Title: Shiver 3/? (I really have no clue…. ^_^)
Author: Anna Maxwell
Disclaimer: They still aren't mine. Aw, crap.
"What do you mean you don't own one?" Hobbes asked the woman standing at the door.
The woman re-balanced the baby at her hip, and shouted something inside to another child. "Look, Officer, Detective, Agent, whatever you are, does it look like we could afford one of those things? I have a teenage son who would sell his soul to look inside one, much less own one." She said.
Darien stepped forward. "But it says here that this car was stolen from this address four days ago by an unseen thief."
The lady shook her head. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but you have the wrong address. That car's monthly gas bill probably costs more than our rent. You must have a faulty record." A crash sounded from within her home. "If you'll excuse me." She shut the door in their faces.
Hobbes and Fawkes looked at each other.
"Well I told you it didn't look like much." Darien said.
"I just went with what you told me was on the file. You're the one that double checked it." Hobbes replied.
"I guess Eberts made a mistake in putting the file together."
They paused and glanced at each other again. "Nah."
The two agents trooped back to the van. Darien slid in and slouched in his seat, looking at the pictures in the file. Hobbes sat next to him, trying to concentrate.
"So what next?" Fawkes asked.
"I say we check out the rest of the addresses, then head back to the agency if we don't find anything." Hobbes said.
"We'll have to look for Arnaud if we don't find anything." Fawkes murmured.
Bobby looked at him. "Don't go getting any big ideas, my friend. That could be a long way off."
Darien sighed. "I know. You think he's playing a game or something? Like he'll jump out and surprise us with a 'got you two stupid agents' and have all five cars sitting at the agency when we get back?"
"I doubt it. He wouldn't put that much effort into making a joke. Into making yours or both of our lives miserable maybe, but not just for a gag." Bobby said.
"Let's get moving then. There's a horror flick on TV tonight." Darien said.
"Horror flick? You don't get enough of that at work everyday?"
The other three cars on the list, a Prowler, a custom Mercedes, and a Ferrari, all had the same results. None of the people at the addresses given in the file had ever owned cars like that, and probably never would. Defeated and disgusted, the partners headed back towards the agency.
"It doesn't make any sense. One goof up from Eberts would be understandable; he is human. But to screw up on four addresses?" Bobby groaned.
"I don't know, man. I think there's something else going on here. None of those people had any idea what we were talking about. That one lady didn't even know what a Prowler was." Darien said.
"The only one who was legitimate was R.J Wilson." Bobby mused.
"Did you get weird vibes off that Elaine woman when we were there?" Darien asked.
Hobbes smirked. "Just because one woman doesn't woo at your amazing charms doesn't mean she's got something wrong up there." He tapped the front of his head.
"Speak for yourself." Fawkes replied. "And that's not what I meant. She just gave me a funny feeling."
"Kind of like R.J herself. You wonder how she made that stack of cash."
"Exactly."
"You think we're being set up." Bobby said, rubbing his arm absently.
"I don't know. What do you think?" Darien asked.
"I think we should have a chat with the boss about sending us on a goose chase, that's what I think. If he really didn't know about it, then we play on your theory. But it would be hard to play that kind of game with the government." Bobby said.
"You put way to much faith in the government." Darien said under his breath.
Bobby heard him, but ignored the statement. It wasn't so much that he didn't want to retort, but the edges of his vision were getting a little bit hazy and blurry. He shook his head to clear it of the sensation, only to have it worsen to blurriness. Maybe you could even call it frostiness along the sides of his eyes.
Darien was didn't notice the lack of response, but he did notice when the van swayed dangerously towards the other lane. "You might want to watch it there, Hobbesey. The other drivers might want some of the road too."
Bobby gritted his teeth and squinted his eyes to see better. The cramping that had accompanied the onslaught of his arm was pushing against his eyes. He remembered that was how Darien described Quicksilver madness to him. A subtle terror that clawed it's way to the foreground.
"Hobbes, man, you're leaning a little bit to far to the left here." Darien said. This was beginning to make him nervous.
"Shut up, Fawkes, I'm aware of this," Hobbes growled.
"Hobbes," Darien said cautiously. A car blared its horn behind them. "I think they want to know if your going to change lanes or not." He offered.
"I don't." Hobbes muttered. He could feel his irises begin to contract. He mumbled something Darien didn't hear. "Can you drive over me?"
Darien blinked. "Drive over you?"
"You may have to take the wheel." Bobby explained calmly. He was proud, but he wasn't stubborn enough to put his partners life on the line for it.
"What's wrong?" Fawkes demanded.
"I'm losing my vision." Bobby said.
Fawkes gaped at him. "Now you're telling me?"
