10.

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Smooth walls, smooth floor, and he could only assume a smooth ceiling. He did not know if his footfalls, no matter how he tried to quiet them, echoed from the surface of stone or rough steel.

Peter could not see, and had stopped trying several right corners ago. He had figured that if this place had been build by someone, they would have probably put everything to the right, as the majority of people tended to be right-handed. He'd also considered that perhaps they had let him into this place on purpose, and therefore had counted on his knowledge of such things, and had put everything to the left. He ignored his second suspicion, deciding that, for once, cynicism would get him no where.

But he was getting tired. The air in the vast, unseen corridors was cold and heavy, in his lungs, and he was uncertain if it were sweat or blood that dripped from him, now. He had the horrible suspicion that he was going in circles.

As he was about to feel around along the wall for his own doorway, his toes touched something damp and cold. He retracted, his lungs painfully close to bursting as he held his breath, listening. Slowly, Peter knelt, reaching out to grab the moistness. It now registered as a wet towel, and he grimaced with confusion.

His vision flashed as something solid and heavy connected with the base of his skull, and he yelped, jarred from his balance to fall on his side. There was a quick grunt of aggression, and his throat was crushed beneath a knee. Peter struggled, gasping and choking as the pressure on his esophagus increased.

"Who are you?! Answer me!"

Peter attempted to choke out a reply, his head feeling light. He writhed weakly. The weight shifted slightly, and Peter brought his arms up, seizing his opposition and slamming them over onto the floor, holding their wrists. His eyes widened- the wrists were thin, and the body small and fragile, compared to his own- this was a woman, "Who are you?!" Peter demanded.

He caught a knee to the groin, and doubled over in pain as she bounced to her feet, "Olivia Dunham, FBI," she growled, panting.

"You're the cop?" Peter whimpered from the floor.

"You must be the crook. Why didn't you say so?"

"You were having such a great time strangling me that I didn't want to interrupt," Peter snapped, picking himself up and climbing to his feet.

"You shouldn't have snuck up on me," Olivia replied stiffly, "Anyways, what's your name?"

"Peter King."

"I know a bad alias when I hear it, I'm not stupid."

"…Peter Bishop. Arrest me later, would you?"

"I don't have my cuffs on me," Olivia replied. He could not tell if she were joking or not, "But you seem to have discovered my towel. Which can only mean one thing; I've been going in circles."

"How do you know?" Peter asked, wishing silently that he could see her face. Her voice sounded a little sexy, past all the formality.

"I left this towel here as a place marker. I could have passed this place a thousand times, but I don't know. Thence the towel."

"Nice thinking. Well, I can't have been going in circles," Peter reasoned.

"How's that?" Olivia asked.

"I would have met up with you, regardless of towel. I've only been making right turns. What about you?"

"Left-right-left-right. I've been counting the steps, and all of the halls seem to be the same length, from one corner to the next," Olivia sighed, "That's what doesn't make sense. I should have been going in a strait line, and I ended up back here."

"You're pretty good with those numbers, aren't you?"

"OCD. You're pretty good with screwed-up logic."

"I deal with very few logical people, in what I do. And thanks."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"Let's keep going right, and see if we end up here again," Peter said, shrugging her off, "At least it's something. Nothing we see as normal seems to work here, so let's just start with the impossible."

xXx

"This way."

"Hold on just a second, Walter!" Astrid said, leaning against the wall and panting, "We've been running around this place for hours, I'm tired."

She could not see him consider in the dark, "Well… I guess you wouldn't be used to the air, out here. I don't even know why I am, actually. The air in the rooms is pre-conditioned to be lighter, so naturally this would be like a run in the mountains, wouldn't it?"

"Something like that," Astrid panted with a smile, "How do you even know where we're going?"

There was a pause, "I don't know. I just know."

"If you don't know, what keeps you from running face-first into a wall?" Astrid laughed.

"I can see. Can't you?"

"No, Walter."

"Ah. I see. It could be that I've developed my sense of sight in darkness from becoming accustomed to it. How wonderfully useful." Walter seemed slightly proud of his new discovery about himself.

"Are you talking to yourself again?" Astrid questioned.

"I could leave you here, and you'd get lost." Walter said.

"No. I'd find you and kick the crap out of you," Astrid said flatly, "come on, let's get going, I'm done resting." She straitened with a sigh.

She felt Walter's hand take her wrist, beginning to lead her off down the corridor, "I'd never leave you, miss."

She hoped he was looking ahead as she reddened, "…Thanks, Walter."

"I once became so exhausted that I fell asleep eating salmon," Walter announced, "'tasted wonderful, but not too terribly comfortable as a headrest."

"Midterms that hard, huh?"

"Hmm? Oh. No. I hadn't slept in several days, alphamethylphenethylamine tends to do that, ha ha." He stopped suddenly, and she bumped her cheek on the back of his shoulder.

"Ow- Walter, what are you-"

"Shh!" he said. They were silent for a few moments, "…Do you hear that?"

"What?"

"If you would shush for ten seconds, you'd hear it," Walter snapped.

Astrid sighed, and strained her ears, "I don't hear anything, Walter."

"Hmm. Perhaps I'm delusional," he shrugged, and they moved on, "but, as I was saying about the salmon-"

"Wait!" Astrid exclaimed, pulling his arm to stop him, "I-I think I do hear something. Is it… kind of like a humming noise?"

"Yes- something like massive amounts of electricity moving along ungrounded wires. Perhaps a power surge, or a reserve switching on."

The noise was growing louder, until Astrid felt like her teeth were going to rattle out of her skull. It seemed to be coming from overhead, and they both looked up, "What the hell…?" Astrid breathed.

xXx

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