Chapter 2

Summary:

Poor Kelly. I can't write for her, probably because I get all JK Rowling about spelling out her every word phonetically.

Whatever did happen to ole Pete? Think the last we see of him is 2x1 with Lucy!Simon. Anyway, let's pretend your faves added him to their murder spree. Sorry, Pete.

Chapter Text

Two weeks later.

Sally hasn't come back to work.

Alisha's a little bit scared, although she wouldn't admit it.

There's no way Nathan could stay quiet if he'd done something; and Kelly's weapon of choice is the headbutt, which while painful (as Alisha's learned from personal experience) is probably not fatal, even on a twig like Sally. Curtis would have told her.

That just leaves Simon, and while she's warming to him, if for nothing else than the silent worship he bestows upon them all (even Curtis, who thinks he's too cool, is not entirely immune to blatant adoration and endless attention. Nathan is naturally in heaven.), she's aware that he's...a little off, to put it mildly.

Halfway through that week, they're taking a break, crammed onto a crappy picnic table trying to block the winds from battering their stupid suits. Even Curtis has zipped his up for once, and Alisha's cold enough that she's actually pulled her jacket over her head. She hasn't purposefully let her hair get fucked since she was 13. Not even when she's getting fucked.

Nathan's trying to shove his feet on Curtis' lap, his head on Kelly's shoulder, and his hands in Simon's pockets, insisting that Irish people are genetically predisposed to pneumonia and that as the only one without powers, they have a sacred duty to protect him for the rest of their lives. Only Simon's daft enough to fall for it, which is when Nathan pulls out a credit card from his pocket.

'Barry, are you just pleased to see me or is this a down payment? I've told you, my love is not for sale!'

'What the fook?'

Kelly's either read Simon's mind, or she can read upside down. Alisha doesn't want to be mean, especially because of the headbutting, but she's betting on the former.

'It's Tony's!'

'It's...it's not like it looks', Simon struggles. 'I took it from her office. I thought if they traced it and saw it'd been used after he disappeared, the police would stop looking.'

'You've had a credit card all this time, and I'm still living out of a vending machine? Fuck that!' exclaims Nathan, grabbing for it.

'It can't be used, they could trace it back to us. I bought a flight, that way they'll think he left Sally.'

Alisha really, really doesn't want to ask. But if she doesn't, she doesn't know what's worse - if someone else does. Or nobody does.

'Where is Sally?'

Simon looks a little stung. 'I don't know.'

'I didn't mean - '

'Maybe she went looking for him.'

'Sure.'

'Maybe the detective went with her.' Simon catches Alisha's eye. For just a second, but she shivers, and not because it's cold.

She's always got Nathan, she doesn't have to like him, and to be honest, mostly she doesn't, but gets him.

They compete sometimes, like siblings. She blows a bottle, he deep throats an ice cream. She gets her tits out, he does a roof striptease.
Sometimes it's fun, the two of them dossing around, dancing, dressing up, all eyes on them. He usually wins because he has lower standards - he doesn't care whether the attention's good or bad, whether people are sneering or leering. Alisha doesn't like to be laughed at.

She never thought she'd have anything in common with Simon, though, and she's not even sure if she does, but she recognises the look in his eyes when he spoke to her just now, and something in the tone.

Alisha's used to getting away with stuff. She's never had to make much effort, sometimes excuses just bubble over: 'Sorry I missed the exam, my nan's got cancer.'

'He kissed me, I didn't know he was your boyfriend!'

'Of course I paid for that, look at me, I don't need to steal your shitty lipstick!'

Some people respond to tears, some to pleas, some to a flirty smile and a throaty giggle, but almost everyone gives in the end. Curtis pushes her sometimes on stuff, but even he's pretty soft underneath.

Simon Bellamy is a terrible liar, and hasn't the charm to get away with shit; but on his face is Alisha sees that same look she's recognised in the mirror. The one that will lie to anyone, even the reflection, to do what you need to.

Alisha's pretty peaceful, and she doesn't plan to hurt anyone unless they're coming for her. She hopes she and Simon agree on that.