"Better late than never."
"Did I ever tell you how much I hate clichés?" Darien muttered.
As soon as the statement was out of his mouth, Bobby lost all of his sight. "Fawkes!" he gasped.
Darien lunged over and grabbed the wheel. "Hobbes!" he shouted.
"There's nothing I can do!" he replied desperately. He squeezed his eyes shut to fight off the attack. The last one had gone away quickly.
Darien swerved through an open line of traffic and into a parking lot. "Hit the break, hit the break!"
Automatically Hobbes jabbed his foot out and the vehicle came to an abrupt halt, nearly throwing Darien through the windshield. Darien slumped between the seats and took several deep breaths. Quicksilver flaked off his body where patches of it had disappeared during the unscheduled adrenaline rush. Bobby kept his eyes closed and reached out a hand. It made solid contact with Darien's shoulder and he squeezed it.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
"Oh, yeah, Just dandy. You going to tell me what that was about or are you going to wait until we actually crash?"
Bobby cringed and put his hands over his face. He lowered them and carefully opened his eyes. Crystal clear vision. He bit his lower lip and leaned back in the seat. "I'm going crazy." he said softly.
"I highly doubt it. We reached that plateau a long time ago." Fawkes replied. "Now, what was that about?"
Hobbes shook his head. "I don't know."
"Forgive me if I don't believe you."
"You're forgiven. I still don't know."
"Hobbes…"
"Look, if I knew, don't you think I'd be telling you right about now?"
"Something had to happen back there. You've been acting weird all day. You don't generally have cramps, and I think I would have noticed if you'd lost your sight while driving before."
Bobby looked at him. "I don't know, Fawkes. My eyes just went blurry then poof. I couldn't see anything. It's not like I'm doing this on purpose."
Darien sighed. "Will you talk to Claire?"
"What for?"
"You know what for." Darien snapped.
Bobby started to protest but stopped himself. He thought of all the people he could have killed if Darien hadn't been in the van to grab the wheel. He could have caused a major wreck. Or he could have killed his partner or himself if he hadn't said anything. He sighed and looked at Golda's ceiling. "Okay. I don't know what I'm gong to tell her."
Fawkes didn't say anything. Inwardly, he was afraid that Bobby really was going crazy. Maybe he was having a psychosomatic attack. Too many pills and it wasn't the right solution. But if Hobbes went crazy, where would that leave Darien?
"Switch seats with me. I'm driving." He finally said.
Bobby nodded slowly and got out of the van. He walked around to the other side and got in as Darien took the drivers seat. He felt as comfortable sitting in the driver's seat of the van as he did getting his weekly injection. The rest of the ride to the agency was silent.
They didn't say anything going into the agency, either. Neither one of them could remember a time where they hadn't said anything to each other for so long. But neither one of them could think of anything to break it. They eventually came to an awkward halt in front of the Official's office.
Darien shifted uncomfortably. "I'll go talk to the boss, and you go talk to Claire."
"Sure." Bobby agreed.
"Yeah. I'll…I'll meet you back here."
"Okay." Bobby headed down the hall to the elevator.
Darien watched him until he got there, and with a sigh knocked on the Official's door. He disappeared inside at the given 'enter'.
After he heard the door shut, Bobby turned as he waited for the elevator. "I wasn't born yesterday, kid." He said softly to himself. "Nobody's going to want an unreliable partner." The elevator dinged its arrival.
Darien flopped into his usual chair. "Four out of five of them are bogus."
The official glared at him. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that the people living at the places you gave us don't own the cars." Darien said.
"That's impossible. Those are the addresses the police gave us." Eberts objected.
"I'm telling you that they aren't real. Hobbes and I checked every one of them and only one, R.J. Wilson, admitted to having one of those cars stolen."
"Are you sure you got the right addresses with the right car?" Eberts asked.
Darien glared at him. "We aren't completely inept. We can read addresses off a page."
"This is ridiculous. There's an explanation for this." The Official cut in.
"We were hoping that there was." Fawkes said.
"Speaking of we, where is your partner?"
"He's talking to Claire."
"Why?"
"Small medical mishap. Nothing major."
"With the two of you a paper-cut becomes the plague. How not major is nothing major?" The Official asked suspiciously.
"Um…He…kind of blanked out. On the road." Darien said, trying to play it down.
"He did what?" The tone indicated more disbelief than not understanding.
"He lost his sight momentarily. It came back. Like I said, nothing major. About the addresses?" Darien asked. He was hoping he looked nonchalant. Or at least somewhat innocent.
The Official glared at him. "It better be nothing. I can't have an agent working on this case who could spaz out at any moment."
