call McCreedy back and tell him we're the angels he's looking for." Mohinder's voice turns up with approval. "Gabriel, do we have another facility room available?"
"Sure. Now that Linderman's gone I think we can fix it up," Gabriel responds.
"Excellent. I want it cleaned out and filled with adolescent pleasures: stereo, plasma TV, electric guitar, CDs, and DVDs. Anything that would put Michael McCreedy at ease."
Elle pours a generous splash of cream into the coffee and watches the black bubbly substance lighten into an appealing rich brown liquid. She brings it to her lips and sips the creamy beverage. "You want to make him feel at home?"
"Why not? With an ability like that on our side I'd say we've got another mercenary ready for hire."
"I'll get on it in ten minutes," Gabriel promises him. He looks up at Elle who is sipping her coffee and eyeing him in a very cute and puppy-like manner. "Uh, on second thought make that half an hour."
"I'll give you until tomorrow. I'm on the next flight to Washington D.C.," Mohinder informs them. "While I'm gone, you're in charge Gabriel. Over and out."
The speaker phone crackles and clicks to signify Mohinder's departure.
"You heard him," Elle smirks. "He said you're in charge. So what are you going to do?"
"What are we going to do?" Gabriel asks. Elle twirls a lock of hair around her finger and bats long dark eyelashes at him. Then she grabs the dress and gestures for Gabriel to follow her into the back room.
He complies.
A-A-A
The Oval Office is a place of absolute solemn respect and dignity. Nathan knows that countless men before him have stood in that place and made decisions that altered the course of history. He should be delighted to walk in the shoes of those people but today he feels only regret and frustration.
From the moment that private jet appears on the landing strip and Dr. Suresh descends from the plane's metal steps, Nathan knows this means trouble. Mohinder never comes to him personally unless it meant a discussion of the most secretive matter.
There are the usual nuances, the damn security and checkpoints they have to go through until they are alone. But at least this was called in at the last minute so there's no flashing bulbs or annoying reporters to get in Nathan's way. He accepts Mohinder with a brief handshake and together they walk into the White House.
Mohinder refuses coffee, soda, and even a traditional cup of tea. He stares out of the window and admires the sparkling green lawns that grace the President's home. Behind him, Nathan sits in his leather-bound chair and waits for the bomb to drop.
"What is it that you want now, Suresh?"
The doctor wants to let the question hang in the air but he's pressed for time. So he makes his demands clear.
"Surgeon General."
"Impossible," says Nathan. "I can't push for nomination and don't forget the majority of the Senate must confirm-"
"You're stalling," Mohinder cuts him short.
"It's not that easy, doctor. It's one thing to want the rank and another thing to go forward in approval."
"You wouldn't say that if you knew what could happen to the Public Health Service. What about the welfare of this country? Don't they deserve to know more before another killer virus threatens to cripple America's population?"
A hot flush creeps up Nathan's neck and causes him to rise to his feet. "For god's sake, Suresh! You could've stopped that virus before it infected half a million people!" he explodes.
"Could I?"
"500,000 families nearly petrified to death because their loved ones were quarantined in hospitals," Nathan vents on. "And you had the gall to wait eight weeks before revealing an antidote to the public."
Mohinder gives a shrug of the shoulders. "Power of publicity, Nathan."
"You bastard."
"So says the man who doesn't take my cautions seriously."
Mohinder places his palms upon the president's desk and looks him squarely in the eye.
"Now let me tell you what is going to happen. I will go public in my campaign to become surgeon general at the end of the month. If you attempt to resist my plans, the press will hurl a bloodbath of 'prejudice judgment' in your direction. They'll rant and rave how illustrious Nathan Petrelli of a blue-blooded family doesn't think a former taxi driver has the sufficient intelligence or right to hold any respectable position in the government."
He stands up straight. "You don't want to look like a narrow-minded fool, do you Nathan?"
Nathan is caught in the dilemma. Mohinder has deliberately placed him between a rock and a hard place, forcing Nathan to accept his limits. "Damn you, Suresh," he curses between his teeth.
"No, damn yourself. Nathan. The entire country watched your scandal with Nikki Sanders unfold on television. Disgrace doesn't befit a Petrelli at all. Don't make that same mistake twice."
The leather chair swivels to and fro like the pendulum of doom. If only Peter were alive…sweet sensible foolish but ever-so-faithful Peter. Nathan should have had more belief in his younger brother. But he always underestimated Peter and never realized how many lives his little brother had impacted until the day he died. A monument in upstate New York is a shallow acknowledgement in comparison to how much Nathan missed having his sibling around.
