A/N: Set during "Six Months Ago." Spoilers for Volumes 1 and 2.

Reflections

The sounds of New York City in the early summer floated in through the open windows of the cab. The passenger took little notice of the chattering pedestrians, honking cars and calls from food vendors. His attention was absorbed by the manila folder open in his hands. The label said 'Dr. Chandra Suresh.' The cab slowed to a stop at a traffic light. A tremendous crash on the sidewalk successfully snared the passenger's attention. Sunlight glittered off the broken shards of a mirror as a man stood cursing at two uniformed movers. The reflected light glinted on the glasses of the cab's passenger.

Noah Bennet returned his attention to the folder. A phone call from the folder's subject had prompted Bennet to schedule a trip to the city. A carefully worded report to his superiors resulted in permission to fly up in the Company jet and use an apartment. The cab pulled up in front of the Company's headquarters. Bennet slipped the file into his bag. He paid the cabbie and exited the car. The steel and glass of the skyscraper stretched above him, indifferent and ordinary. Bennet spared it a glance before sweeping through the revolving doors.

It was around 7:00 p.m. and the lobby was nearly empty. Bennet handed his identification to the guard at the gate and signed into the register. The guard passed him through the gate with a wave, and Bennet strode toward the elevator. He punched a code into the keypad and entered the elevator after the stainless steel doors parted. A short ride took him to the administration level. He exited the elevator with the insipid muzak still ringing in his ears and his bag slung over his shoulder.

"Noah!" floated a familiar voice down the corridor. Bennet turned to see Bob Bishop walking down the hall. Bennet pasted a friendly grin on his face.

"Bob," he replied, taking the other man's hand. "It's been awhile."

Bob possessed his usual phlegmatic air. A brown suit, bald pate and rectangular glasses completed the image of an upper-level manager. Bennet heard he had been at the New York offices for the past five months on special assignment. Bennet knew this designation could mean anything from administrative instruction to combat training.

"Indeed," Bob said. "How are things down in Texas? I heard you picked up a promising new recruit recently."

Bennet knew better than to be surprised Bob already knew about Sarah Ellis. "Yes. She has excellent potential; just needs a little direction."

"Good," Bob replied. "We always welcome fresh faces here."

Bennet masked an urge to quirk an eyebrow at Bob's effortless spouting of the company line. He just smiled and nodded.

"I take it you're here for the night?" Bob asked.

"Yeah," Bennet replied. "I just need someplace to lay my head down. In the morning I meet with a scientist who has been studying people with abilities."

"I read your report," Bob said, his expression unchanged but Bennet perceived a new sharpness in his tone. "It was a little vague on how you found him."

Bennet had hoped to avoid discussing this point until he had spoken with Dr. Suresh. He gave an embarrassed chuckle.

"I know," he said, looking contrite. "We've had several guests mention recent contact with him in passing. I finally decided to look into it. No single person gave us anything definitive, and since the Haitian also visited them…"

Bennet let the sentence trail off, hoping he would let it go for now. He didn't want Bob to assign back-up, or worse, decide to accompany him.

"I see," Bob replied. He looked at Bennet for a long moment before speaking again. "Well, I better let you get some rest. Come by and see me tomorrow after your meeting. I'll want to hear all about it."

Bennet smiled and shook Bob's hand again. They slipped past each other, Bob headed toward the elevator and Bennet toward the office Bob had just exited. Just before entering the office, Bennet looked down the hall at Bob's retreating back. The timing of the encounter suggested Bob had been waiting to catch him in the hall. Bennet filed that thought away for later consideration.

A brief exchange with the administrative assistant at the front desk in the office netted Bennet a key card to one of the small apartments the Company maintained in the building. After another elevator ride and a walk down the hall, Bennet slid the card into a reader above the door handle. The door opened to reveal a set of tasteful and impersonal rooms.

Bennet spared a thought for his Texas home before setting down his bag. His family would be getting ready for dinner about now. Sandra would be stirring various dishes on the stove in between chatting with the kids about their days and cooing to the dog. Lyle would be setting the table, complaining about the unfairness of the chore since Claire didn't have to help. Claire would roll her eyes, pretending to do her homework on the kitchen island while an earbud murmured pop music into one ear. Mr. Muggles would be dancing around Sandra's feet, begging for scraps and complaining if they were slow in coming. Bennet dismissed the warm images, irritated at the nostalgia that seemed to interrupt his thoughts lately.