Darien chose not to comment.
Author: Anna Maxwell
Disclaimer: They still aren't mine. Aw, crap.
"What do you mean you don't own one?" Hobbes asked the woman standing at the door.
The woman re-balanced the baby at her hip, and shouted something inside to another child. "Look, Officer, Detective, Agent, whatever you are, does it look like we could afford one of those things? I have a teenage son who would sell his soul to look inside one, much less own one." She said.
Darien stepped forward. "But it says here that this car was stolen from this address four days ago by an unseen thief."
The lady shook her head. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but you have the wrong address. That car's monthly gas bill probably costs more than our rent. You must have a faulty record." A crash sounded from within her home. "If you'll excuse me." She shut the door in their faces.
Hobbes and Fawkes looked at each other.
"Well I told you it didn't look like much." Darien said.
"I just went with what you told me was on the file. You're the one that double checked it." Hobbes replied.
"I guess Eberts made a mistake in putting the file together."
They paused and glanced at each other again. "Nah."
The two agents trooped back to the van. Darien slid in and slouched in his seat, looking at the pictures in the file. Hobbes sat next to him, trying to concentrate.
"So what next?" Fawkes asked.
"I say we check out the rest of the addresses, then head back to the agency if we don't find anything." Hobbes said.
"We'll have to look for Arnaud if we don't find anything." Fawkes murmured.
Bobby looked at him. "Don't go getting any big ideas, my friend. That could be a long way off."
Darien sighed. "I know. You think he's playing a game or something? Like he'll jump out and surprise us with a 'got you two stupid agents' and have all five cars sitting at the agency when we get back?"
"I doubt it. He wouldn't put that much effort into making a joke. Into making yours or both of our lives miserable maybe, but not just for a gag." Bobby said.
"Let's get moving then. There's a horror flick on TV tonight." Darien said.
"Horror flick? You don't get enough of that at work everyday?"
The other three cars on the list, a Prowler, a custom Mercedes, and a Ferrari, all had the same results. None of the people at the addresses given in the file had ever owned cars like that, and probably never would. Defeated and disgusted, the partners headed back towards the agency.
"It doesn't make any sense. One goof up from Eberts would be understandable; he is human. But to screw up on four addresses?" Bobby groaned.
"I don't know, man. I think there's something else going on here. None of those people had any idea what we were talking about. That one lady didn't even know what a Prowler was." Darien said.
"The only one who was legitimate was R.J Wilson." Bobby mused.
"Did you get weird vibes off that Elaine woman when we were there?" Darien asked.
Hobbes smirked. "Just because one woman doesn't woo at your amazing charms doesn't mean she's got something wrong up there." He tapped the front of his head.
"Speak for yourself." Fawkes replied. "And that's not what I meant. She just gave me a funny feeling."
"Kind of like R.J herself. You wonder how she made that stack of cash."
"Exactly."
"You think we're being set up." Bobby said, rubbing his arm absently.
"I don't know. What do you think?" Darien asked.
"I think we should have a chat with the boss about sending us on a goose chase, that's what I think. If he really didn't know about it, then we play on your theory. But it would be hard to play that kind of game with the government." Bobby said.
"You put way to much faith in the government." Darien said under his breath.
Bobby heard him, but ignored the statement. It wasn't so much that he didn't want to retort, but the edges of his vision were getting a little bit hazy and blurry. He shook his head to clear it of the sensation, only to have it worsen to blurriness. Maybe you could even call it frostiness along the sides of his eyes.
Darien was didn't notice the lack of response, but he did notice when the van swayed dangerously towards the other lane. "You might want to watch it there, Hobbesey. The other drivers might want some of the road too."
Bobby gritted his teeth and squinted his eyes to see better. The cramping that had accompanied the onslaught of his arm was pushing against his eyes. He remembered that was how Darien described Quicksilver madness to him. A subtle terror that clawed it's way to the foreground.
"Hobbes, man, you're leaning a little bit to far to the left here." Darien said. This was beginning to make him nervous.
"Shut up, Fawkes, I'm aware of this," Hobbes growled.
"Hobbes," Darien said cautiously. A car blared its horn behind them. "I think they want to know if your going to change lanes or not." He offered.
"I don't." Hobbes muttered. He could feel his irises begin to contract. He mumbled something Darien didn't hear. "Can you drive over me?"
Darien blinked. "Drive over you?"
"You may have to take the wheel." Bobby explained calmly. He was proud, but he wasn't stubborn enough to put his partners life on the line for it.
"What's wrong?" Fawkes demanded.
"I'm losing my vision." Bobby said.
Fawkes gaped at him. "Now you're telling me?"
