A Note From Lara: Pemma = amazing. You have no idea. I wasn't even like this about Syelle, and I LOVE Syelle! It's kind of bizarre how obsessed with this ship I am, even for me, and I'm the QUEEN of obsessive. Anyway, I was pondering all the Pemma we DIDN'T get to see in Tabula Rasa, and then I wondered what might have happened if Hiro hadn't turned up in Peter's apartment. I'm not sure where he went instead... maybe he's in Claire's dorm now? IDK. The title is inspired by the Pearl Jam song. Which is awesome, and I love.

Normally, Peter looked forward to going to work each morning. The prospect that in a few minutes time he would be saving lives was a bright one. This job, this work that he was doing... it was what he was meant to do. It was the most important thing in his life, and he enjoyed it immensely. There was something so much more satisfying about it than his hospice work had ever been.

But this morning, his heart just wasn't in it as he prepared to leave to head to the hospital. And that wasn't just because without a particularly useful power, he was going to have to settle for rescuing people the "normal" way. No, it was the power's original owner that was weighing on his spirits today, and he knew it.

Peter knew it was ridiculous to care so much about the reactions of a total stranger, but he couldn't help himself. He'd spent the entire night tossing and turning, regretting that final comment he'd made that had so upset her. Because, well, Bennet was right. Hesam excepted, Peter had essentially no human contact outside the occasional brief phone call with his family. He had hoped that maybe he could make a friend.

So much for that, though, if her hasty retreat after his poorly-planned mention of the file room was anything to judge by. He'd be lucky if she'd even meet his eyes, let alone want to have a conversation with him.

All this couldn't prevent him from going to work and doing his job, though, so with a dismal sigh, he put the file clerk (whose name, Hesam had informed him, was Emma) as much out of his head as he could manage, and resigned himself to having to take the bus like normal people today.

--

It was the day from hell, Peter thought as he helped Hesam lower a spinal injury patient out of the back of the ambulance. Apparently the New York commuters were even worse at obeying traffic laws than usual today, because there had been at least a half-dozen car accidents in the two hours he'd been at work already today. That, plus a warehouse fire down near the harbor, had kept the paramedics at Mercy Heights hopping all morning, and Peter had never felt more helpless. The only good thing about being this busy with no (useful) powers was that it had created the perfect opportunity to avoid Emma completely.

But the influx of emergency calls had slowed, and the other teams were handling them, so he and Hesam had a sudden respite. Peter wandered aimlessly out into the corridor, thinking maybe he would try to find something caffeinated to make up for his sleepless night.

"Peter!"

He turned around, startled at the sound of the familiar voice from behind him. "Emma?" he asked in surprise. He noticed that she was wearing her blonde hair down today, and decided he liked it. It softened her face and made her look really very pretty.

She smiled as she hurried up to him, but it looked forced, and he instantly realized that something was wrong. All thoughts of her holding a grudge over his ill-done comment disappeared. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She took a breath, then let it out in a huff as she searched for the right words. Finally, she said, "There's something... wrong with my ability."

Oh no. Peter had never really had a chance to enjoy his abilities, with everything that had happened so soon after he first manifested. Emma's power was so beautiful, he hated the idea that something had happened to scare her. She didn't deserve that. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as he guided her out of the hallway and into the rec room.

"What happened?" he asked once they were mostly out of the public eye.

"I was... when I came home last night, someone had put a cello in my apartment. It wasn't you, was it?" He shook his head, and was concerned to realize that the near-panic that showed only in her eyes increased. Emma sighed. "Wonderful," she muttered. "Complete strangers in my apartment." Then she shook her head, as if trying to dismiss an unwanted thought. "I started to play it. I was watching the lights, and the... the ghosts of my past came up, I guess, and all of a sudden there was a crack in my wall. I think... I think I put it there, somehow."

Peter stared at her, head cocked a little to one side as he thought about it that for a moment. Some kind of sonic manipulation, maybe...? But before he could say anything, Emma asked, "How do I make it stop?"

"You can't," he said.

Emma's dark eyes flared with stubbornness. "No, there has to be a way to get rid of this!" she insisted.