Nathan picks up a baseball that sits upon his desk and squeezes it gently to relieve stress. "If Peter Petrelli were here he'd get your head on straight," Nathan mutters.
"Your brother is dead." With that cruel comment, Mohinder flicks a speck of invisible dust off the sleeve of his jacket. "No thanks to you."
One last nail drives into the coffin. Nathan's hand grips the baseball harder until his knuckles grow white and his fist begins to shake with silent rage. All the while, Mohinder looks at him with an ever-so-patient face of serenity. It's so damn peaceful that it's driving Nathan mad with rage. He should call in security and have Mohinder thrown out of here by the scruff of his neck….
But no, that would never do. He needs Mohinder. They all do. Only Mohinder has the answers they need.
Nathan's responsibility is to mortgage his soul while his body goes on camera to be smiled and praised. As long as everyone believes in the President, Mohinder can go on doing as he pleases and Nathan can stay secure in his position as the most powerful man in the country. At least he's the 'most powerful' according to some people. Nathan knows better than to resist Dr. Suresh and his demands.
Reluctantly, he releases his grip on the baseball and sets it back into its crystal case on the desk. With a creaking jaw he asks Mohinder:
"Anything else?"
"Yes. Linderman is dead. I want all of his property and bank investments liquidated. The total monetary sum will be wired into my private account at Primatech."
The president looks like he's about to break down at last but Mohinder's lips pull back revealing a handsome smile of pearly white teeth, a smile that could match Nathan's charisma and charm.
"With no living relatives, it would only be suitable for Linderman to donate his estate to, shall we say….more worthy causes."
"Worthy causes, my foot," Nathan mutters under his breath.
"I'm sorry, Mr. President. Did you say something?"
"Yes I did! You've got the country fooled Suresh but you don't fool me. You don't know what it's like for us with these abilities, all these secrets and lies! You have no idea how we-"
"You're right," he counters Nathan with a harsh whirl of the head. "I don't know how you feel about it, how you manage to live from day to day with such a burden. I don't have the curse—or blessing-to contain such a power within me.
"But do you know what, Nathan? I don't need to. Because I have this." The doctor taps his temple with his index finger.
"My mind is too precious for you to lose. If the country found out I was assassinated or killed in a freak accident then the citizens would be thrown into a state of panic. They'd turn to you for answers. But you don't have them, Nathan. I do. Your strength comes from me."
Nathan slumps back in his chair, a conquered man at last. Mohinder watches his shoulders sag slightly as he exhales. A lesser human being would pour out a drink but Nathan's too rattled to even think about alcohol right now.
"I'll have my accountants bring up the Linderman estate next week," he responds feebly.
"Tomorrow," Mohinder corrects him.
"All right, tomorrow," Nathan rubs his brow wearily in defeat. "And I will inform the Senate that I've nominated you for the position at my next public speech."
"Excellent. I see we finally understand each other."
A-A-A
The sunlight is warm and soothing on Elle's face. She snuggles up against Gabriel's body, savoring the heat of his skin. She runs her fingers through his dark hair and takes in the tall trim figure that lingers beside her. They've just had a most fantastic night together and now Elle's slip dress has been discarded at the foot of the bed. The sheets lay in a tangled mess around them.
She lunges for him again and thrusts her arms around his waist. Gabriel is caught off guard by the seemingly harmless gesture of a hug. But a crackling sound causes Gabriel to arch his back sharply. Elle just sits back on the bed and giggles. Her fingertips crackle with electric blue energy.
Gabriel grabs her by the wrists and pushes her back into the pillows. He pretends to look mad at her. "You're trying to give me another erection or something?"
"Or something," she says. She rolls over and purrs happily as he begins to massage her back with the palm of his hand.
The wonderful interlude is cut short by the phone ringing. "Not again," Elle moans as she presses a pillow her head. "Tell your boss to shut it".
"No can do, princess." Gabriel hits the speaker phone button.
"I want the new report on my desk at noon," comes the doctor's sharp orders.
"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" Gabriel implores. He knows he's pushing to Mohinder's limits but it's one of the few rare occasions when he can.
"Fine. 7 AM sharp tomorrow morning," the doctor relents. "And Elle?"
She rolls over on one side and looks at the phone with disdain. "Yeah?"
"Try not to set the bedroom on fire this time."
