Thank you to all my dedicated reviewers whose continued patience I repeatedly test. I adore all your reviews, support, questions, and criticisms. I'm afraid that there are two decidedly different groups of reviewers that cause me to wage war with myself, those that want me to update quickly, and those that inspire me to write well. I'm afraid this chapter is a poor compromise.

A very special thanks to Calany, I'm now on someone's favorite Author's list. I think that was the highlight of my year.

Don't Lie to Me - 21

Denise was out cold, slumped against Peter's shoulder. Mohinder was concentrating on the road. Brighton was making a valiant effort to keep still; Deni had promised that he could throw a light switch rave once they reached their destination.

This left Claire with a dreary sense of déjà vu. She was once again riding along in a silent car, letting someone else control her destiny. The only significant difference was there was now a foot in her lap.

Peter noticed her apprehensive stillness and broke the silence. "Is this your first time in New York?"

"Yeah. I thought it would be a lot different. All the lights and glamour, you know?"

"It's there," said Peter, slipping off into his dream reality. "You just have to know where to look. There's actually a perfect spot on the roof of the place we're headed."

"Fucking Casanova," Brighton muttered from the front seat.

Both Peter and Claire turned to the disgruntled teen. "What did you say?" Claire demanded.

Brighton twisted in his seat so that he could face Claire as he spoke. "I'm just pointing out, that the guy's spouting off poetry while he has another woman draped in his lap."

"He was just being nice."

"Yeah right."

"Are you jealous?" Claire accused.

"As if! It's cramped enough up here, I wouldn't want to be squished between the two of you."

"Then what is your problem?!"

"My problem is Deni is like a sister to me, and this guy is practically feeling her up in the back seat!"

"I am not feeling her up," Peter defended.

"But you want to."

"Yes," Peter was as surprised as anyone by his answer. He quickly balled up his hands, maintaining only the minimum contact their seating arrangement required.

"Thought so," Brighton twisted again, and slumped down in his seat.

Mohinder who had been a reluctant audience to the exchange, finally added his two cents. "So much for the virtues of honesty."

XXXXX

"Miss Juarez?" the club owner pondered for a moment. "Oh, you must mean Cinnamon. She's on stage right now. Anything I should be worried about?"

"No," Detective Hanson assured. "We just need to ask her some questions."

Lawrence spotted her right away. Tina Juarez was a Hispanic woman in her early thirties. While uncharacteristically mature for a stripper she was indisputably erotic in her fringed negligee and curly auburn wig. Her performance appeared to have inspired a bidding war between a stocky trucker, and a skinny Asian tourist.

XXXXX

Peter had been doing his best not to associate emotions with the people he interacted with, but the exchange with Brighton had brought his thoughts inescapably to Deni, and his feelings towards her. He knew that he found her refreshing, and funny in her own blunt way. He admired her strength, and her candor. She'd made it clear that she liked him, but didn't push when he'd said he wasn't ready.

Ready for what? He could die in a matter of days. If there was anything left to live for it was here in this cab. Maybe it was still too soon, but he was never one to wait around when it came to his feelings.

His personal revelation was cut short as the vibrations in his head began to grow. Static was everywhere, he felt needle like pricks across the surface of his brain, and a pulsing at the base of his spine so intense it made him gasp.

"Peter?"

Claire's note concern jolted Brighton from his private grumblings. He looked up in the review mirror, then whipped about in his seat to get a better look. "Uh, Dude?" he said nudging Mohinder. "I think we need to pull over."

Mohinder looked over his shoulder, and was engrossed by the sight of Peter doubled over, clutching his head with one hand. "He's absorbing Denise's ability."

"Shit!" Brighton shouted before quickly grabbing the wheel. "When I said pull over I didn't mean into another car!"

Mohinder eventually navigated the car to safety. Brighton was out instantly helping Claire out of the car, Mohinder quickly followed, and helped Peter from the back seat.

"We need to get him away from a lot of people," Brighton said, taking one of Peter's arms. "How about that Art Gallery? That place looks dead."

"Maybe you should wait in the car."

Brighton gave Mohinder a scathing look. "Oh, of course you think it's all my fault." He tossed Peter's arm off him. Peter suddenly crumpled against Mohinder. "Fine! Take him. I'll stay here and baby-sit."

