Chapter VIII (II): Tell me who I am!
Killgrave stares at the stranger so totally speechless that he can't even think of ordering him. And on top of that, Peter is rushing towards him in a fury.
"Fucking stop immediately whatever you're doing at this table! You're fucking cheating these naive bunch of idiots and you owe me an explanation, you fucking psychotic!" the illusionist snaps.
"Since when do you give orders to me? What's wrong, anyway?" Kevin stares puzzled at him.
"Oohh the sexy baby has such a temper!" one of the patrons at the table chuckles and whistles in approval.
"She might not talk posh but… look at her ass!" the second one appreciates, in his own his rude way.
"Too bad that the hottie seems to like Chocolate, maybe it's only for the money." says the third one.
"Did you figure out what I'm talking about, finally? What the fuck did you to do me?" Peter goes on snapping, before making a pause. "Wait a minute. Chocolate?"
"And you are a sexy baby? I'm confident you can realise on your own that we're both having a problem here and I'm not the one to blame."
Peter bites his lip and nods.
"First thing first, let's try to make things a bit clearer," Kevin decides, turning to the players at the table. "Tell me who I am!" he orders.
"You're the son of bitch who cleaned us out tonight!" the man next to him accuses the charmer.
"Damn right, I didn't understand yet how the hell you did it, but I'm sure you cheated!" the other one snarls.
While the players are busy chatting, Peter takes advantage of it to sit on Killgrave's lap. After all, in that moment he looks like a woman to everyone else's eyes so he can act like that. This simple gesture triggers different reactions. Kevin, without even realising that, holds Peter tighter letting one of his hands caressing his upper thigh, drawing little circles.
The four players glare at them, both disappointed and envious. Peter smirks, amused.
"No, okay, this is not what I meant," the persuader grumbles, mostly to himself.
He's strangely pleased by the perfection of Peter's ass now resting on his lap.
"Tell me how I look like." he reformulates his request, noticing how Peter is enjoying that situation.
- Oh, bloody hell!- he curses
"You are an Afro Caribbean guy, around thirty years old or maybe younger." says the first player.
"Quite tall. Athletic figure. Black, curly, messy, hair. Black eyes. A little beard…" says the second.
- But this is like Jessica's neighbour, the Junkie! Why do I look like him?- Kevin wonders, before investigating also about Peter. "Now tell me how the person I'm holding on my lap looks to you." he precisely orders, feeling a bit possessive over Peter.
The vampire hunter is taking full advantage of the situation, moving further against Kevin's groin.
- Oh bloody, hell, this is turning me on. This can't turn me bloody on! - the charmer grows alarmed, stopping Peter by holding his leg tighter.
This time it is the third player, the one who speaks.
"She's such a hot brunette. Latin American girl, probably Mexican. Tall, sexy curves, she can't be older than twenty-five…"
"Oh, great, I'm Ginger!" Peter figures out, while he secretly enjoys the sudden hardness he can feel beneath him, poking between his buttocks.
"Who is Ginger?" Kevin asks him, his hand over Peter's belly.
Even the charmer is enjoying the weird situation.
"She's the assistant for my magic shows, one of my dearest friends. My occasional lover, too." Peter explains, drawing out of his very tight pocket his mobile, in order to show Kevin some pictures of her.
As Kevin watches them, in his mind the previous image of the threesome powerfully pops out, now turned into a foursome, enriched by this new sexy element.
He was sure he would have imagined himself and Jessica entwined as they watched Peter and Ginger getting busy, or himself, Jessica and Ginger having sex toghether while Peter watched them, pleasuring himself… instead his mind insists projecting images of Jessica and Ginger kissing each other, taking off clothes, as Kevin and Peter have wild, wild sex.
- I'll be damned. Why do I think that this would be my most exciting sexcapade… why?- he asks himself, too afraid to find the answer, before speaking again. Because going down that thought process would only lead to a harder situation.
"C'mon, get up let's go searching for Barty!" he orders.
