Invisible Man




Disclaimer: Hobbes is not mine. :( Neither is Darien or the Keep or Eberts or the Official or Arnaud de Föhn

Author's Note: The 'Invisible Man' up at the top ^ is supposed to be blinking, but I'm not sure if fanfiction.net'll let me. Ooo! While I was writing this, I found a good summary. And here it is! Claire breaks down and Darien helps her get straightened out. Will she tell a certain someone how she feels? (actually, I don't know yet, I have to finish this chapter, and when I do get done with this chapter, I won't feel like erasing this, so you'll just have to deal with loony me!) :]



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Hobbes grabbed the shirt tighter, making the cashier behind the counter even more nervous. "Now I'll ask you once again, who do you sell gold bullets to?!" Darien was messing around, turning things invisible like he was previously, leaving all the work to Bobby. He finally went over to Hobbes and watched.


The man licked his lips nervously and didn't reply. Hobbes tightened his grip even more, making the guy stand on his tip toes while he leaned over the counter. "If I tell you, he'll kill me." he said gulping.


"You do not want to see Bobby Hobbes mad my friend, believe me!"


"Hey hey," Darien said, before Bobby had finished his sentence. "Take it easy, come on." He made a gesture for Hobbes to let go of the cashier. Bobby looked at Fawkes before letting go. "There. Now, you mind telling us who this guy is?" Darien asked casually, leaning against the glass counter that held the guns and other weapons.


The man looked from Darien to Hobbes. "Look," Fawkes said. "If you tell us who this guy is, then we can catch him and you'll be safe. Truth of the matter is, he'll probably kill you anyway." Bobby rolled his eyes. "What?"


It seemed that the cashier got a tad bit braver while Darien was speaking, because the next thing that came out of his mouth was, "Why don't you slimeballs get out of my store and. . ." But he was cut short by Hobbes grabbing his shirt again. "Okay, okay. Ever heard of a guy named Arnaud de Föhn?"




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"I don't think I should have hit him, do you?" Darien asked Hobbes as he put his arms through the bars of their cell.


"No . . . no, I don't think you should have hit him either."


"Yeah, that's what I thought."


"Um hmm." Hobbes agreed.




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"Thanks Claire." said Darien as the police officer opened the cell door.


"That was the nastiest jail I've ever been in." replied Hobbes.


"You've been in jail before?" asked Darien.


"For your information I have, Mr. Thief. I'm sure you've had your share of overnights in a filthy place like that."


"Well, you just don't seem like the type of person who would . . .I don't know . . .break the law."


"I'm sorry guys, but can we get back to the main issue here?" asked Claire.


By now they had reached the van, and Claire was growing impatient. "Yeah." they said, turning around and looking at Claire.


"Thank you." she said, giving them a strange look. "Anyway, Darien, how on Earth did you get caught by the police?"


Hobbes answered, "See, we went in to interrogate this guy who was selling weapons to the assumed murderer, and Fawkes here decided to go ballistic on him when he mentioned Arnaud de Föhn's name."


"I see." she said, looking at Darien who just gave her a guilty look. "But why couldn't you have just . . .Quicksilvered?"


Darien lifted the sleeve of his jacket to allow Claire to see the almost red snake on his wrist. "I didn't think it would have been a very wise idea to Quicksilver and go mad."


"Good thinking, but . . .why are you almost out? I gave you a shot this morning."


"I . . .umm . . .I was messing around and . . .I kinda' turned some objects . . .invisible."


"Ah, and do you know how much money it takes The Agency to make that counteragent?"


"Umm . . .a lot?"


"Yes!"


"Uh oh." whispered Bobby to Fawkes. "She's pissed, you better watch out." and he turned his back and began to walk off in the opposite direction.


"Hold on Keep. Why are you so frustrated? You don't normally act like this." replied Fawkes.


"I don't know. I'm just confused." she said, rubbing her forehead. Darien began to notice that she did that a lot.


"Confused of what?" he asked.


She stopped rubbing her forehead and looked at him. "I'm sorry Darien, but that is really none of your business."


"Well, I thought you made it my business back there when you gave me my shot!" he said, raising his voice a little.


Claire sat on the bumper of the van. Darien did the same. "I'm sorry Darien." she said. "I didn't mean to snap."


"I've heard that people snap less if they talk about it." he said, coaxing her to tell him.


"No Darien. It's too embarrassing." she said, shaking her head. He gave her a look. "Well, I feel . . .alone." she said, looking at Darien, not knowing what kind of reaction he would have.


"Alone, gottcha'."


"And . . .this is too embarrassing!" she said getting up. But Fawkes grabbed her wrist and forced her to sit down.


"And?" he asked.


Darien saw tears rolling down her face. "I feel like I really am invisible." she sniffled.


"Are you trying to tell me you need a hug?" he asked grinning, trying to make her laugh.


She nodded. He reached over and hugged her. "Thanks Darien." she replied. "I needed that. I think I'm going to go."


"Hey, wait Claire."


"Yes?"


"I got one more question for you."


"What is it?"


"Do you like Bobby?" he asked grinning.


"What?" she asked, not believing that he had just asked her that question.


"Do you like Bobby?" he repeated.


"Again, I'm afraid that is none of your business. Now, I'm glad you helped me and all Mr. Fawkes, but I will not let you be involved in my personal life! Even though you've weaved your way in a little." she added.


"You do don't you?" he asked with a grin.


"I will not comply to that answer." she said, turning her heel and walking towards her own car.


"I won't comply. I won't comply." he said, mimicking her accent and turning back to the van.


Bobby returned with a hotdog in his hand. "Where'd Claire go?" he asked.


"She went home." Darien replied.


"Ok." Hobbes took a bite of his hotdog.


Fawkes stared at the hot. "Why didn't you get me one?" he asked.


Hobbes looked up at Darien. "I ate it."


"You ate my hotdog?"


"I was hungry." Darien stared at Hobbes. "You want mine?" he asked, holding the hotdog up to him.


Darien waved it away. "Well, do you want it?"


"It's half eaten!" he said as they got into the van.


"Well, I'm just saying, if you want it take it."


"I don't want it!"


"Fine, fine. You don't have to get so grouchy."


"I'm not getting grouchy . . ." And the argument continued as they drove away.