A-A-A
The next day Gabriel is feed, showered, and dressed for attention. He's still waiting for Elle who's taking her cracks at Eden in the Training Room. Gabriel and Mohinder have already placed bets on who's going to win. Gabriel has stacked all his force behind Elle but Mohinder suspects Eden will succeed in the long run.
Either way, someone is going to lose $50,000 by that afternoon.
"Clairvoyance," Gabriel reads off the computer. "The ability to discern people who are not in the observer's presence."
"My father had a file about a woman who possessed this ability but she died nine years ago," Mohinder says. He is preoccupied with filling a beaker with a glossy red liquid while they talk.
"Often it is misinterpreted as autoscopy, which is an 'out of body' experience suggested to occur when the ability possessor is asleep or in a trance. That is inaccurate. People with clairvoyance are wide awake and in control of their actions."
"Right. As you've been a professor of parapsychology in India, I'm sure you know about the studies of physic abilities and its human patterns. Now in the last six months based on the brain autopsies, I've come to realize that your theories may indeed hold solid."
Mohinder finishes filling up the beaker and carefully slides it into the cooling chamber. "Oh? And what's that?"
Gabriel pushes his glasses back up his nose with an index finger. "You were right. The physic ability is indeed stronger in the female."
"Good." Mohinder washes his hands at the sink. "Have you located our next potential person?"
"Yes but she's been in intensive custody ever since her parents died." Gabriel's fingers nimbly click on the keyboard. Mohinder reads the information on the screen over Gabriel's shoulder.
"A child," he concludes. "No doubt the offspring of two people possessing the genetic marker."
"I could see if she's of legal age," Gabriel jokes.
"Don't be vulgar," the doctor chastises him. "Where's her file?" Gabriel has barely extended his hand holding the green folder when it is swiftly removed from between his fingers.
Mohinder flips through the file, his eyes scanning the words in an alarming rate of speed-reading that leaves even Gabriel silenced in awe. He hopes later on they can have a hefty competition of Trivial Pursuit just to see who has collected more data in his head.
For now, the doctor's thoughts are preoccupied with the file.
"A human detector?" His voice goes up with interest. "Why not? Centuries ago, scientists tried to locate precious commodities from gold to water. Finding human beings is another step in progress. From this file's background, it seems that the child is quite intuitive about her abilities and has exercised her power on more than one occasion."
"We've got a problem. Another person on our list is her guardian," Gabriel warns him. "And he's got telepathy."
Mohinder's long tapering fingers lock together and he places them to his mouth in thought. "Yes, the cop from Los Angeles," he says at last. "I've run the tests on him before. Of course, he doesn't know anything about Primatech."
Matthew Parkman isn't too much of a threat to Mohinder. His file shows cases of dyslexia, insecurities, and a severed family. Personality shows the potential for a loving father but a constant insecurity about being unable to provide for a family and a slight mistrust of people with superior authority.
He's a swaggering oaf, Mohinder thinks to himself. We just need to push him into his own corner.
"Do you want me to assemble a team?" Gabriel offers. "I can have Knox and Elle take him out before we move the girl to-"
"That won't be necessary," Mohinder says. "I'll meet them in person."
"Alone?" Gabriel's eyebrows arch up in surprise. "Are you sure, Mohinder?"
The doctor gives him such a hard look that Gabriel takes back the question in doubt. When Mohinder's mind is made up, he'll get his way sooner or later. All it takes is the right word at the right time.
A-A-A
The next day:
Matt and Molly are happily preoccupied in doing a jigsaw puzzle at the kitchen table when there is sharp knock at the door.
"Coming!" Matt calls, rising from the table and going to the door. Number 613 opens up revealing a young man with thick dark hair and a coffee-colored complexion. He is dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a leather jacket. His attire may be casual but it's handsomely tailored and looks stylish on his athletic frame.
Molly leans her head out far enough to see the newcomer.
He gives a slight nod of the head and beings to speak. "Good evening. Is this the home of Office Parkman?" The voice is rich and polished. It speaks of warmer climates, of exotic places and darker mysteries.
"Yes it is."
The young man raises an eyebrow of keen interest. "No doubt the same police officer who heroically rescued nine hostages from Sloan Kettering Hospital last month! I read all about it in the papers."
The comment causes Matt to rub the back of his head in sheepish embarrassment.
"Aw, shucks. It really wasn't what it sounded like. I had a whole team working with me."
"Yes, but I was told it was your efforts that brought your mission to success. Please forgive me, I haven't introduced myself." The stranger offers a hand to Matt. "My name is Mohinder Suresh and I'm a geneticist with the Primatech Institute of Special Needs."