Two hours later, clad in a cotton t-shirt and pajama bottoms, Bennet leaned back against the headboard of the bed. A couple of phone calls earlier had ensured delivery of a meal and pickup of his suit for laundering. The file was back in his hands. His evening routine was nearly complete except for one important task. Bennet tossed the file on the bed and reached for his cellphone on the side table. There were three rings before the phone was picked up on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Lyle?" Bennet said. "It's your father."

"Hey Dad," replied Lyle with his typical verbal apathy.

"Don't sound too excited, son," Bennet teased. "I might get the wrong impression."

"I just saw you this morning, Dad, dang."

Bennet could almost hear the eye-roll accompanying that statement. He chuckled and asked Lyle how his day went. Receiving the expected reply of fine, he told Lyle he loved him and to put his sister on the phone.

"Claire! Phone!" Lyle shouted, without covering the receiver. He set the handset down with a thump. Bennet waited a few seconds and brought the cellphone back to his ear. He could barely hear Sandra scolding Lyle for hollering in the house and Claire's shoes clicking across the kitchen tile.

"Why do you have to be such a dork?" came Claire's voice as she picked up the phone.

"I believe we agreed I'm more of a nerd," Bennet said, grinning at Claire's snort.

"Dad!" Claire protested. "I was talking to Lyle. And you are a nerd."

"How's your hand, Claire-Bear?" Bennet asked.

"It's fine," she replied. "It wasn't really that bad. It didn't even need stitches when we got to the hospital. I guess all that blood made it look worse than it was."

Bennet frowned. Sandra had told him the same information when they got back from the hospital the previous night and it had been nagging at him. His line of work guaranteed a steady stream of injuries and in his experience that should have taken at least a dozen sutures to close.

"Dad? You still there?" Claire prompted. "You didn't fall asleep, did you?"

"Sorry, honey," Bennet said. "Just thinking."

"Why'd you call if you're not going to talk?" Claire teased. "Some people have important things they could be doing right now."

"Just put your mother on the phone," Bennet replied. "Good night and I love you."

"I love you too, Dad," Claire said. Bennet heard some rustling as the phone changed hands.

"Hello lover," Sandra said a moment later. Bennet heard the teenagers ewwing loudly in the background. Sandra ordered them to shush before getting back on the line. "How's New York?"

"Loud, crowded and lonely," Noah replied. A new smile flitted across his features, the intimate one reserved for his wife. He could hear the answering smile in her next words.

"Well, there isn't anything anyone can do about the first two things," she said. "And I can't do anything about the last one because there are children in the house right now."

Bennet laughed as faint cries of "Mom!" and "Gross!" reached his ear.

"That's what you get for eavesdropping!"

"You think we've disgusted them enough for one evening?" he asked her.

"I suppose we have," Sandra conceded. "When will you be home?"

"Looks like the day after tomorrow," he replied. "But it might be late. I'll call you before I leave New York."

"Just be careful," Sandra said, her tone suddenly somber. "I worry to death about you in that big city."

"Don't. I'm just going to meetings all day," Noah reassured her. "The worst that could happen is a paper cut or a coffee spill."

"Still, be careful," Sandra said, unswayed. "I love you, Noah."

"I love you too, Sandra," he replied. "Goodnight."

She returned the goodnight, holding the phone toward the kids as they dutifully chorused the same. Bennet slowly closed the phone and laid it on the side table. He set the folder beside it, followed by his glasses and clicked the lights off. Habit allowed him to clear his mind quickly and let sleep overtake him.


A peculiar sensation crept along his hand. Bennet stirred, pulling the limb away from the irritating stimulus. The crawling prickle abruptly became a sizzling sting. Bennet bolted upright, jerking his hand toward his body. The rude departure from sleep made his movements clumsy, but he managed to keep from falling out of the bed. A giggle from his direct left accompanied his flailing, the same side as the abused hand. Bennet blinked furiously against the bright light flooding the room from the east-facing window. Another giggle provided a clue to the identity of his apparent attacker.