He can't resist that position any longer, he's about to betray himself and his sexual instincts.
Lucky for him, Peter obeys, as always. A few minutes after, Peter tugs Kevin's jacket, since he has found where Barty is.
"You fucking psycho kinky wizard!" Peter snaps, rushing towards him, dragging Kevin with him.
"If you two are not watermelons, you're utterly useless to me!" Barty replies, sort of dazed, unable to tear his eyes off the slot machine reels that roll unflappable. "No, please, not again those bloody lemons!" he curses, losing once more.
"I'll turn you into a stupid watermelon if you don't tell us what the fuck you've done to us!" Peter insists, placing a hand on the lever, once the wizard has inserted the coin.
"Just dare to lower it and I promise that would be the last thing you'll ever do!" Barty growls, with a tone and a murderous look that does sound like a threat.
"Peter won't lower it," Kevin indirectly obliges Peter, both because he doesn't want to draw attention and, although he'll never admit, he still needs the illusionist. "But could you please explain to us why we have certain features to everyone else's eyes?" he turns to the Dark Wizard in a more polite way.
Maybe, also thanks to their perfect complicity, Barty starts his explanation.
"I wanted to have specific features, but to do so I had to apply a rule to my spell, because it couldn't work just on me, it had to work with everyone else involved."
"A rule?" Peter repeats, narrowing his eyes.
"Yes, I've set my spell to make everyone look like someone who had an important role in their lives. I look like Tom Riddle, my First Dark Lord's human identity, before becoming the Legend he is" he sneers, proudly. "So, I have no idea what you look like, but the spell did the same thing to you, too… my Second Dark Lord hasn't revealed yet to me how he looks." he snorts.
"Oh. So it makes sense if I look like Ginger. Despite all our fights, she has always believed in me, since the very first magic show." Peter smiles.
"The Junkie. Well, after all he allowed me to get closer to Jessica. First, he took pictures of her for me, countless ones…. right before she replaced him for the job." Kevin replies, with a huge grin.
"So you ask people to send their pictures to you? What kind of kinky, sick psycho are you?" Peter grimaces.
"Tonight, before going to sleep, you'll send me a picture of you." Kevin winks at him.
"You bet I will!" Peter nods, probably with too much excitement.
"I wish I could have a picture of my Second Dark Lord!" Barty sighs.
The Doctor ended his conversation with Wilfred's lookalike and headed towards the bar area.
His only purpose right now is to drink something strong enough to make him forget that discussion about his and Barty's feelings.
It's not easy, but he just wants to try not to think, especially not to think that, once the mission is finished, he'll be alone again, as alone as maybe he had ever felt yet. His companions are filling the TARDIS with voices and happiness, he doesn't want them to go.
He doesn't want Barty to go. That's why he fills another glass and empties it in one shot.
He must not think of Barty. He ordered a whole bottle directly. Of what? He doesn't even recall, he just wants it to have some effect, but it doesn't seem to work very well. His damn alien body doesn't allow him to get drunk properly.
He smiles, staring at his glass.
- I'm drinking like Peter. I wish he was there, too, we could drown our sorrows together. - he muses, drinking another glass of that amber liquor… whatever it is.
- What if Wilfred was right? What if Barty felt the same? Maybe he does, it would be so cool if he… -
He stops his thoughts, he stops his drinking, glancing in the direction of the slot machines Those three seem to be up for something naughty, especially his beloved Death Eater does. The Doctor sees near the counter something that might suit and grabs it, before leaving.
When he reaches his companions, it seems that they were waiting just for him.
"Doctor, I know for sure our man is coming here, one of the owners of this place's friends told me so." Peter informs him.
"Great. We just have to wait for him." the Time Lord nods.
"And I do know what to do in the meantime." Barty replies, inserting another coin and lowering the lever.
"I guess the waiting is over." Kevin informs everyone.
He saw something, or rather someone, interesting, at the entrance.