Matt's gaze goes from the doctor's hand back up to his face with careful scrutiny. But Mohinder continues in the same fluid voice. "I assure you that this visit is one of absolute personal interest. I have no wish to disrupt your privacy or invade your household."
He sounds so frank and eager that Matt berates himself for the earlier hostile look. "No no, it's all right. Please come in."
"Lovely place you have here," Mohinder says when he steps into the apartment. "How long have you been here?"
"Almost two years next October," Matt says. He gestures to the girl at the table. "And this is my ward, Molly Walker. Molly, this is Mohinder Suresh."
Had Matt been facing Mohinder, he would have caught a flickering blaze in the man's dark eyes like a hungry predator surveying its prey. But the blaze dies down within seconds and there is nothing dangerous for Matt to detect. Mohinder approaches Molly with the gentlest smile on his face.
"So nice to meet you, Molly." He takes a seat close to her at the table, knowing that the child will be examining him with juvenile intuition. But Mohinder has dressed and rehearsed to play the part to perfection.
The mild scent of his cologne is new to Molly but it's a pleasant fragrance. So is the crisp smell of his leather jacket. Those navy-blue sneakers must mean he likes to run and play sports, probably soccer or kickball. The pixie-eyed child grins back at him like a long time friend.
"Coffee?" Matt asks from the kitchen.
"Thank you, yes," Mohinder answers, not taking his eyes off Molly.
Within minutes, two cups of coffee are on the table and Molly has poured herself a glass of milk to join in the conversation. The geneticist begins an interesting discussion about his research with people who bear certain genetic markers and how the Primatech Program helps them develop abilities in a safe and caring environment.
"Of course, no one is forced to accept our organization and its policies," Mohinder explains. "We believe in the freedom of choice for each and every person."
Matt and Molly are soon won over by the sophistication of this newcomer and drawn into the eloquence of his words.
Especially Molly. His voice is smooth and calm and oh so immaculate with that British accent. It's like music to her ears when he talks. She's so glad he talks to her like an adult and doesn't try to dumb down his words as if she was two years old. Molly wonders if he might read to her "James and the Giant Peach" as well as Matt does.
Meanwhile, Matt tries to read Mohinder's mind and finds nothing but sincere thoughts—or so he believes. Mohinder has taught himself to repeat phases over and over again. He has nothing but Molly's best interest in mind.
The enchanted spell continues for several more minutes…..until two pinpricks of metal—seemingly appear out of nowhere—slice through the air and hit Matt and Molly straight in the back of their necks. They slump forward in their chairs. Matt's head hits the table but Mohinder rushes to catch Molly's head. He doesn't want her to be harmed at all. Mohinder cups the heart-shaped face in his hands with tenderness and strokes her cheek.
So young…so helpless…he thinks to himself.
"Well done, Claude," Mohinder calls out to the other room.
The gruff man in the black trench coat materializes out of the shadows.
"It's about bloody time," he grumbles as he switches the tranquilizer gun to his other hand. "Need any help?"
"No thanks. I've got a staff car that will be here in five minutes.
A thick wad of bills is pressed into Claude's hands, silencing any further objections he may have to the doctor. Claude has gotten what he wants and has no qualms until his next assignment. In half an hour he'll be drowning his sorrows at the nearest bar and not give a damn whatever happens to that kid or the man who's been watching her since her parents died.
To Claude, it's every man for himself.
A-A-A
Molly wakes up in a new room that is bright and airy but sterile from the flooding lights. The floor is lined with immaculate white tiles, so different than the thick green carpet in her Brooklyn home. She puts a hand to her forehead and feels it for a fever. Is she dreaming? Did she faint? Where are Matt and the nice stranger?
Molly lifts her head slowly so as to avoid any rush of dizziness. She pushes back the covers slowly, cautiously. The sheets are lavender, her favorite color. All four of the overstuffed pillows are embroidered with delicate white lace. There's even a quilt stitched in pretty bright colors spread across the bed.
She slides her tiny feet to the floor. They fall into a pair of dainty slippers that are just waiting for her on the carpet. Looking around, Molly notices the massive four-poster bed has been placed strategically in the center of the room. In one corner is a computer desk that is just the right size for her. In the other are various assortments of books, dolls, puzzles, games and toys. A mirror takes up the length of an entire wall.
The door clicks open and Molly jumps up as if she's pricked with a pin. The doctor walks in holding a clipboard to his chest. A white lab coat replaces his jacket. He sees the child looking at him, fearfully squeezing a pillow in her arms.