"Miss Bishop," Bennet said, clearing his throat. He had almost reached into the side table drawer for his gun in those first confused seconds. He settled for putting on his glasses now. Elle's features came into focus. She was kneeling on the other side of the mattress, hand still stretched out from zapping him. She gave him a winning smile. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I thought you were going to sleep all morning!" Elle replied. "I figured a harmless little jolt would help get you up and moving."

Displaying impeccable timing, the alarm clock began to beep loudly, the numbers flashing along. It was 7 a.m. Bennet shut it off with exaggerated care, tempted to fling it across the room. He turned away from Elle so she couldn't see the irritation on his face. She scooted closer, wrapping her hands around his arm.

"See? Time to get up!" Elle said. Bennet pulled out of reach of the overly-familiar touch, and stood up. He turned back to see Elle crossing her arms and looking put out.

"How did you get in here?" he asked, though he knew the answer already.

"Daddy's master key, of course," she replied. The 'duh!' was left unspoken, but was clear in her tone.

"Okay," Bennet said carefully. "But why are you here?"

Elle unfolded her arms and slid the rest of the way across the bed. Bennet resisted the urge to step away as she bounded to a standing position and wrapped one hand around his arm and the other over his shoulder. "Can't I just want to see a familiar face from Primatech?"

"That's very touching," Bennet said slowly. "But it couldn't have waited until a little later?"

Bennet bit back a sigh of relief as Elle laughed and dropped his arm, striding abruptly toward the exit of the bedroom.

"Not when I was bringing your suit and breakfast to you," she said airily, gesturing toward the next room. Bennet stared at her, not certain he had heard her correctly. "It was going to get cold."

"Breakfast?" he repeated dubiously.

"Pancakes, eggs, bacon, hash browns, sausage, fruit, bagels, coffee, juice," Elle listed. "I wasn't sure what you liked. I even brought a newspaper."

Bennet felt a headache starting to pulse behind his eyes, keeping time with the throbbing in his left hand. Elle waited expectantly in the doorway, one hand perched on a hip. Bennet sighed and walked toward her. She looked smug as she flounced into the next room. Bennet found a small feast laid out on a serving cart and his laundry hanging in the open closet.

"I think I need a shower first," Bennet announced, grabbing the clothes. "If you don't mind, how about covering that food up so it stays warm."

Elle scowled, but didn't argue as Bennet ducked back into the bedroom. He also grabbed his overnight bag and went into the bathroom. He locked the door, feeling a little paranoid, but not trusting Elle to stay out. A shower helped to soothe away his headache, but did nothing for the angry burn on the back of his hand. As he was shaving Bennet briefly wondered how furious Bob would be if he were to 'accidentally' taser Elle. These things happened all the time during training. A sharp throb from his hand seemed to confirm the efficacy of this plan but Bennet buried the vengeful impulse. He finished dressing, sliding his gun into its holster and steeled himself to go back into the front room.

Elle was slouched on the couch, a bowl of sliced fruit in her lap as she watched one of the morning shows on television. She was eying one of the female anchors critically.

"Can you believe she actually left the house wearing that?" Elle demanded. "I wouldn't be caught dead with that on."

Bennet wasn't sure what was so offensive about the outfit and didn't reply. He pulled the lids off the still warm plates on the serving cart and set them on the table. He began to eat and read the newspaper, ignoring the stare directed his way from the couch. Midway through his plate, Elle got up from the couch and came to sit in the chair across from him. She watched him intently as he ate, occasionally nibbling a slice of fruit. Bennet knew her real purpose didn't have anything to do with catching up with an old friend. He wasn't quite sure what she was after yet, but he could afford to wait. He continued to eat, projecting an air of supreme indifference to Elle's pointed stare. It was Elle who cracked first.

"So," she said, with forced casualness. "Good?"

"Mm-hmm," Bennet replied, not raising his eyes from the newspaper. Elle waited, tapping a finger against the tabletop. He said nothing else.

"Suit come out okay?" Elle asked, after a minute of silence passed.

"Yup," he said, without further elaboration. Elle waited again for more, and then blew a sigh when it was clear none was forthcoming.