Someone wearing a similar face to theirs but younger, even than Barty or the Doctor. A clean-shaved face that makes him charming, a messy fringe and a determined attitude flows about him as he enters, his long black coat floating behind him almost as if it was a cape.
After all, he does feel like a superhero, come to defeat the villains.
"Alright. Follow me, but let me be the one who speaks." the Doctor takes control and even the one who knows a thing or two about control doesn't have anything to say against that.
Peter confines himself only to nodding, but Barty is the only one who doesn't say anything about it, too engrossed in his playing.
"Barty, let's go!" the Doctor repeats, sliding closer to him, quickly.
"No!" the Dark Wizard protests.
At first, the Doctor is shocked by his answer, he would like Wilfred's lookalike to be there to tell him: 'See? He doesn't like me!'.
But there's no time for his thoughts, he just has to act.
"Peter, Kevin, help me to catch him!" the Time Lord rolls his eyes.
Barty turns furiously towards the two Muggles, his hand already in his pocket.
"Stay back, otherwise…" the Death Eater glares at them, threatening.
"Or what? Are you going to turn us into soups of vegetables?" Peter scoffs.
That's when Barty realises he's not holding his trusted wand, but a stick of celery.
"I suppose you're looking for this, am I right, my darling?" the Doctor smirks.
He managed to replace it, without the wizard even noticing that.
"You know, the aspect your spell gave me gave me the idea and I noticed the bar had the right thing to help me with this replacement." he proudly explains his perfectly accomplished little plan. "Don't worry, you'll get it back, but only once we're back to the TARDIS." he reassures him.
Peter and Kevin can finally act undisturbed, lifting the Pureblood wizard up in order to take him away, while the Death Eater protests, holding on tight to the slot machine.
"No, I don't want to. Leave me alone, I'm still waiting for the right combo!"
It's an indecorous show, but after all that Arcade has seen worse scenarios. That scene has drawn the young detective's attention to them.
He stops annoying Ripley, just to walk towards that peculiar quartet.
"What's going on here? Who are you? What's this mess?" he asks, glancing at them suspiciously, as Kevin and Peter manage to take Barty off the slot machine, bringing him to the Doctor.
And the Doctor finally speaks.
"D.I. Peter Carlisle, right?" he asks him, without even waiting for an answer.
The detective narrows his eyes at that weird blond guy with a stick of celery in the pocket of his jacket. He's even more suspicious than before.
"I have some precious info about the murder case you're working on," he informs him, showin him the young guy with a very dark epession, the sexy girl and the stunning AfroAmerican guy. "And they are the key witnesses." he adds.
Now he has the detective's full attention.
"But it is too crowded here. What about talking about in front of a cake?" the smart Time Lord plants the bait and the naive detective bites.
All the five people walk along the dock, but Peter Carlisle grows suspicious when he sees the blond stopping in front of an odd blue phone box.
"The Pastry shop is on the other way!" he points out, a little bit confused.
Without minding his words, the Time Lord opens the doors and Barty pushes the new guest inside it, not very kindly, followed by the other two, with Kevin who closes the doors.
The young detective doesn't know what shocks him the most: the fact that once they're inside it everything is bigger than he expected or the fact that the previous quartet now looks different, disquietingly different.
"What the hell?" he grumbles, getting up.
"Forgive me, Peter Carlisle, I've lied before: I don't know anything about the murder case, they're not key witnesses… but I really have cake!"
Someone who looks exactly like him is talking and smiling to him with complicity.
And he's not the only one.
Inside that absurd phone box that's bigger inside there are three other people who, more or less, are exactly like him.
He doesn't know anything about them, he doesn't even know the reason why he's there.
And apparently there is a cake.
D. I. Peter Carlisle is a young man of integrity with ideals and a great sense of priorities.
"Is there a cake? Really?" he asks them with expectations.
TBC
Notes:It took a veeeery long chapter, but here's Peter Carlisle, finally ^^
First impressions? XD
What about the other four? ;)