"This is certainly an interesting place," Erik spoke his mind as he stood in the doorway of Annalise's bedroom in her apartment, his eyes moving around it with curiosity. He failed to believe that he had just met this girl and already he was allowing her on his own vendetta against Schmidt. Erik worked alone. That was the way he liked it and it was the way it had always been until that moment. He didn't know what it was about Annalise but there was something which made him think that she needed revenge as much as he did.
"The salary at the bank isn't that bad," she shrugged, screwing up another blouse and dropping it into a small bag with haste. She looked around the bedroom; wondering what else she would be in need of.
"I do have a question," Erik admitted, folding his arms and crumpling his leather jacket as he did so in the process. "You have been working at the bank for the last couple of years, correct?"
"Two years and four months," Annalise corrected him. "It's not like I'm counting," she grinned and Erik remained tight lipped.
"How have you not found Schmidt before? His details were right in your clutches and you never managed to find him."
"I don't know," Annalise admitted in a small whisper. "I've seen a lot of files with people's names on them. His name never came up...and how did you know to go to the bank?"
"I have my sources," Erik simply stated, not wanting to divulge into anything more than that as he looked at the clock on her bedside table. "We need to be going."
"I'm done," she spoke, zipping up the bag and hanging it onto her shoulder before picking up her patent black shoulder bag, dangling it on the crook of her arm whilst Erik raised a brow.
"Are you planning on going with all of that?" he checked with her and she nodded once.
"I'm not a male," she huffed, her French accent seeming more apparent when she was in some form of mood. "I cannot simply carry everything which I have in my pockets."
"Bloody hell," Erik complained, holding his hand out to her. "Give me your bag."
"I can manage," she snapped back, moving past him into the living area of her apartment before opening the door and looking at Erik. "Come on then."
"I didn't realise you were this bossy," he muttered, swiftly moving past her with his case by his side as he glowered into her eyes and she rolled her own blue ones.
"I'm not," she denied.
"And you're stubborn too."
"Fine," Annalise replied, shutting the door to the apartment quickly and moving the bag from her shoulder, throwing it towards Erik. "You can carry my bag, d'accord?"
"Whatever," he muttered, placing it onto his shoulder whilst Annalise fumbled around in her bag, placing her keys into a safe compartment and zipping the designer merchandise back up quickly and holding it on her arm before following Erik down the hall of the apartment, stopping at the elevator as he adjusted the strap to her bag on his arm.
"What do you have in here?" he complained.
"If you can't manage it then I'll carry it," she told him quickly and he shook his head, moving his body back from her sudden outstretched hand as she tried to take the bag back.
"I didn't say that, did I?" he replied to her, stepping into the elevator. Annalise followed him, the pair of them remaining quiet on the ride down and then on the walk out to the street.
"I bet we can't find a taxi," Erik complained and Annalise shook her head.
"Do you want to know what else I can do?" she asked him, her voice a small whisper as she stood close to Erik.
"And what is that?"
"Control minds," she muttered quickly back to him and before he had a chance to ask her anything further a car pulled up at the side of the road and Erik grinned lightly.
"You certainly do have an interesting talent," he said to her, opening the door and holding it open for her to go into and she shrugged lightly.
"I wouldn't disagree."
...
"Well," Annalise said, dropping her bag onto the bed in the motel which the two of them had rented for the night, "it is certainly warm here in Argentina."
"Stop complaining," Erik told her, his voice low and in a mutter. The entire journey had been tiring and Erik hadn't managed to sleep. Annalise on the other hand fell asleep in every vehicle which they travelled in. Apparently she was a deep sleeper.
"I was just stating a fact," she replied quickly, opening up the bag which she kept full of clothes and looking for another outfit to change into, feeling warm and needing to change after the really long journey. "What are you doing anyway?"
"Finding out where Schmidt will be," Erik replied, drawing out a map from his bag and resting it on the chipped desk which the motel room provided. Annalise remained quiet, allowing him to go about his work before she moved into the bathroom, carrying her change of outfit and toiletry bag as she closed the door. Erik registered the shutting of the door and glanced over at it before he went back to his map, pinpointing the exact location of where the manager had told him Schmidt was. Erik allowed the map to stay on the desk and he then looked at the bed, unable to resist its temptation.
"I have to tell you that you did not think the sleeping arrangement through," Annalise told Erik as she moved back out of the bathroom. The metal bender was laid on top of the bed already, his hands clasped together and resting on his stomach, his eyes shut tightly and his mouth parted gently.
"What are you talking about?" he asked her, wanting to do nothing more than go to sleep.
"Monsieur Lensherr," she complained, "I did believe it was obvious."
"You know you can call me Erik," he told her. "And there is a sofa if you're that uptight," he muttered with his eyes still closed. There was silence for a moment before Erik felt a pillow hit his head.
