Aberrant: In the Beginning - Peter Bell

[Peter Bell]

"With Ellen's okay, I can start in three days," Peter says after a moments hesitation. It was actually longer than that, but Peter actually felt the need to prioritize his projects before responding. Some of the portraits could not wait - not for him in this moment in time.

"And of course, as much as you carve your presence into your corporation, I couldn't do it without out. Without you, my effort would be ... hallow."

[Titan]

After that exchange, the rest was just meaningless pleasantries. Morgan tried to get Peter to promise to join him for base jumping sometime, Ellen complimented the meal, the waitstaff cleared things away, and just like that, the meeting with the philanthropist billionaire was over.

[Titan]

After that exchange, the rest was just meaningless pleasantries. Morgan tried to get Peter to promise to join him for base jumping sometime, Ellen complimented the meal, the waitstaff cleared things away, and just like that, the meeting with the philanthropist billionaire was over.

[Peter Bell]

It was late when he got back, but Peter didn't care. He wanted to paint. He brought out his colors, cut on the TV for background noise, and returned to the the Vision-painting he had done earlier. In his mind, he began breaking down the components until something made sense. Or, he would have if he hadn't seen the fire in England. Something about him struck him as especially tragic. He walked over and turned up CNN.

They were saying it was another "New Person" event. A flaming man, or woman, had set upon a crowd of pedestrians, killing a dozen at least. The article was gone from the news cycle too soon.

Peter thought about calling somebody, but who could he call. Certainly the others in London would become aware of this and be on it, if they weren't already there.

Did they have her in custody? Was she okay? Why had she done ... no. He knew why she had done it. Farhenheit.

He walked back to the canvas, trying desperately to not worry about her. The current canvas wasn't working. Peter needed something else.

He went to his first sketch. Titan Omega.

A new canvas went up and once more Peter dipped into the well of time.

[Peter Bell]

It was late when he got back, but Peter didn't care. He wanted to paint. He brought out his colors, cut on the TV for background noise, and returned to the the Vision-painting he had done earlier. In his mind, he began breaking down the components until something made sense. Or, he would have if he hadn't seen the fire in England. Something about him struck him as especially tragic. He walked over and turned up CNN.

They were saying it was another "New Person" event. A flaming man, or woman, had set upon a crowd of pedestrians, killing a dozen at least. The article was gone from the news cycle too soon.

Peter thought about calling somebody, but who could he call. Certainly the others in London would become aware of this and be on it, if they weren't already there.

Did they have her in custody? Was she okay? Why had she done ... no. He knew why she had done it. Farhenheit.

He walked back to the canvas, trying desperately to not worry about her. The current canvas wasn't working. Peter needed something else.

He went to his first sketch. Titan Omega.

A new canvas went up and once more Peter dipped into the well of time.

[Titan]

Peter blinked, and slowly rejoined the present. He looked at his canvas. The Titan Omega looked back, anguish on his face. He seemed ready to burst with despair. Facing the Titan, an intricately painted robotic contraption held an unconscious (dead?) young girl, perhaps 12 or 13 years old.

The multi armed machine had a scalpel-tipped waldo poised above her sternum. Lines had been drawn on her belly, indicating various organ locations. The robot had a face, of sorts. It stared blankly at the Titan.

[Titan]

Peter blinked, and slowly rejoined the present. He looked at his canvas. The Titan Omega looked back, anguish on his face. He seemed ready to burst with despair. Facing the Titan, an intricately painted robotic contraption held an unconscious (dead?) young girl, perhaps 12 or 13 years old.

The multi armed machine had a scalpel-tipped waldo poised above her sternum. Lines had been drawn on her belly, indicating various organ locations. The robot had a face, of sorts. It stared blankly at the Titan.

[Peter Bell]

"Oh crap," Peter hissed through clenched teeth. Another vision that held dire consequences and to which he had no easy answer.

"One of these days I'm going to have a vision and its going to come with a map and a phone number."

Peter wasn't happy, but he realized the power wasn't about the things people could figure out on their own. It wasn't about the easy answers, and he hope it was about important things - things that mattered.

A girl's life was at stake, or would be. Peter had to find a way to warn Titan in a way that would do the massive nova some good.

But how?

Peter picked up the phone and called the number for the Aeon Society. They most likely didn't have a contact number, but would have some way of getting a message to him. Peter wanted to tell them the message but knew that wouldn't be enough. Titan needed to see the painting for himself and draw his own conclusions. That is what his gut said and that's what he tended to do.

"Hello, Aeon Society, I'm Peter Bell," he spoke into the phone when the connection was picked up. "I need to talk to Titan Omega. Its urgent. Life and Death urgent."

