His Heart

Angel POV

"Sorry I didn't say anything sooner about knowing how the Superior's… you know," he said, his voice low, making my breath catch in my chest. "I just-"

"Didn't know," I finished. My own voice sounded nothing like it usually did. I swallowed again. "I'm sorry I said I hated you."

"Really, really, really hated me," he corrected.

I smiled. "With about ten more 'really's."

He grinned, too. I felt my heart do little ballerina jumps and pirouettes, just like I used to love to do. I felt a strange urge to leap up and start pirouetting away right now, only it would be a bit weird. So instead, I cleared my throat. Which obviously sounded incredibly attractive.

I racked my brains for ideas on how to flirt - could you believe this? - and remembered fragments of information I had read in magazines, things I had heard from Nudge in passing. Ooh. Apparently compliments were a winner. I just had to praise something… and I was in. Meanwhile, I tried not to think about how pathetic I was.

"I.." I said. "I, um, thought you were great back there, killing the Superior. Well, at the time, I hated you for killing her, but you did it really well. You were… good."

Great. Now I was complimenting him on his ability to kill people, and saying that I had hated him because of it. Really great. What was I going to say next? Fitz, I lurrrrrrve you. No. Anything but that.

I suddenly noticed how strong his jaw looked, lined with a shadow of stubble. A million more pirouettes began.

"Er, thanks," he said.

Notice the 'er'? He thought I was a freak. Like everyone else. My life = O:-(

"You know," he said. I nodded, enraptured, expecting something that would make my heart race… again. I wasn't expecting anything close to what actually came out of his mouth, which was: "You look a heck of a lot like Anna."

It took me a second to figure out who 'Anna' was. Then I realized. And my heart didn't race.

He was in love with Anastasia. Anastasia! Which meant that, according to all those magazines, he was probably off-bounds. She said herself that she was never in love with him, because she was too in love with Subject Twenty-Seven, but that didn't stop him from being able to love her.

I thought about going through his mind. It was easy, and I'd get all the info I needed and wanted so bad that I felt like killing someone. I listened out for an Eraser, just in case. But I needed to respect his privacy.

Right. So I had easy info that would stop me from feeling like murdering someone against privacy. Guess which one won?

Feeling ridiculously guilty, I dove into his mind, looking for anything related to Anastasia. I selected a memory at random and went right in.


I'm in a small room, and I instantly recognize his old office, before his promotion. Anastasia, who looks about fourteen, is spinning on a chair, smiling coyly at me, Fitz, sitting at my desk. I look over at her and feel myself grin.

"So," says Anastasia. "How're things?"

My face falls. "Not great. Since Wally and Peter left, it's been hard work, y'know? Us three were working on the new software, but now it's just me."

"Wally?" she asks, cocking her head. Anastasia puts her feet up on the desk, opposite me. I'd forgotten how infuriating she used to be. "Wasn't he the one who stapled someone's head for kicks? Wait. Let me guess. Peter's head?"

I feel myself, in Fitz's body, nod. "Yup."

"Oh," she says. "OH."

"What?" I look up at her, and my cheeks feel a little hot. "Tell me, Anna."


Pet names, too. I - as in, I, Angel - was about to throw up.


"Nothing," she says teasingly.


Okay. This is just unfair leading on. And - wait a sec - she's only fourteen years old, give or take, even though for a human, she looks three years older. Fitz is what, seventeen, eighteen? That's just disgusting.

Maybe.


"Tell me," I say. "Please? Come on."

"Hmm," she says. "Sorry. I've forgotten."

I feel myself get up out of my seat and run towards her, laughing. I grab her seat, spin it around. She's in hysterics, too. Both of us are. I'm spinning her round and round and round… she reaches up and pushes me away. I stumble, grin. She sits there, the chair spinning slower now, laughing her freaking head off.

"Okay, okay," she says, laughing. "I'll tell you."

I grin. "I knew I'd get you to tell me. So? Where are they?"

She shrugs. "Eraser chow."

"Are you - WHAT?" I'm angry, now. "They've been killed? For what?"

"For not working," she replies. "Come on, Fitz. They were stapling each other's heads. How much more obvious can you get?"

"Anna," I say quietly, still fuming. "Sometimes I just don't understand you at all. And other times..."

"What?" she asks.

I look away. "Nothing..."


I drew away from the memory, reeling. It was obvious he liked her, what with all the blushing, and the trailing off at the end. They practically seemed like a couple, and Anastasia was flirting her head off. What happened to being too in love with Subject Twenty-Seven? Apparently not. Okay, I love her now and all, but I hate her old self. She was a right cow back then.

I selected another memory, this time a more recent one than before.


We're both standing, shoulders squared, glaring at each other. The tension in the room is WAY palpable. Yes. I know a word like palpable. It means touchable, like you could almost touch the tension in the room, it was so high. Go me.

Anyway.

"What's the deal with him, anyway?" I demand. "Subject whatever."

"His name," snaps Anastasia, "Is Subject Twenty-Seven."

"So?" I snort. "Like I care."


Oh. My. Freaking. God. They were arguing about Subject Twenty-Seven. My spirits dropped even further. He was so into her, I didn't stand a chance.


"The deal is that I'm in love with him," she snarls.

"You - you WHAT?" I thunder. "Anna, you're fifteen!"

"I'm sixteen in two months," she says. "And so what? Juliet was thirteen when she fell in love with Romeo."

"This - isn't - Shakespeare," I growl. "And Subject what's-his-name is evil. He's… he's killed, Anna. You know that? In cold blood, as well."

"I love him," she says, close to tears. "And you can't do anything about that."

"You don't love him," I say through gritted teeth.

Her glare is ice. "What gives you that impression?"

"You flirt with me all the time, for one!" I bellow. "I mean, what's that about?"

She flinches. "I do not."

"Do too," I say.

"What, are you… into me, or something?" she asks, uneasy.

"What, no," I say quickly. "No. I just don't want you with him. He's not just a jerk, he's evil. And he's… I know something about him."

"What?" she asks.

"I know… he doesn't love you back," he says at last. "And he doesn't deserve a girl like you."


I pulled away. I'd heard enough. It had taken me about five seconds to go through those two memories, and as I blinked back into reality, I realized he was staring back at me, as if waiting for an answer. Shoot. What was the question?

"Sorry?" I said.

"I said you looked a heck of a lot like Anna," he said, smiling.

I forced a smile. How could I have forgotten?

"Yeah," I said, looking away. "Well, we're 98% identical."


Sorry about the dividers -- hope it wasn't too confusing, and if it was, ask me and I'll just explain. For a while there my reviews stuck at six hundred and sixty six -- creepy?? I think so.

Hey. But don't get me wrong. I never thought I'd get anywhere close to this far, and I love you all for liking my story. Seriously, I do.

So anyway, thanks so much for always reviewing. You guys actually rock my world.