A/N: This is based on scenes from next week's episode, so if you're not up to date and you don't want to know, don't read.
If it had been raining, which wouldn't have surprised him, this time of year, he'd have been speeding to work. He'd have left his apartment two minutes before he had to punch in for his shift. He'd have run all the way and hardly seen a damn thing he passed on his way.
But it wasn't raining; the weather was bright and sunny. And so he decided to walk to work. He was tired of everyone constantly telling him that he was avoiding life. Walking to work qualified as enjoying life, right? And three blocks from Mercy Heights, he was suddenly extremely glad that he had.
A woman stepped into the street, apparently totally unaware of the bus barreling down the center of the street. He had a split-second reaction time, and he was infinitely thankful he'd picked up that speed power the other day. He sprang into blurred motion, streaking across the street and snatching her out of the road seconds before the bus flashed through the place where she had been walking just an instant before.
She stumbled slightly from the unexpected stop when he stopped her. He caught her by the shoulders to stop her from falling, and she spun around.
With a shock, he realized that he'd met her before. It was the file clerk from the hospital, and the cellist from the park. It was obvious that she recognized him as well, from the way her eyes widened. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Didn't you... didn't you see the--?"
But her headphones were in again. He sighed, and she suddenly looked dejected. With slow, deliberate motions, she pulled them out of her ears. Then she shook her head. "I can't hear you," she said, in a slightly off voice. "I can't hear anything."
Suddenly, the whole picture became much, much clearer to Peter. Why she hadn't responded when he'd spoken to her that afternoon. Why she hadn't realized the bus was barreling down on her just now. But before he could say a thing, she spoke again. "How did you do that? I was--" She pointed at the center of the street. "And then--" She shrugged.
Peter silently thanked the six-week course he had taken when he got his nursing degree in sign language. I was just in the right place at the right time, he signed.
She raised an eyebrow. What's your name? she asked.
Peter.
Well Peter, I don't buy it. I'm deaf, not blind. You weren't anywhere near me. There wasn't anyone anywhere near me. How did you manage to pull me out of the way?
He ran a hand through his hair, delaying the time he would have to answer. He really had no idea what to tell her. The truth seemed like a bad idea, but what else was there to say? But he had hesitated too long, because she was watching him impatiently, hands planted on her hips and her hazel eyes were boring into his with a look of stubborn determination.
I've got some... things... I can do, he said.
Define things.
Peter looked away from him, staring across the road in an attempt to avoid her piercing gaze. It didn't work, though. He could feel her gaze on him, even when he wasn't looking at her. With a sigh, he signed, It changes sometimes, but today, I'm fast. Really fast. Lucky for you, I guess.
To his amazement, she didn't question it further. After one last, burning stare at his face, she nodded. Okay, she signed. I guess I'd better get to work. Don't want to be late.
She walked away, readjusting the position of her purse on her shoulder. He watched her go, momentarily frozen in place and completely thrown by her odd reaction. And then the thought slid into his head that it had been a long time since he'd had any kind of confidante. On a snap decision, he pursued her. "Wait!" he called, despite knowing that she couldn't hear him. Breaking into a run, he caught up to her and fell into step beside her.
What's your name? he asked.
"Emma," she replied.
Emma. Well, Emma, do you mind if I walk to work with you? he signed.
She flashed him a smile at him and shrugged. If you want, she replied.
They didn't speak again until they reached the hospital. Together they walked through the door, and they were about to go their separate ways when Emma reached out and touched his arm. He stopped dead in his tracks. Thanks, she signed. For saving me. She gave him a hesitant smile.
It was nothing, he said.
It was my life, she replied. That's not nothing.
His lips twitched upward in an echo of her own tentative smile, and he shrugged. I guess not. He paused, looking for the words to say what he wanted to ask, and in that moment Hesam sprinted by.
"Hey Peter! We've got a car accident on Fifty-third. Hurry up, man!" he called as he headed in the direction of the ambulance.
Peter grimaced. I've gotta go, he said. Duty calls.
She nodded. Can't keep your life-saving skills to myself, can I?
Just before she turned away, Peter signed, I'll see you around.
With an enigmatic smile, she turned and walked away, winding her way deeper into the hospital and out of his view. As he hurried to start his shift, Peter reflected on what had just passed between them. He was still distracted as Hesam pulled out of the bay. Mentally, he berated himself for his last words to Emma. It wasn't a good idea.
Dammit, after Caitlin he'd made the decision never to let himself be interested in any woman. It was just too dangerous, the kind of things that always seemed to happened to him. And he knew that no matter how hard he tried to stay out of it, eventually something would land in his lap and he didn't want anyone else to have to deal with the consequences. But he just couldn't get the morning's incident out of his head. It was strange and it made absolutely no sense and he didn't know what to make of it and... and... and Emma was enchanting. And Peter knew all too well that, no matter how hard he tried to deny it, he was in over his head already. It was a connection he hadn't looked for and hadn't particularly wanted until he had stumbled into it. But whatever he told himself now, he knew that first thing when he got off his shift, he was going to be heading up to the office of a certain blonde file clerk...
