Pelant's morning started well, it was almost perfect. He woke up early, made a cup of cappuccino and finished things he hadn't done yesterday. Videlicet, he completed the template for his another one fake ID. The plans he built were grandiose, tremendous, even mind-blowing, and he needed special recourses to carry out the first operation from his own crazy checklist. Christopher turned on his expensive and powerful laptop - just the one that he was strictly forbidden to have for personal use. However, bored prohibitions texted on a piece of paper were the last thing that could hinder his malicious goals.
Finished with the ID, Christopher soulfully went into the shower where he spent for at least half an hour. Standing under the hot water jets, he had a lot of time to enjoy his thoughts of what a nightmare would fall on Jeffersonian's head next week.
But someone was brave enough to disrupt his routine...
When Pelant returned into the room in a magnificent, elevated mood, he was met there by the muzzle of a gun poked right into his cheek, and then he heard: "Freeze."
"What a meeting, agent Booth," he squinted at him without turning his head. He figured out rapidly that his ass was in a big trouble, probably in the biggest one, so he made his favourite trick which always worked; "Can I look at the warrant?"
But he didn't expect that Booth would immediately thrust the warrant into his face, breaking his only line of defense. The time he chose for the visit turned out to be extremely successful: the laptop and other equipment were in the most prominent place - right on the bed.
"Take a look, all the signatures, every single one of them are here," Seeley sneered, watching criminal's victorious face darken; "I just came to wish you good morning, but… Wow" he pointed to the forbidden gadgets; "You can't even imagine what a gift you made for me with all this stuff."
Christopher kept silent, weighting the odds. The results were upsetting - he was caught red-handed, so no lawyer would ever help him. His house arrest would replace by the real term of imprisonment due to violating conditions established by the court. He was facing life in prison.
"Well," Booth said, staring at these concrete evidence, but he still held the criminal at gunpoint; "So, what do we have here, fake ID? Identity theft, forgery, fraud. You're looking at some serious time, Pelant…"
Seeley has dreamed for a long time about the day he would finally pin him down, but he couldn't even expect that his dreams would true today. It felt much better, getting not only professional satisfaction, but personal as well.
"Fine… Come on, arrest me and let us have done with it," Pelant sighed obediently and stretched his hands forward.
The taste of this sudden and stupid failure was the most disgusting thing he had ever experienced, he couldn't get away from the understanding his freedom was over and he would have to suffer the most severe punishment. He was afraid of a death penalty, no matter Sweet was saying, but it seemed even worse to spend the rest of the days in the bestial conditions.
Booth totally ignored his words, as if he hadn't heard him at all. He was pacing back and forth, brandishing his loaded gun, and speculating aloud on what a disgusting situation Pelant had just involved himself in, that the feds would beat the holy hell out of him and his usual "creepy smile" entourage would vanish in the blink of an eye. They would break Pelant during many hours of interrogation at first, but then in prison, where Seeley promised to find the most "friendly" cellmates for him.
"Enough!" Christopher couldn't stand it anymore, finding himself thinking that his nerves were far from strong, without a shield of insanity. His eyes were bugging out, and his blood ran cold. Horror climbed under his nails, his skin, making his breath faster.
"I'm just explaining what awaits you, nothing more," Booth parrying tone was instantly replaced by disdain; "It sucks, huh? When someone decides your fate."
He wouldn't mind scoffing at him for days, but unfortunately, he didn't have enough time for it, so he reached for the handcuffs.
"Wait, wait," the criminal exclaimed, putting his head on his shoulders. His hands were still in the air, which made him look helpless as hell.
Booth raised his eyebrow, but said nothing, letting him speak first by unknown reason. Usually he remained steadfast whatever happens, but now he was waiting, crouched like a predator before his deadly attack.
"Okay, you caught me," Pelant said, having no better options to avoid his verdict, but his well-hung tongue took control of the situation: "But… Maybe we can work something out."
"Are you offering me a deal right now?" he didn't raise his voice, but put a gun to his chin and slightly threw his head back until their eyes met; "Really? A DEAL?"
"I… I wouldn't call it a deal per se," Christopher dodged. It was uncomfortable to stand so close in front of him with the muzzle stuck, but there were no alternatives; "Rather an interesting agreement. What if I will fulfill for you three absolutely any wishes, like a genie? But in return, you'll let me go free, and we'll both pretend like nothing happened."
The idea seemed pure madness, even by his own standards. And the chances of success were equal to thousandths of a pathetic one percent, but he decided to try his luck one last time, taking into account Booth's changeable behaviour. He knew that Seeley had a weakness for all mess stuff, that he was a gambler at heart who could barely resist his addiction. Pelant loved this feature of him, and he considered himself a good card to play on, in every sense of the word.
Seeley seemed to muse about Christopher's offer, he frowned, paused and pursed his lip, and therefore put the pistol back in its holster and blurted out:
"Bullshit," he ordered Pelant to turn around and put his hands behind his back.
"No, it's not," he obeyed, his voice sounded desperate; "Just listen, three any wishes. After all, I can be useful to you, I promise, I have certain skills for this."
"Your skills are illegal," the agent remarked sternly, enclosing his wrists in handcuffs, but suddenly hesitated for a second. And Pelant took his chance:
"Perhaps they are, but that doesn't make them useless. Think by yourself. Maybe you are not given access to some burning cases, and there is no time to collect all the papers for this? Or maybe, I don't know, should we quietly check the neighboring state's database? You are a man of your word , no doubt, but I can keep promises, too."
"Small favours don't compare with ruined lives, for your information," Booth shook his head, gathering his thoughts. An angel on his shoulder told him he was being tempted and had to fight back, but his devil had another opinion.
Seeley found a certain amount of truth in Christopher's words, a sense he was ashamed to admit. Indeed, Booth had a couple of moments on his account when it was necessary to bypass the system, with good intentions only. But there was something else too, something that he wished to forget and delete forever from the database and from his own mind, but upon reality he knew that he would never have the proper resources in his life. However, now he had just such a resource in front of him, a furious, arrogant, cutesy, but damn powerful source of influence, if to look at it from a certain angle.
"Okay, just forget it, it was a dumb idea," Christopher grinned pessimistically, resting his forehead against the wall. Well, sooner or later, the villains get what they deserve, but he didn't expect his hour would come today.
However, in the next second handcuffs were off, and Booth grabbed him painfully by the shoulder and turned him around:
"Three wishes?" his eyes were filled with doubt; "Could you be more specific? In any contract there are phrases written in small print."
Probably, it was the hardest step for his strong moral foundations, a greatest fight between conscience and that dark-side of him which he was used to hide deep inside. But now it was screaming within, tearing him apart with its acute claws, reflecting in his confused eyes. Christopher offered him something illicit, bad, but seductive, and the question remained whether the game was worth the candle. Pelant has always been "a master", ever since his first terrific murder. He manipulated people, exhausted them mentally, but now, caught red-handed, he was ready to serve as "a slave".
Sounded too good to be true, didn't it?