"Are you all right, my dear?" he inquires kindly.
"I, I think so," she answers feebly. Molly's big hazel eyes take in the vast room before resting back at Mohinder's spell-binding gaze.
"What am I doing here?"
"It's part of the program, Molly. We're sometimes asked by family members and loved ones to look in after those who can't take care of themselves. Dear me, you must have been in such a shock! But don't worry. We'll take care of everything. It's just that Matt had some very complicated business and he asked us to make certain you were safe while he was away."
Molly looks puzzled by this lengthy explanation. "But, but….Matt would've told me if something was wrong. He tells me everything!"
He smiles never falters. "I'm sure he does, Molly. Though in this case we'll have to make an exception."
A sudden shiver runs through Molly's small frame and tiny goosebumps form on her arms. She wants to trust this man but there's something about him that makes her begin to worry. He's nice….almost too nice to be true.
"Are you cold?"
Molly watches the doctor take one of of her hands in his larger ones. The contrast of skin is astonishing; rosy peach against dark chocolate. His hand is so warm and soft while her skin is icy to the touch. He cradles her hand gently as if it was a wounded bird.
Someone this nice can't be dangerous. He's not the kind of person that Matt warned me about, Molly assures herself. Then why can't she believe it?
"You dear thing," he coos softly. He lifts her back onto the bed and wraps the quilt around her shoulders.
"They never keep the heat on long enough here. Just a moment."
Mohinder removes a remote control from his pocket and aims it at the ceiling. There is a gentle humming sound and Molly feels the heat pouring in from the air vents. Within seconds the room is a pleasant temperature.
"Feeling better?"
"A little," Molly admits. "But I'd like to go home now."
"That's not possible, Molly. Matt's not ready to take care of you now."
The doctor notices something shiny and pearl-like glimmer on the edge of Molly's eye, winking in the bright lights.
"Now now, Molly," he murmurs gently. He cups her cheek and brushes the tear away with a thumb before it can roll down her cheek. "There's no need to cry. Nobody is going to hurt you or force you to do anything you don't want to do. You'll have books to read and toys to play with and we'll make sure you lack nothing. Remember, it's just for a little while."
"And then will you send me home to Matt?" she asks in a feeble voice.
The velvety smile answers her as a hand softly strokes her hair. "As you wish, my dear."
A-A-A
Mohinder does stay long enough to read four chapters of "James and the Giant Peach" aloud until Molly's head begins to drop. She's almost leaning on his shoulder with exhaustion until she finally falls asleep and her breathing is soft and even. Mohinder sets the book aside and helps her back against the pillows. He removes a syringe from his lab pocket, the same red liquid he was working on before. Now he lifts Molly's arm up and with delicate precision, injects the serum into her arm. Molly doesn't even blink or twitch.
Mohinder makes sure that she's tucked in nice and warm under the covers and continues to sleep peacefully. He even bestows a gentle kiss upon her forehead before he leaves the room.
Once outside, Mohinder swipes a card through the security box and punches in the lengthy code. Maximum protection, of course. He doesn't want anyone or anything disturbing Molly's dreams.
Gabriel Gray is looking through the mirror glass with his arms folded across his chest.
"Really cute, Mo. I almost got cavities," he says in a voice dripping with sarcasm.
"You don't like Rohl Dahl?" Mohinder asks his friend.
"I don't like your methods. Listen, I'm all right when it comes to people condemned to the electric chair. But kids? C'mon, what do you need with the little tykes anyway?"
"Gabriel, you don't understand children," Mohinder sighs with a roll of the eyes. "They are bright sharp little things but you have to work with them, not against them. Molly just needs some coaxing in the right direction until we can get her to cooperate completely. Her potential is brilliant. I'll give Parkman enough credit for hiding her for so long."
"If you say so," Gabriel admits, giving in a little. "I still don't see why we couldn't put Parkman down once and for all with a bullet before bringing her here."
"It'd be far too messy and the girl would be traumatized."
"Hmmm, good point." That's all Gabriel has to say so he strolls off, hands in his pockets and whistling a jaunty tune. Mohinder is left to check at the sleeping figure of Molly. Only the bullet-proof glass is separating those two souls.
Dear sweet fairy of a girl!
I must be getting sentimental, Mohinder thinks as he strokes the window with his long fingers.