"Look, I know you're probably wondering what this is all about," she began. Bennet finally looked up from the paper but didn't say anything. Elle took in his even expression before speaking again.

"I don't know if you know this, but I've been training to become a field operative," she began. Bennet had known but remained silent. "Daddy says I'm close to being ready, but I need some supervised field work with a senior agent. Someone with a lot of experience."

Bennet felt something like astonishment come over him. Elle was angling to work with him. He stared at her, turning the idea over in his head. Elle's history was well-known among the management at Primatech and her antics had resulted in strict supervision being required during all outings. Bennet found it a bit difficult to believe that Bob was prepared to allow her to work on real assignments, even with a senior agent. His doubts must have shown on his face.

"It's true," Elle insisted. "Daddy promised."

"Elle," Bennet began, choosing his words carefully. "Are you sure your father intended for me to do that? I'm not in New York very often and I tend to be very busy when I am here."

"That's not a problem!" she replied. "We're going back to Texas in a couple of months. Plus, I can tag along whenever you're here. I could even go along this morning…"

Her voice trailed off as Bennet held a hand up. "Elle, the meeting I have this morning is rather delicate. The man is expecting just me. It would look very strange if you went along."

"I'll wait outside," she wheedled. "He won't even know I'm there. I could cover your back."

"I don't think that will be necessary," Bennet replied. "It's not that kind of assignment."

Elle subsided, crossing her arms and glaring at him. He returned the challenging stare for a moment before looking back down at his paper. She stewed for a minute before her posture changed. She got up from her chair and casually walked around to his side of the table. Bennet, still apparently engrossed by the newspaper, started when she ran her hands over his shoulders. She did it again, letting her hands come to rest, lightly pressing her thumbs into the muscles.

"I know it probably gets lonely on the road," Elle whispered, leaning close to his ear. "It doesn't have to be."

Bennet felt a wave of revulsion roll over him as the words reached him. The disgust was followed by a spark of genuine anger. He stood so fast Elle had to jump back to keep from being knocked over by the chair. Bennet rounded on her, two long strides bringing him within reach. He grabbed her by the wrists, forcing her hands together. Electricity crackled along her palms, but didn't escape. He stood over her and saw real fear in her eyes.

"Too far, Elle," Bennet said in a cold voice. "I love my wife and I don't cheat."

"Let me go!" Elle yelled, twisting against his grip. He released her and she stumbled back. Raw fear still showed on her face and electricity crackled on both hands. "You didn't have to do that!"

"Why is it so important that you go out there with me?" Bennet demanded, undeterred by the smell of ozone in the air. "There are field agents based in New York."

Elle set her jaw, trying to look defiant. Bennet took a step toward her, his own expression still angry. Elle dropped her gaze after a moment and the sparks faded from her hands.

"Because.." she trailed off. She swallowed and started again. "Because Daddy won't assign anyone to work with me. And I thought if someone like you told him you were willing to work with me, that I would finally get a chance."

Elle didn't look up as she continued.

"Daddy will never let me leave this place unless it's for an assignment. I need someone to convince him that I'm ready. So I can make him proud."

Bennet felt an unexpected twinge of pity as he looked at Elle. She suddenly seemed much younger than her years, the playful vamp banished by an uncertain child. He watched her for another minute as she struggled to control her trembling lip and filling eyes. Bennet took a deep breath before speaking.

"You can't work with me, Elle," he told her. Elle's eyes flew up to his, hurt etched across her features. "Not today."

She took in his last statement, clearly trying to determine what he meant by it. Bennet felt another spark of pity for this young woman who could easily have been Claire.

"But I will speak to your father," Bennet continued. Hope blossomed on her face. "I'll ask him about your progress. If, and only if, I feel like you've made enough progress I'll recommend that he starts giving you field assignments."

As promises went, it was pretty weak. Elle didn't seem to care though as she swiped at her eyes. Bennet adopted a stern expression. "I want you to go now. I have to leave soon for my meeting."

"I will," Elle replied. She reached up and laid a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."

Bennet nodded in reply, and then tipped his head toward the door. Elle took the hint and left, closely the door quietly behind her. Bennet rubbed his forehead as the pounding in his head resumed a thumping beat.