He shook his head. "Emma, it's part of who you are."

"Well it's a part I don't want!" she said firmly.

"Don't say that," he said. "It's scary sometimes, when it first happens, and there are always different sides to these powers, sometimes things we don't expect. But it's an amazing time, even so. You just have to pay the price for the power. And sometimes the price is higher than you're willing to pay," he added, remembering his own experience. "But I don't think it will be in your case. Not with your power."

Emma looked at him in silence for a few seconds, mulling that over. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say a word, Peter's pager went off. He closed his eyes and sighed in frustration. Then he pulled the irritating device out of his pocket and held it up to show her. "Sorry," he said. "I have to go." Before he turned away, he touched her hand gently. "We'll talk about this later?" She nodded, and he half-sprinted out of the room.

--

Suddenly, Peter was desperate to get his shift over with so he could get back to Emma. He hated the thought of her sitting alone in the file room and worrying about her ability, not when he should be able to take away all her fears.

"Where's your head, man?" Hesam suddenly asked.

"What?"

The other man looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "What's up with you?" he asked. "You've been in this world of your own ever since we got back on the job. Something happen while we were off?"

Peter shrugged. "Nah, I'm just... thinking about stuff. Sorry. I'll get my head back in the game."

Hesam snorted. "Suit yourself," he said. "But just so you know... I do have eyes, my friend. You asked about Emma yesterday, and I saw you talking to her today."

Though he really wasn't sure what his partner was getting at, Peter decided to let that slide. Talking, or for that matter, even thinking about Emma wasn't going to help him focus on the job in the slightest. She was... distracting.

--

When his shift finally ended, Peter hurried down to her office, only to discover that she wasn't there. For a moment, he thought he had missed her and she'd gone home already, and it was an unexpectedly strong disappointment. Then he heard a quiet melody on the piano drifting through the hallways, and followed the sound back to the rec room.

He paused in the doorway, watching Emma from behind as she played the gentle song that had drawn him to her. It made him think of that first night when he had encountered her in the park. The sound of her playing had called to him, a musical lure he couldn't resist even if he'd wanted to. This woman seemed to have a way of pulling him right back to her. A small smile crossed his lips as he leaned against the doorframe; he didn't think he was particularly averse to that.

The brilliant colors, violet and crimson, sapphire and jade, rose from the piano's sounding board and resonated in the air as the sounds swam in a matching song through the room. And finally, after some minutes, Emma finished with a legato run up the scale. As the final wisp of emerald light faded away, he approached the piano. He tapped lightly on the top of the instrument to catch her attention.

Emma looked up at him, and he caught a glimpse of a look of wonder that she quickly wiped from her face- but not fast enough to keep him from seeing it.

"That was beautiful," he said, smiling.

She smiled back as he sat down next to her.

"So how are you?" he asked.

"Better," she said. "But I'm afraid. There's more to this ability than the colors, and I don't know what it is. What if something happens?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. But you can learn to control it. I could help you, if you want."

Emma's smile was back again. "I'd like that. Maybe we could have lunch tomorrow, figure it out."

Peter started at the repetition of the exact words he'd spoken to her yesterday. When he met her eyes, she was grinning even more widely than before. The sight of her face so full of merriment caused an unexpected swooping sensation in his stomach. "Sounds good," he said a little nervously, and he was glad she couldn't hear the slight wobble in his voice.

They agreed on a time. Just as Peter was about to leave, Emma laid a hand on his upper back, just as she had done the day before to get his attention. He turned to face her, trying to ignore the fact that the place she had touched suddenly felt hypersensitive.

"Peter... I never thanked you for saving my life yesterday," she said hesitantly. "And now you've been so sweet today. I just... thank you."

He smiled. "Any time," he said, trying to pretend it was nothing.

But it wasn't nothing. It wasn't even close to nothing. As he walked out of the rec room, his heart was infinitely lighter than it had been when he came to work this morning. Emma didn't hate him for his blunder. And they were having lunch.

The only thing that still hadn't fallen into place was how he was going to deal with the massive crush he had on her.

Aww, aren't they cute? Reviews = love.