Of course Molly would probably weep a bit now and then when she realizes that Parkman cannot find her—let alone rescue her—from the Company. But all she needs is guidance. Under the watchful eye and hand of Dr. Suresh, she can progress into a successful Company cadet.
The child is asleep. As he hovers behind the glass, his thoughts are spinning fast into plans for her future. Oh, Molly is so dear and special to him. That's why she's going to be kept under lock and key, far away from everyone else's eyes.
"Don't worry," he murmurs to the sleeping child. "You're mine now. That's all that matters."
A-A-A
Mohinder's success is not only limited to science.
With the Pays De Caux casino in his power, Mohinder had already begun reworking the business into a more secluded and upscale resort. Gabriel's recent interest in building investments and Elle's flair for décor have helped renovate the place from basement to the top floor.
The results have been successful. Pays De Caux may not hold the glitter and glamour of larger casinos but it has more taste and elegance. The crowds are less boisterous, the wine is of a better quality, the pools are larger, and the sheets on the beds are the silkiest and most luxurious of all. All these changes haven't damaged business at all. If anything, conditions have improved. The rooms are booked for nearly two years in advancement.
While men in suits and women in gowns descend down the grand staircase, Gabriel is sitting in the lounge savoring a vodka martini. He always drinks in moderation and believes this is one occasion to celebrate. Several women are always looking at the man in the gray pinstripe suit but his mind is attracted elsewhere. The doors to the lawn part open and Elle glides forward. She's wrapped from shoulder to ankle in blue silk that shimmers in the moonlight. Her gown flutters in the evening breeze when she approaches Gabriel and sensuously folds herself up in the next chair.
"Where's the boss?" she inquires.
Gabriel points to the ceiling. "Last time I checked he was reading a book in his office."
Elle sighs and busies herself rearranging the sky-blue robes. "He's a smart guy but he can be so boring at times! Doesn't he do anything for fun?"
"I don't know. Crossword puzzles? Matching socks?" Gabriel suggests.
The thought still nags him a bit as Elle drags him to the pool and changes into a black and white stripped bikini. Gabriel pulls off his shirt and comes in swimming trunks. He dives off the deep end and plunges into the pool, swimming towards Elle in strong deep strokes. Soon they are submerged in the aquamarine waters and kissing each other until lungs begged for oxygen and they have to resurface. Elle clings to Gabriel's body, her fingertips stroking at the tufts of dark hair spread across his chest.
His mind is still restless. He itches and scratches the thought, trying to make sense of it.
What on earth gives Mohinder Suresh any pleasure? Gabriel is almost stumped this time.
Exotic foods and lavish smorgasbords? Hardly. Yogurt and fresh fruit were perfectly adequate.
Designer shoes and tailored clothes? Unlikely. He wore the same favorite beige suit to business conferences and meetings.
Savory cocktails? Impossible. Liquor never passed his lips.
Roller coasters? Discos? Golf courses? Sports cars?
Women?
Gabriel pulls his head out of the water and rested his hands on the ledge. He is looking through the open doors where people have gathered to watch the craps table.
And then, almost by chance, two young people walk into the casino.
They're both tanned, lean, and must be in their late 20's. Looks like South American blood, Gabriel guesses. The man is in a simple black suit. The girl is in a pretty pink dress and wears a cross that sparkles on a golden chain around her neck. He has his arm around her in a protective gesture. They both have worried faces as they try to avoid attracting the slightest bit of attention from the crowds of people around them.
Elle notices Gabriel's distraction and swims over to have a better look. "Who are they?"
"Don't know. They don't look like tourists to me."
Gabriel's cell phone rings upon instinct. He doesn't require caller ID to know who it is or what he wants.
"Find out about them."
A-A-A
Mohinder had seen them on his private security cameras. Usually he didn't pay attention to female guests but this one had caught his attention. She doesn't wear a wedding ring. But that man next to her could be her fiancée or a close relative.
She looks very pretty to Mohinder. Her shoulders are slim and elegant and that pink dress is very becoming to her figure. White pumps are on her dainty feet. She must be an excellent dancer, he thinks to himself.
Mohinder doesn't have to wait long. Gabriel shows up in the elevator with answers. He's still damp from the pool and wearing one of the hotel's fluffy white bathrobes.
"Well?"
Gabriel rubs his damp hair with a towel. "They're twins from the Dominion Republic. Maya and Alejandro Herrera. They actually want to meet you."
Mohinder tries to keep his cool but he cannot help tapping his fingers on the desk in an effort to contain himself. "Really?"
