A/N- I'm back! Did yah miss me? Okay, a few notes: (1) This plot line belongs to me and only me. It's copyrighted. If you would like to borrow it (for websites, etc), email me. I don't like plagiarism. Be original. Think of your own storylines. (2) I don't own Mutant X. (3) I don't have a clue what a 'firewall' is. They used them to try and contain Kilohertz (I think), so I'm assuming it prevents hackers and the like. If it's not, pardon my ignorance. (4) I apologize to all Brennan fans I offend (though I hope I don't at all). (5) vega rocks, and don't you forget it…. Okay, I think that's it…lets get on with it…R/R…
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The heavy metal door creaked. Direct sunlight spilled into the smooth bare concrete floor from the open doorway, showing the falling dust in the air. The silence gave away the emptiness of the small, forgotten warehouse.
"What a place to live," Brennan commented, pushing his sunglass up from his nose to his head as he strolled casually into the long corridor.
Emma moved past him, looking up the hallway ahead of them and into the doorway to their left. "Compared to some of the places we've been, seems kind of homey to me."
"Whatever. You getting anything?"
The telempath glanced around the corridor again, touching the wall at her left, beyond the doorway. In the back of her mind, something was there. It was quiet, but there. "I think so. I'm trying to pinpoint it."
The two walked carefully down the dingy hallway. Each step they took creaked in the still air. Emma set her eyes on the floor in front of her, focusing on the foreign feelings inside her own head. It was growing, acting like a strange homing beacon, intensifying with every second, pulsing like a headache. She touched her forehead and began to massage her sinus passage.
"Tell me if it's too much, Em," Brennan voiced behind her.
The pulsing slowed. She glanced around. A door to her right called out to her. She griped the doorknob, gladly replacing the boundaries in her mind to block the emotions out.
"Locked."
Brennan brushed her behind him with an arrogant smile. "Let me," With a flick of his wrist, he shot a single bolt of electricity into the old rusted lock. "Now try."
She pushed past him to try the door again. The knob stopped short of a full turn once more. Emma rolled her eyes. "Not even close."
"Alright, alright," Brennan replied, coming forward again, "I'll try Plan B. Do you have a hair pin?" She shot him a look. "I'm gonna try and pick it. I wasn't a thief for nothing." He waved his fingers at her in a give-me motion. "Come on, hair pin."
She felt through her long hair. "I don't think I have one."
"What? What kind of girl are you?"
"One that doesn't use hair pins." Emma shot back, rummaging through the pockets of her black overcoat. Suddenly her hand reemerged. "Safety pin?"
Brennan smiled, taking the small metal object from her. "Finally, something I can work with." He popped open the pin from its closed position and inserted it into the dead bolt. Biting his lip, he twisted it around, against the tiny metal pieces inside the door, waiting for the telltale pop.
He turned the knob again and the door pushed open with ease. "Admit it. You're impressed."
Emma chuckled as Brennan ushered her in. "Constantly, Brennan."
The two entered what was less of a room, and more like the rest of the un-renovated warehouse. Wooden crates were piled up against the wall like a tower with various height levels. Other old pieces of equipment were stationed around the room: a rickety old balance beam near the corner, a pair of rings hanging from the high ceiling, a high bar anchored to the ground by two flimsy-looking boards. A large navy sparring mat covered a great deal of the excess room. To one side of it, two dirty looking white towels had been tossed aside. Scattered around the room were a few pieces of either broken or oddly bent wood.
The elemental reached down and picked up a piece close to his foot. The firm wood was bent around a large oval imprint in the center. He swung it once against his open palm to check its solidity. "Never seen anything like this."
"Think it could be from a fight?" Emma's eyebrows furrowed into a look of perplexing confusion as she continued out in front of him to examine the room.
He shrugged. "Doesn't look like much of a struggle if it was," he nodded towards the blue floor padding, "the mat's barely messed up. The way these things are spread, they would have left a trail to the door."
The air whooshed in front of him as something fell to the ground. Brennan barely had time to react before the plastic sole of a boot was launched towards his face. His hands came up, using the contorted piece of timber to stop it before impact with his head.
"Kerry, right?" He stated a look of surprise on his face.
Without an answer, Kerry threw herself into a back handspring, smacking the tall man in the chin with both her feet, throwing backwards, off balance, against the hard wall.
Seconds after attacker regained her upright position, the telempath squinted concentrating hard on the brunette. A flash of light released from her forehead.
Kerry's arm flew to her head, suddenly surrounded in her light contorting bubble. The blast reached the field and bounced away, hitting, instead, the redhead. Emma crumpled to the floor.