"I shall take the right hand side," she told him. "It is my preferred side and so you need to move."
"Fine," Erik said, his eyes opening as he moved with the pillow on his lap. He looked at the secretary who wore a simple white nightgown as she pushed the covers to her side of the bed back and climbed into their softness and the engulfing mattress.
"How long have you been looking for him?" she suddenly asked whilst Erik remained still. She was rolled onto her side, looking at the wall which paint was peeling from and Erik managed to close his eyes once again.
"Eighteen years," he told her simply.
"How have you survived all these years?"
"Money is not an issue when you're a mutant," he told her, remaining vague. "Schmidt is all I want. He has been like smoke to try and catch."
Annalise remained silent, her eyes closed and one hand stuffed under the white pillow of the bed before she wondered what to say back to Erik. She decided that conversation was nothing desired by either of them at that moment in time.
"Goodnight Erik," she muttered his name.
Erik remained quiet before feeling on the bedside table for the lamp to turn the light off. He couldn't be bothered to change out of his clothes as his limbs suddenly felt heavy and he was too tired to do anything further apart from whisper back to her;
"Goodnight Annalise."
...
"Do I pick on your fashion sense?" Annalise snapped at Erik as he walked down the green grass from the main road where the pair of them had managed to be dropped off. Erik rolled his eyes, shrugging out of his jacket and holding it over his shoulder as the secretary huffed at him.
"I am not picking on your fashion sense. I am picking on your choice of clothes for the day. You're not working at the bank now," he snapped back at her and Annalise crossed her arms as she walked beside him down the hill, stumbling to keep up.
"You are forgetting I control minds," she reminded him. "Unlike you I have never needed to make a quick escape and I doubt I will need to when we reach this bar where we are going."
"Whatever," Erik replied, not being bothered to argue with her. "If you trip in them heels then don't come crying to me because I will say that I told you so."
"I can always make you not say that," she promised him and he chuckled at her. She moved her patent black bag to rest onto her shoulder. She wore a tight grey dress and her hair was scraped back into a ponytail as she held herself proudly walking beside Erik.
"We need a reason as to why we are going into the bar," Annalise told Erik as the building came into sight. It looked like something picturesque; somewhere you could easily spend time at.
"Well I normally go into a bar for a drink," he told her dryly, the sarcasm rolling off his tongue with fluency. "I don't know why you would go into a bar."
"Tres drole," she replied in bored French; expressing how funny she thought Erik was with sarcasm equal in her voice. "I was meaning that we need to cooperate our stories. They may ask us how we know each other."
"You can have the privilege of being my fiancé," he shrugged. "Brother and sister wouldn't work...nothing about us is alike."
"Oui," she agreed with him.
"How many of them are there?" he enquired, nodding towards the building as they approached it. Annalise closed her eyes for a moment, looking inside and then she turned her stare up to Erik.
"Three of them," she informed him. "They're German too...I don't even speak German."
"Luckily for you I do," he told her. "Just sit there and look pretty," he winked at her and she rolled her eyes, moving with Erik into the bar after he had draped his jacket over her shoulders. He held the door open for her and placed his hand onto the small of her back, guiding her into the bar. Her heels clicked on the wooden floor and her black bag dropped down to the crook of her arm once again as Erik sat down on a bar stool. Annalise remained silent, watching as Erik ordered her a cola and he was then presented with a beer himself. Annalise moved into Erik's head, her eyes looking between the men as she translated everything into English from his mind.
'German Beer' Erik stated
'Of course' Annalise huffed. Erik looked to her, his eyes narrowed, wondering what she was doing in his head.
'It is the best, is it not?' the German man asked and Erik raised his glass upwards, toasting him.
'It is.'
'So tell us, who is this beautiful woman you travel with? She looks like a lost person from the town,' The plump German asked, his head nodding over to Annalise who remained in Erik's head, pretending she did not know anything which was happening.
'My fiancée. She is French...doesn't speak any German and you are right. She is from the city. Paris to be correct. A few miles from Dusseldorf where I live.'
'I used to live in Dusseldorf as a tailor and he used to be a pig farmer," The quiet German man spoke and Annalise felt Erik's head become one filled of rage. His glass was tense in his hand and he pressed it to his lips, sipping the alcohol down in a few gulps as he stood up and walked over to join the men.
'Calm down Erik," Annalise spoke into his mind. He didn't look back at her, his eyes remained firm on the men at the table as she took a sip of the cola.
'What were your parent's names?'
'They didn't have names. It was taken from them by tailors and pig farmers.' Erik exaggerated the two professions by raising his glass to the two men. Annalise felt the atmosphere turn dark as the three men at the wooden table fell into a slumber. She remained sat on the bar stool, her eyes fixed onto Erik as she looked into the man behind the bar's thoughts.