Bennet paid the cab driver, giving him a generous tip as he slid out of the airport cab. The man grunted his thanks and sped away as soon as Bennet was clear. Bennet was too tired to take offense at the man's impatience. He was home. He let himself in the front door and was immediately confronted by a yapping ball of fluff. Mr. Muggles continued to bark until Bennet reached down and gave him an obligatory scratch behind the ears.

"Dad!" Lyle, drawn by the raspy barks, greeted his dad with a hug. Bennet returned the hug, and then reached into his suit pocket, pulling out a baseball card in a plastic sleeve. Lyle's eyes went wide as he examined the card. "Cool."

Sandra came out of the kitchen, drawn by the ruckus. Bennet dropped his bag and the bear on the floor and swept Sandra into an embrace. He returned her kiss with enthusiasm while Lyle groaned.

"God, get a room you guys," he grumbled. "Gross."

"Well, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea," Noah said teasingly to Sandra. "Does it?"

"Later, honey," Sandra replied with a wink. "I've got some spaghetti boiling right now that is fixing to clump if I don't get back in there."

"You know I love it when you talk pasta," Bennet grinned, giving Sandra another peck before releasing her. She swatted playfully at his chest before heading toward the kitchen.

Bennet trudged up the stairs, overnight bag weighing down one hand and the stuffed bear in the other. As he crested the steps a distinctive rustling noise and flashes of color caught his attention. Claire stood in front of her mirror, cheerleading uniform on, pom-poms waving about with great energy. He stood watching for a moment.

"Cheerleading, huh?" Bennet said. Claire started and looked strangely guilty for a moment. The odd expression was replaced by a nervous smile.

"What do you think?"

Bennet dropped his bag on the floor and stepped into the room. "I think I can't wait to go to my first game."

Claire stepped into his open embrace, returning the hug with enthusiasm. Bennet held the hug for a moment, then stepped back while turning his attention to the stuffed bear in his hand. "Well, you might be getting a little bit old for the bears from around the world…"

"No, I'm not!" Claire protested with a teasing smile. "I love my bears."

"Aw," Bennet smiled indulgently as Claire laid the bear on the crowded bed. Claire turned back with a serious expression.

"Am I a terrible person?"

"What are you talking about?" Bennet asked, puzzled at the quick shift.

"I want to be a cheerleader. I mean I've worked hard to be a cheerleader," Claire said, that strange expression crossing her features again. "Sometimes Jackie can just be a…"

"A bitch?" Bennet guessed. He chuckled at her scandalized expression, then she laughed a bit.

"Yeah, a bitch."

"It's your actions that make you good or bad," Bennet reassured her, without a trace of irony. "Cheerleader or not."

She smiled at him, fidgeting with the bears. Bennet's gaze was drawn to the white gauze on her injured hand. "Let's take a look at that hand."

"The pain went away," Claire mused as she unwrapped it. "But I think it's still kinda…"

Claire's voice trailed off as the wrapping fell away and an undamaged palm was revealed. The skin was smooth and unscarred. Bennet reached out to take the hand, turning it over as he examined it.

"That's healed really nicely," Bennet remarked. He was sure even Claire could hear the forced casualness in his tone. He gave her a reassuring smile when she glanced up at him. His smile dropped away when she looked back down. Bennet followed her gaze, catching sight of the fading red mark on the back of his left hand. He looked from the mark to Claire, the blond tendrils framing her face. He suddenly pulled her into a tight hug, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"Uh, dad," Claire said. "Not that I don't love you or anything, but you're kind of crushing me."

Bennet loosened his embrace, looking at her apologetically. "It seemed like a long trip, sweetie. I'm just glad to be home."

Claire patted his side and then turned back to her pom-poms. Bennet turned to leave, stepping back to the hall. He picked up his bag and straightened up. As he stood, he saw Claire examining her hand, flexing it tightly. Her expression was thoughtful. Bennet glanced down at his own hand, trying to ignore the anxious feeling balling up in his gut.

The End

A/N: This piece was intended mostly as an exploration of Bennet's voice (POV). Constructive criticism is always welcome.