Mohinder bit back a sarcastic reply. He didn't know how much was the young man's natural attitude, and how much was Miss Haskell's influence, but arguing with Brighton wouldn't do Peter any good.

Sure enough, as Mohinder led Peter away, Peter showed dramatic improvement. Brighton looked surprised then turned to Claire. "Damn! What'd you do? Kill somebody?"

Claire responded by slugging Brighton in the shoulder.

"Oww!" Brighton rubbed his arm in an exaggerated manner. "You and Deni are gonna get along great… If she ever wakes up again."

The two teenagers tried to ignore each other but the silence was broken by the sound of Claire's stomach. "Great the five of us can't even endure a car ride together and I'm starving."

Brighton looked around. "I've still got some cash on me. Street meat ok with you?"

"Street meat?"

"It's what we call anything that comes off a street cart." Carefully he shook Deni's uninjured leg until she woke. "I'm grabbing some food, want some?"

"Yeah… Where is everyone?"

"Emo Dude started leeching off your Jedi mind tricks and did a mind meld with Goldy Locks, so Dr. Button up took him for a breather."

Claire gave Brighton another confused look, and asked Deni, "Did any of that make sense to you?"

"Unfortunately yes." She turned back to Brighton, "Do you have money?"

"Yeah, still have what you gave me earlier."

"Ok, take your time."

A meaningful glance passed between the two, and Brighton zipped off.

Claire flipped out. "What is going on? What happened to Peter?"

Deni scooted to the edge of the car seat, and stretched her neck. "Ok, I'm assuming you know what Peter can do."

"Yeah, he copies what other people can do."

"Ok, so how much do you know about what I can do?"

"Only that no one can lie around you?"

"It's actually a two parter, I can also feel everything deceptive a person has ever said or done."

"So if you were near someone who killed someone?"

"I'd have a fucking migraine, and I'm pretty close right now."

"I didn't-"

"I know… I hate asking personal questions so I'll make this as quick as possible. Have you ever hurt someone really bad, but for a very good reason?"

"…Brody Mitchum. He was the quarterback. We were at a pre game bonfire. I thought he liked me, until… until he tried to…"

"I got it. What'd you do to him?"

"I pretended I didn't remember anything, asked him for a ride home, and drove his truck into a wall."

"Wow!" Denise whispered while massaging her neck. "Yeah, that definitely falls into the category of justifiable revenge. Doesn't actually hurt, but it's an extremely intense vibration. Combine that with the rest of the fuzz floating around the car no wonder Peter freaked out."

"The fuzz?"

"No one's perfect. Trust me, perfect honesty leads to a shitty social life. Mohinder's no exception, and Brighton use to be quite the juvenile delinquent."

Claire scoffed. "And yet he was so self righteous when Mohinder hinted it was him."

"Well he is 19."

"So?"

"Most of your vibes fade away at 18."

"Why?"

"Hell I don't know for sure. I think it's because kids aren't fully aware of the consequences of their actions. Don't look at me like that. I think you're incredibly mature for your age, but personally, I would have castrated the bastard, not wrecked his car."

"Hotdogs ladies?" Brighton returned bearing steaming foot longs. He handed the first one to Deni which was decked in onions ketchup and mustard. Then he handed a plain hotdog to Claire, "Wasn't sure how you liked them, but I snagged a bag of condiments."

Everyone was happily gorging themselves on the greasy hotdogs when Deni's cell phone rang. Denise hastily pawed at her jacket pocket trying to get to her cell phone. "Finally!… wait? I don't recognize this number." Cautiously Deni opened her phone and put it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Denise Haskell?"

"Yes?"

"This is Mr. Bennett. We spoke about seven years ago about your brother?"

XXXXX

The next thing that Bennett heard was the sound of a delivery truck driving over the phone. He pulled his ear away from the loud, unorthodox disconnection.

"What happened?" Parkman asked.

"She threw the phone into traffic."

"She definitely remembers you then."

"At least we know she's still alive."

"But we have no idea where. I told you I should have called."

"It doesn't make sense. I visited her in the hospital. She thought I was a detective looking into her brother's disappearance."

Matt shrugged, "You sure about that? Do you even know what this woman's ability is?"

"No, Claude must have coached her well, she's kept completely off the radar."

"So we have nothing."

"No. I think she's in New York, and…"

"And what?"

Bennett didn't dare say it out loud. I swear I heard Claire's voice in the back ground.