"Seems they've got a problem on their hands with the girl and they've spent most of their money trying to find you. Shall I send them up?"
"No," Mohinder replies quickly. "I'll come down to meet them."
There is a sigh coming down the other end of the corridor. "Gabriel," calls Elle in a sing-song voice. "When are you coming back into the pool?"
"Never mind this time." Mohinder waves a hand in the air. "Enjoy yourself, Gabriel. I'll handle this myself."
A-A-A
Ten minutes later, Mohinder comes downstairs to the casino lobby. He's dressed in his old beige suit but it still looks smart on him, especially when contrasted with a pale blue shirt.
"So nice to meet you," he replies upon seeing Alejandro Herrera. "You'll forgive me but my Spanish is rather poor."
"No, not at all señor. We are only too glad to meet you." Alejandro motions to the woman standing next to him. "This is my sister, Maya."
The dark-haired beauty wants to lower her eyes for the sake of modesty. After all, she's been taught not to fall into the trap of seduction. But the man before her nearly takes her breath away. Maya thought Dr. Suresh would be an old man with a withered face and weary eye. This young man is astonishingly handsome. The eye is lively with a passionate glint, the jawline sharp and commanding. His hair is thick and dark and forms soft curls around the face. A single strand lies rebelliously across his forehead, almost tempting her to reach out and brush it back into place.
"Maya," the doctor repeats. His lips move eloquently when he speaks. "What a pleasure to meet you." Ceremoniously he brings her hand to his lips and kisses it. Her cheeks flush from the flattery.
"Please, señor. You must help us. We could not find anyone else who knows what to do about Maya," Alejandro begs.
Mohinder waved a hand around the casino. "Of course. But this isn't a suitable place to talk privately. Why don't we retire upstairs?"
A-A-A
Dr. Suresh appears so cultured and interesting as he pours out drinks for Maya and Alejandro. He assures them that Maya is not in any danger but praises them for taking affirmative action in trying to find him. If they agree to come to Primatech then he can have her enrolled into one of their programs and Maya will not pose as a risk to anyone for much longer. He also asks Alejandro if he'd like to examine the rest of the casino and would it be all right if Dr. Suresh spends a few minutes with his sister?
Alejandro is usually so overbearing that Maya can't get away from her brother for more than ten minutes. But the doctor's assurance is quite solid and the resort's beauty holds many offerings for a young man. Mohinder sends down one final message to Gabriel to make sure Alejandro is "preoccupied' for the next few hours. Maybe Elle's friends will know what to do with him.
After Alejandro leaves, Maya is offered to see view from the window. She comes closer to where the doctor is standing and peeps out at the magnificent scene.
"Oh..." she whispers quietly.
Maya is lost for words. She can see miles of land stretched out across the Nevada horizon where the sun dips behind the clouds. The formerly cloudless blue sky is now a deep purple tint and spotted with clouds of pale pink. A few stars begin to twinkle above them.
She sees doctor's reflection in the glass approaching her. She can feel the heat of his body when he stands behind her. Two hands rest on her shoulders and she feels prickles of pleasure running up and down her spine. It's been a long time since a man made her feel like this. She knows she shouldn't think about it but deep down inside, something stirs within Maya. She wants him to touch her, to posses her.
"I always thought Maya was the name of a beautiful flower," Mohinder murmurs into her ear. His voice is like cool water flowing over rocks, like delicate bells chiming in harmony. He brushes a lock of shiny black hair off her neck and kisses her on the shoulder. She tastes of lavender, causing him to inhale deeply and explore the rest of her skin.
His mouth hits a sensitive spot for Maya, who closes her eyes and moans softly. The stubble from his chin grazes her skin in a ticklish gesture. It felt so good…too good to be wrong. The touch of his lips makes her melt and stir inside. She presses her palms to the glass in an attempt to steady herself but then thinks otherwise. Maya brings her hands behind her head and touches his head. The curls are soft and silky to the touch. They beckon Maya to be caressed and she complies, sliding her hands around Mohinder's head to the nape of his neck.
"You are like a flower," he whispers against her throat. "So soft…so exquisite.." Mohinder's fingers tilt her chin up to his face and this time the kiss is long and full on her mouth. His tongue swiftly darts across her lips in a request for something more intimate. Mohinder knows the game is won when Maya's knees weaken and she slumps against him, helpless and hungry.