'Drop the gun on the bar,' She controlled him and he did as she had asked. As soon as it fell Erik made his move, pulling the knife which the portly man had produced from his grasp, looking at the blade as Annalise picked up the gun which had been dropped.
'Blood and Honour? Which one would you like to shed first?'
'We were under orders.'
'Blood then.'
Without warning Erik slammed the dagger into the man's hand, the skin tearing and the table cracking under its force. The man across from the table stood up, producing his own gun as he backed away from the table. Erik noted his move, bringing the dagger from the man's hand and flying it across into the tailor's stomach. The man who had been behind the bar emerged from it, advancing to Annalise who had the gun in her hand. She jumped down from the bar stool, almost tripping over her bag by the feet of the seat and she tried to clear her mind to control the man who was making his way to her.
'Stupid bitch' he spoke in German, his hand raised as his palm came into contact with her cheek. She dropped the gun as she grabbed onto the bar for leverage and it clattered onto the floor. The man began to bend down, trying to place it into his grasp but Erik was quicker. He lifted it up from the ground and it flew into his hand. Without a moment's hesitation he fired a shot at the man who had hit Annalise and he tumbled to the ground. The blonde quickly jumped back as his body moved by her feet, blood seeping out of him.
'What are you?'
The remaining man's question rung in Erik's ears as he looked at the picture which hung on the wall, his eyes glaring into his tormentor's.
"Let's just say I'm Frankenstein's monster," he drawled. "And I'm looking for my creator."
And then he fired his final shot. The noise rang around the bar as the man fell from his seat on the bench and Erik looked at the three corpses.
"Oh mon dieu," Annalise said and Erik chuckled. She had said 'Oh my God.' God didn't play any part in this. It was all Erik. "This is a massacre!"
"They had it coming," he told her simply as she checked the pulse on one man's neck, her fingers coming into contact with cold skin. She recoiled from the cold and stood up quickly, moving away from the bar as the smell of blood entered her nostrils. "I warned you that this could be dangerous."
"I know," Annalise snapped back quickly. "I know...and I know they would have killed you...can we just go?"
"I'm not planning on sticking around," he replied, pushing his brown hair back into place.
"The smell is disgusting," she complained, her nose wrinkling as Erik walked to the door of the bar, pushing it open quickly as Annalise hopped through it, handing him the jacket which she had been looking after. He took it from her, flinging it over his shoulder as the pair of them began to move back along the green grass.
"So where is he?" she asked him.
"Miami," he said simply. "He has a boat there."
"When do we go?"
"As soon as possible," Erik told her simply. "We shall go and collect our things from the motel and then leave. The longer we wait then the quicker he gets way."
"Agreed," Annalise nodded once.
"Are you okay?" he suddenly asked out of the blue and she looked at him as he stared down at her. "He hit you Annalise."
"Oh," she suddenly remembered, her hand resting on her own cheek. "Oui...I'm fine...yes...I didn't really feel it."
"Good," Erik spoke once. "You're shaking."
"Well after spending the last two years in a bank then you don't see that sort of scene Monsieur Lensherr."
"Don't forget the four months," he added on and she chuckled once. "Do you want to sit down for a moment? You're no use when you're in shock."
"Merci," she replied in a chuckle. "I'm fine...Schmidt isn't resting, is he? So we can't."
"You're right," he agreed. "But my mother always taught me to be polite."
"She raised you well then," Annalise said.
"I'd like to think so," he replied in a whisper. "You're still shaking...just sit down for a moment would you? I don't want to put up with your nerves...I shouldn't have brought you here..."
"No," Annalise said quickly, falling onto the grass, her grey skirt moving above her knees as she buried her head into her hands. "I'm fine...just give me a moment...it was the smell of the bar...the blood..."
"It is fine," Erik replied, slightly agitated as he saw her bow her head. "I personally think you've only stopped because you can't keep up in those ridiculous shoes." He tried to lighten the mood, seeing her sombre face and she looked up at Erik, managing a small grin.
"Oh shut up," she complained, standing up again and straightening herself out as Erik congratulated himself in his head. Annalise began to walk ahead, proving she could keep up as Erik remained still for a second, his face spreading with a large grin before he saw her turn around and look back at him.
"And you can stop looking at my behind," she replied and he looked to the ground, a smirk in place as he ran to catch up with her, falling into step by her side.
"This is why you shouldn't be allowed into people's minds," he informed her.
"Or you could keep your thoughts low, Monsieur Lensherr," she replied as he dropped his jacket back onto her shoulders in the cool breeze. He stuffed his hands into his brown pants pocket and shrugged once.
"You knew what you were letting yourself in for Mademoiselle Dubois."
...
A/N: Thank you to my four reviewers yesterday! Also thank you to anyone who is reading and please do leave me a review! They are encouraging and help me to update!