A/N: Darn it, I've been writing this and reading Matt/Mo fics for the last two days. Talk about inspiration. I am almost giddy at this wonderful ship. Gah, I actually have scenes for future chapters written out, that how damn excited I am about this. And plot bunnies for other stories! I could start a Linderman-ish collection.
Save me.
-snort-
Save the authoress. Save the story.
Thanks to everyone for the wonderful reviews and for the hints on where to find the best Matt/Mo stories.
Pieces of Me
Chapter Two: Moving In
The seven day deadline had obviously given Mohinder Suresh a chance to shop and spruce up his place. Still, Matt liked the space; it was comfy but not in that too small way that had you bending over to put something in the oven and accidentally knocking over the beer you had on the coffee table with your ass.
Everyone had there own room, although the professor's was more like a study with a bed put in so that he could stumble from his laptop and collapse into a semi-coma, and the kitchen corner was small enough to give them some room for a half-decent table.
It was a bit obvious that things had been switched up by the way there were no signs of a ten-year-old on the floor and how the furniture had been rearranged to give Matt a clear path from his bedroom to the bathroom and couch. There was a pretty sturdy looking table/dresser/wooden thing in the hallway- as a rest stop or something he guessed- and what looked to be a very squishy lazy boy in front of the TV.
In the middle of it all was The Couch.
A brand spanking new couch.
The cop, tired from the whole song and dance of getting released, stopped in his tracks and just stared at the reddish-rust colored fabric.
Molly followed his gaze and rolled her eyes.
"Mohinder got rid of the old one. Said it was no good or something."
The tall Indian man sighed and wrinkled his nose slightly. "It had stains."
"I didn't see any stains." Their charge said innocence practically seeping from her skin.
"It smelt funny."
Molly looked thoughtful. "It kinda smelt like cooking stuff. You know, spices."
Mohinder frowned at Molly's way of teasing. "I just didn't like it. Besides, isn't this one much more comfortable?"
Matt eased his way through his new room mates. "I wouldn't care if it was pink and purple polka-dotted- it's a couch."
The professor grinned widely. "Now there's a sensible man."
The compliment filled him with a strange sort of warmth; it had been a long time since someone had said something nice about Matt Parkman. When Janice hadn't yelled about her disappointment with him she sure had thought about it. Loudly.
Mohinder wandered off down the hall, carrying the two suitcases of clothing his new room mate's ex-wife had been kind enough to bring. It filled him with a cold fury, although he kept it very deep with his mind, when he thought about that….that woman.
Molly settled down on the couch, her legs crossed and her chin resting in her hands. Matt picked up the remote to the TV and cocked his head to the side for second before tuning into Channel 07 just in time to catch the last straining notes of The Simpsons theme song.
"Whoa…." She whispered in awe. "I was just thinking about asking if you wanted to watch this."
The cop smirked slightly. "I know."
Molly grinned back before gently snuggling up to her hero's side.
'He is so cool!'
The thought was simply too loud to ignore, making the telepath feel that warm happiness again. Twice in one day- hadn't they stopped the morphine a few days ago?
Mohinder came out of the hallway just in time to see Homer Simpson throttling his only son.
"Dear God, what is that man doing?"
The two couch potatoes sent him a disbelieving look before quickly turning back to the TV.
'Well that was a stupid question, Suresh.'
"Ah, Homer is always choking Bart- you get used to it after a while." Matt replied without thinking, making the professor start.
A few startled blinks passed without a response before….
"That's amazing!"
"Huh?" The cop hummed.
"What?" Molly asked, distracted.
Mohinder made to speak, his mouth opening and closing before he caught the glazed expression of someone trapped in the bliss of the television lights on both of their faces.
"Never mind. I'll just make dinner." He said with a small smile. They were bonding already. Over cartoon child abuse. Wasn't the world wonderful? Mohinder had decided long ago, that all the people on his father's list were decidedly peculiar and not because they could read minds or fly.
A double-episode of The Simpsons was just long enough for the mouth-watering scent of hamburgers to fill the air, just masking the smell of baked potatoes. As the closing credits began to roll the rumbling of stomachs could be heard all the way across the apartment.
Molly bounced up from her seat and followed the scents to her other guardian's side. "Mm, that smells so good!"
"It smells like Black Angus hamburgers." Matt called from the living room, before easing up and shuffling towards the kitchen. "Anything we can do to help?"
"Set the table please. Then take your medication and relax. You're supposed to be healing, not doing housework."
Molly nodded, creating a united front. "Just hand me the plates and glasses and park it mister."
Outnumbered, Matt raised his hands in the air- the universal surrender sign- and did as he was told. All the dishes had been moved down on the lower shelves, making it easier for the injured cop to reach them without straining himself.