Somewhere in the presence of the kiss, Mohinder remembers to wrap his arms around Maya and carry her to the bedroom. Her arms are still twined around his neck and she clings to him passionately. Maya only lets go when she feels the doctor place her gently onto the bed. He looks down at her all pink and flushed against the pristine white sheets. Maya's fingers are curled into her hands which rest on either side of her head. Her deep brown eyes glisten with passion.
"We, we cannot," she protests softly. Mohinder kneels on the bed beside her.
"Why not?" he inquires, trailing a finger down her arm. Sparks shiver in her blood. She wants more.
"I…I do not know," Maya responds. Her chest rises and falls rapidly with every breath; wanting, lingering.
"Don't worry. I won't hurt you." A strong arm snakes around Maya's waist and turns her over onto her back. The fingers deftly draw the zipper of her dress down in a faint hiss. She feels the cool air whistling on her bare skin. His curls brush against the small of her back as he plants kiss after kiss up and down her spine.
"Trust me, I'm a doctor," he teased her lightly. "I know everything about people."
She watched in spellbound fascination as he unbuttons his shirt and draws it off. His warm brown skin glows in the light and the muscles of his chest ripple for her to see. Maya's hands roam from his broad shoulders down to his torso in fascination. He is clearly enchanting and the heat in his skin is thrilling to her touch. She wants to sculpt his body with her hands, to learn every inch of this fascinating body.
Mohinder unbuckles his belt and draws down his pants revealing slim taut hips. Maya helps him tug them off and toss them aside. They both lay back down on the bed and are lost in each other's embraces and kisses. She feels herself rising and falling with his movements, melting against him and gliding with him. She arches her back and moans deeply from the thrilling pleasure.
There's nothing else in Mohinder's mind for the moment. DNA samples, lists of muscles and nerve cells, the names of constellations in the universe all blacken out. The scientist shuts down while the man emerges for the night and revels in the beauty and pleasure of this woman and her body. It's a rare moment in time when he can pour out his essence and reshape himself, only to rise anew and be refreshed for the next day. Mohinder knows that to deny his instincts as a human being is a futile effort. He is a man and he has wants and needs. It is only natural to obey desires and fulfill them.
He buries his fingers in Maya's hair and continues his kisses from her collarbone down to the soft curve of her stomach. With every fiber of his body throbbing in passion, Mohinder presses himself into Maya.
A-A-A
The hot sun rises up the next morning and flashes across the sky. It streams through the windows and filters into Mohinder's eyes. He rubs the sleep away and blinks twice. The fractured red digits on his clock read 7:30 AM. For him, that's a ridiculous amount of time to be oversleeping. But it was a well-deserved break.
Mohinder glances at Maya, who lies beside him like a nymph. Her graceful figure is wrapped in the white linen sheets that outline her graceful body. Her lips are formed into a smile of happiness. Mohinder wants to stay next to her but his body is already restless. He slides off the bed and pulls on a cotton robe.
He walks over to the window and admires the clear azure sky before him. Very soon he'll be having a hot shower and light breakfast. He hopes Maya will join him. Then he'll need to call Gabriel away and out of bed (while Elle sleeps in until noon) to ask for status updates. Gabriel's next assignment is in Texas where reports are circulating about a 16 year old girl who escaped from a fire. Mohinder will probably be spending the rest of the day in his study until his evening flight to Tokyo. He ponders about the mysteries of life and wonders what new surprises await him that day.
Some floors below, Gabriel and Elle are still sleeping peacefully and wrapped up in each others arms.
Alejandro will gradually come around from a half-drunk coma in the lounge and wonder about the new pocketful of money that he mysteriously won last night.
Matt will come around and find himself in the Training Room, forced to fight for his life against Eden and Knox.
Molly will wake up and begin to weep when she realizes that the doctor lied and the drug in her body is making her weak and confused.
President Nathan Petrelli will begin working on his next public speech which says that Dr. Mohinder Suresh is the most suitable candidate for Surgeon General.
Peter Petrelli will still be sleeping underground while birds and flowers breathe over his tomb in the cemetery.
Claire Bennett and Hiro Nakamura will find their ordinary lives disrupted and taking unusual turns in the near future.
All around the world, people will be moving, talking, breathing, and walking. Some of them may suspect that there is something strange afoot. Others will know of their secretive abilities and attempt to hide them. Others may flitter by, too wrapped up in their own silly lives to care.
For those who need help, they will be desperately seeking answers and guidance. They need only inquire for Mohinder and he will appear with his army of resources and knowledge. For him, knowledge is power and he is a god.
He folds his arms across his chest and smiles out at the sun. Today is going to be a very good day.