The angry woman rushed to the fallen man, grabbed him by the collar, and dragged him, wincing from his incredible impact with the wall, to his feet. With all the force in her body, she slammed him against the rusted steel walls. "Where the hell is Mickey!?"
"What?" Brennan asked, confused and slightly dazed by the surprise blow.
She brought her free hand to his neck, enclosed in her inch thick film. "Don't play games with me, jackass." Her voice was crazy with anger, even maniacal. "This cuts through skin like freakin' Jell-O!" With every syllable, she shook her lethal hand at his throat.
"I'm not lying! I swear!"
"I recognize your girlfriend from the club! I know you took him! Now where is he?!"
Brennan's mind whirled. Her eyes were exploding with fury. She just might be crazy enough to kill him. The bubble was so close to his skin he could feel it hovering. Any movement and it would be over.
"Answer me, you son of a --"
Flash.
Her eyes suddenly relaxed as her body began to fall to the floor. In the same second, Brennan's tension disappeared. The threat was gone.
But her powers were not.
Brennan shouted in pain as the field cut into his shoulder, peeling away his jacket and t-shirt, ripping his flesh apart. Quickly, though not quickly enough, he batted her hand away. He slid along the wall to the floor beside his attacker. He could feel his thick blood soaking the edges of his clothes.
"Brennan!" Emma shouted, crawling to him from her place on the floor. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry!"
"Damnit!" he shouted touching the large open wound. "Aw, damn!"
Immediately, Emma pulled her jacket from her back and began ripping the inner lining into strips. "This should stop the bleeding. I'm calling Adam for backup."
"No, I can make it to the Helix." Brennan moaned trying to get back to his feet. "I can make it. You get her."
· -Break- *
·
Jesse rubbed his chin, his mind spinning with logic problems and computer code. Adam hadn't wasted time getting the blonde to his task, giving him his own computer and immediate access to the Genomex database. Now all he had to do was to begin his search, a tedious task of breaking down firewalls and pass codes. It wasn't exactly difficult, not for him at least, just a lot of work to be done by hand.
In the last few minutes he'd gotten an idea though, a sudden stroke of inspiration. Since then, he'd been bent over the machine, working his magic to make his plan a reality.
He heard her before he could see her. Her boots made loud clinking noises against the smooth floor. She could have muffled them if she wanted, but rarely did in the safety of home. After he heard her, he felt her. Her presence in the room was unmistakable and unforgettable, a feeling of warmth mixed with anger. It was something he'd learned to pick up from all their years together.
He didn't turn his head at first. He had to fight the urge to glance over at her, to say something. Something told him not to. It would be a bad move to start the conversation. If she wanted to speak to him, she would speak first. Confrontation was her way, not his.
But he did want to talk to her. He couldn't deny that something else in him wanted to confide in her again. The thought of their old relationship wandered across his mind more than he chose to admit…
... So did the harsh words, the screaming, and the painful silence.
Unbearable curiosity forced his eyes from his screen. Her face was serious. She walked over to couches in the other half of the large room. Holding a thick packet of papers, she settled into the sofa, putting her feet up on the coffee table in the midst of the furniture. Her eyes began to move across the first page quickly, reading whatever information it held.
He held the glance for only a second, returning to the computer in front of him to stare even harder at it, compensating for the weakness in his judgment. He wondered if she knew he was there. Her mannerisms and actions told him no. She wasn't interested in whether or not he was there, then and now. His gut told him yes. Her strong feral sense could detect anyone from a mile away, much less a few feet.
But what did he care? He had work to do, and with all his energy he tried to concentrate on that work.
"Not even a hello?"
Had he said that? He didn't even realize he'd opened his mouth.
She looked up at him.
He didn't realize he was looking at her either.
Her face remained the same calm expression, the first one he'd seen on her in a long time. He didn't see anger or hatred. Maybe she'd forgiven him. Maybe it would be okay.
But with her most casual tone, she replied,
"Go to hell."
* -Break- *
Bart watched as the redhead dragged the brunette out of the rundown loft. A man emerged, clutching his bloody shoulder and stumbling after the woman ahead. She turned her head and called to him. He yelled back, cringing, trying to move faster. She looked worried, but continued her path.
His eyes snapped open like the tiny cell phone in his hand. In a smooth clear voice, he stated, "Movement 2, 1 injured, Black barrier down. Pursuit?"
There was a moment of complete silence.
"Negative, return and debrief."
He slowly placed the phone back in his pocket. Freddie looked at him, shaking her long blond hair out of her face. "So?"
"We're done here," Bart replied, shifting the small unlicensed black car out of park. "For now at least."