"Better late than never."
"Did I ever tell you how much I hate clichés?" Darien muttered.
As soon as the statement was out of his mouth, Bobby lost all of his sight. "Fawkes!" he gasped.
Darien lunged over and grabbed the wheel. "Hobbes!" he shouted.
"There's nothing I can do!" he replied desperately. He squeezed his eyes shut to fight off the attack. The last one had gone away quickly.
Darien swerved through an open line of traffic and into a parking lot. "Hit the break, hit the break!"
Automatically Hobbes jabbed his foot out and the vehicle came to an abrupt halt, nearly throwing Darien through the windshield. Darien slumped between the seats and took several deep breaths. Quicksilver flaked off his body where patches of it had disappeared during the unscheduled adrenaline rush. Bobby kept his eyes closed and reached out a hand. It made solid contact with Darien's shoulder and he squeezed it.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
"Oh, yeah, Just dandy. You going to tell me what that was about or are you going to wait until we actually crash?"
Bobby cringed and put his hands over his face. He lowered them and carefully opened his eyes. Crystal clear vision. He bit his lower lip and leaned back in the seat. "I'm going crazy." he said softly.
"I highly doubt it. We reached that plateau a long time ago." Fawkes replied. "Now, what was that about?"
Hobbes shook his head. "I don't know."
"Forgive me if I don't believe you."
"You're forgiven. I still don't know."
"Hobbes…"
"Look, if I knew, don't you think I'd be telling you right about now?"
"Something had to happen back there. You've been acting weird all day. You don't generally have cramps, and I think I would have noticed if you'd lost your sight while driving before."
Bobby looked at him. "I don't know, Fawkes. My eyes just went blurry then poof. I couldn't see anything. It's not like I'm doing this on purpose."
Darien sighed. "Will you talk to Claire?"
"What for?"
"You know what for." Darien snapped.
Bobby started to protest but stopped himself. He thought of all the people he could have killed if Darien hadn't been in the van to grab the wheel. He could have caused a major wreck. Or he could have killed his partner or himself if he hadn't said anything. He sighed and looked at Golda's ceiling. "Okay. I don't know what I'm gong to tell her."
Fawkes didn't say anything. Inwardly, he was afraid that Bobby really was going crazy. Maybe he was having a psychosomatic attack. Too many pills and it wasn't the right solution. But if Hobbes went crazy, where would that leave Darien?
"Switch seats with me. I'm driving." He finally said.
Bobby nodded slowly and got out of the van. He walked around to the other side and got in as Darien took the drivers seat. He felt as comfortable sitting in the driver's seat of the van as he did getting his weekly injection. The rest of the ride to the agency was silent.
They didn't say anything going into the agency, either. Neither one of them could remember a time where they hadn't said anything to each other for so long. But neither one of them could think of anything to break it. They eventually came to an awkward halt in front of the Official's office.
Darien shifted uncomfortably. "I'll go talk to the boss, and you go talk to Claire."
"Sure." Bobby agreed.
"Yeah. I'll…I'll meet you back here."
"Okay." Bobby headed down the hall to the elevator.
Darien watched him until he got there, and with a sigh knocked on the Official's door. He disappeared inside at the given 'enter'.
After he heard the door shut, Bobby turned as he waited for the elevator. "I wasn't born yesterday, kid." He said softly to himself. "Nobody's going to want an unreliable partner." The elevator dinged its arrival.
Darien flopped into his usual chair. "Four out of five of them are bogus."
The official glared at him. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that the people living at the places you gave us don't own the cars." Darien said.
"That's impossible. Those are the addresses the police gave us." Eberts objected.
"I'm telling you that they aren't real. Hobbes and I checked every one of them and only one, R.J. Wilson, admitted to having one of those cars stolen."
"Are you sure you got the right addresses with the right car?" Eberts asked.
Darien glared at him. "We aren't completely inept. We can read addresses off a page."
"This is ridiculous. There's an explanation for this." The Official cut in.
"We were hoping that there was." Fawkes said.
"Speaking of we, where is your partner?"
"He's talking to Claire."
"Why?"
"Small medical mishap. Nothing major."
"With the two of you a paper-cut becomes the plague. How not major is nothing major?" The Official asked suspiciously.
"Um…He…kind of blanked out. On the road." Darien said, trying to play it down.
"He did what?" The tone indicated more disbelief than not understanding.
"He lost his sight momentarily. It came back. Like I said, nothing major. About the addresses?" Darien asked. He was hoping he looked nonchalant. Or at least somewhat innocent.
The Official glared at him. "It better be nothing. I can't have an agent working on this case who could spaz out at any moment."
Darien chose not to comment.