Proudly, Molly set the table for three this time, straightening and re-straightening the forks and knives again and again. 'Our first meal together should be perfect.'
"Pills Parkman." Came the reminder as their cook started to pile the hamburger patties onto a plate.
Matt ambled over to the counter and picked up one of the pill bottles, suddenly filled with a sense of dread. The clear orange bottle was covered with a large white label and a jumble of multicolored strips filled with instructions and reminders.
Only to him, the words and numbers looked like a bunch of gibberish.
'Damn dyslexia. Now how am I supposed to figure this out without doing something stupid, like overdosing?'
"Is there a problem?"
Mohinder's soothing voice cut through Matt's confusion and frustration like a hot knife through butter. Dark blue eyes glanced up before lowering in shame.
"I- I can't read the labels- or anything else- that well." A dark frown marred his face. "Stupid dyslexia."
The Indian man blinked once in obvious surprise before nodding. He rubbed his hands together briefly. "Alright. This shouldn't be a problem. Here, give me those."
Anger flitted across his features, held in check by Molly's presence. "I don't need your pity."
Mohinder snorted. "I'm a teacher- a professor. I've had to deal with my fair share of students with learning disabilities. It's just a matter of making the information fit into your perception of it."
"English, maybe?"
'I have a British accent how can I be anymore Engli- oh he wants it simplified.'
"It's like taking the information, in this case the instructions on the pill bottle, and tweaking it, to change it into something both of us will understand."
"Like our very own special code?" Molly asked, excitement lighting up her face.
Mohinder nodded his eyes still on her hero. There was no pity or disgust or even that annoyingly smug I-am-so-much-better-than-you-so-nyah look some of the guys on the force got when they talked about Matt's problem. Just a simple desire to be helpful. Honest to God kindness.
Curious, Matt put the bottle into the still outstretched hand and watched as the professor rummaged through the drawer on the end of the countertop. A black permanent marker was used to write one large number on the cover of each pill bottle.
"There." He held up the first one. "This is the number of pills you need to take each time. All of them call for a dose twice a day, so you can start here tonight. Tomorrow, we'll go to the pharmacy and see about getting you one of those pill cases."
Matt nodded and took the bottles back. That had been…..easy. No ridicule, no pity and best of all, simple acceptance and help. No one, not Janice and sure as hell not the LAPD had been willing to work with him and his disability. It was…nice.
That warm feeling returned as Matt sat down to dinner and Molly looked up and said "My friend Billy had ADD. He was pretty cool."
"Now that would have been kinda cool to have." Matt grumbled taking a peek into his little girl's mind. "Figures I'd get the stupid one."
Molly surged forward. "But you're special, Officer- Matt! You're my hero, you're not stupid."
A hamburger, just waiting to be covered in toppings, was set down on his plate by a dark skinned hand. "You should listen to our girl- she's a smart one."
Our girl….
Such a simple phrase lifted the dark cloud that had been hovering over the cop vanished.
Problem solved.
Matt was drowning his potato in butter when Molly tried to speak around her hamburger.
"When am I goin' to sch-kool?"
Both men froze before immediately catching each other's eyes. They let the show of bad manners slip in the view of bigger problems. Mohinder's worried thoughts of 'God she's bored with us already?' and 'Goodness she does need to go to school.' matched Matt's completely.
"Um, there's about….what nearly three months left to the year?" he asked, unsure of when school closed down for the summer in New York. "That's not very much time to catch up…" He knew from experience that school was hard work and she was just getting better.
Molly rolled her eyes. "You know I didn't just sit in a room and play all day- I did learn math and science and history. No gym classes though. That's my favorite."
Mohinder tapped on his plate lightly with his fork, his face thoughtful. "I suppose we could enroll you for the rest of the year….you'd have to be tested, of course. Are you up to that?"
She nodded brightly. "I'm good. I'm all better now and with your help I could do it easy." She turned to her hero. "You'll help too, right Matt?"
Gah, they were in so much trouble if neither one of them could say no to this child. The cop shrugged. "Sure thing, though I probably won't be much help."
Mohinder chuckled. "She just said her favorite subject is gym and we all know I'm more of a scholarly type. You'll be plenty of help."
Matt snorted, the sound not negative but full of amused happiness. He wouldn't argue with a tried and true scientist and his little girl. Well, he could, but he probably wouldn't win.
Settling into bed that night, he reflected on Molly's nervous thoughts and smiled secretly to himself. While the apartment wasn't a penthouse, and the meal had been fried, previously frozen hamburgers and baked potatoes, the night really had been…..perfect.
A/N: Just a note about the S2 finale last night- Matt and Nathan are officially my best friend ship on here. "Let's never speak of this again." –DIES-
S. Tangerine