[Titan]

The operator connects him with Margaret Mercer.

"Hello, Peter!" She croons, delighted to have the chance to speak with one of the Novus that have left. She listens to his request, then says:

"No problem. We have no contact information on file, but I have it from reliable sources that if you simply call out his name, he can hear you, and will respond. I- Excuse me a moment Peter, I have another call..." Hold music. Bad hold music.

When she picks up again, Margaret sounds shaken.

"Peter, I- We have a... a situation here. I have to..." There is a click, then a dial tone.

[Peter Bell]

Oh crap ... I don't like the sound of that.

Whatever the crisis is in London, Peter has his own here. He regrets seperating himself from the Aeon people somewhat, but he knows if they need him they can find him. Besides, Fang has his number as well.

Peter grabs his painting of Titan Omega and goes to the roof. Looking out over the city at night, he can't help but appreciate that fragile beauty that civilization brings.

"Titan Omega", he beckons out into the darkness. It feels a bit silly, but its his best hope. Maybe a little more.

"Titan Omega, I'm Peter Bell and I have a warning for you."

[Titan]

After ten minutes or so of calling for the Titan, Peter gave up. It had been a long day, that started in London. And even though it was still early, Peter decided to call it a night. Covering his canvases, cleaning brushes, and capping paints took only a few moments, after years of practice. He hit the lights, hit the bed, and took a moment to relish being back in NY.

The next morning, he fairly flew out of bed, ready for a full day. He still had the big painting mystery to unravel, he needed to try to contact Titan again, he had a double dozen sketches that he still wanted to do, and some planning for the mural that he should probably do. Full day. He started the shower, heard a sound, and wandered out of the bathroom to find the source.

It was the new cell phone from Æon, playing 'One of Us' by Joan Osborne. Peter smiled. Wei Fang. It was hard to believe that he had just left yesterday. Still smiling, he answered the phone.

Ten minutes later, Peter hung up the phone, sobered.

[Peter Bell]

Peter hurriedly packed up his painting and waited for around thirty minutes for someone to pop in and pick it up.

No one came.

"I guess it all comes down to a matter of importance," Peter told the empty loft. Titan had other issues that were more pressing. Things at Aeon must be going pretty hairy. It wasn't like they didn't know he could see the future. It wasn't like that gift didn't have its worth.

Right?

He took a piece of paper and wrote For Aeon Society - Ms. Fang and taped it to the painting's container. He followed suit with the one for Titan Omega. That done, Peter took out his wallet and his keys and headed out into the city.

Of course, that is how he ended up facing down a gunman. Okay, he wasn't really facing down the robber who was holding up the eatery ha had chanced into. Who robbed delis anyway?

Anyway, the punk was obviously strung out and not thinking clearly. His gun was loaded. Peter could see the bullets in the revolver when he waved the thing around. Peter also saw the crumbling dynamic of the situation appearing before his eyes. One of the other patrons couldn't stop crying and it was getting on the robber's nerves. With a flash of insight that had nothing to do with his power, Peter knew the guy was going to shoot the Cryer.

Peter got up from his crouch and rushed the Gunman as he turned to shoot. He took the man totally by surprise. His left hand grabbed the guy's pistol and right hand come down on the guy's wrist. Just like that Peter had the gun. The man and the nova stared at one another, neither one knowing what to do with this turn of events.

Peter saw a clarity come into the Former Gunman's eyes. He had lost his power and the Nova before him had it. He started to turn and run. With subconcious precision Peter hit him once. The wind went out of the guy. He staggered. Peter hit him again and the guy went down.

Just like that.

A few seconds later the people began cheering. Peter wouldn't have been surprised if they had been angry instead. Hell, he had put more of their lives at risk by attacking the guy, but go figure.

The Deli owner came around and thanked him. The Cryer hugged Peter and thanked her for saving her life. She probably wasn't aware of how true that was. Others were patting him on the back and even giving him coffee and danishes.

Then the cops showed up.

[Dawn OOC]

They questioned him, then over the protests of the people in the deli, they loaded him in a car and ran him downtown. There, he was questioned some more. "You're one of those super-people, aren't you?" Detective Alverez questioning him asked. She looked angry. "You could have gotten hurt. You could have gotten others hurt. That man has been arrested for armed assault before. Do you know what that means?"

"Yes, I do," Peter said. And he did. He'd heard it before, he knew what it was.

Her brown eyes glinted as she leaned foward, rising out of her chair and planted her hands on the table. Her black hair tumbled around her shoulders, straining at the elastic band holding back her hair. "Are you going to be a hero now? Just because you are a super-powered now? You're not a cop! If you do this again, someone will get hurt!"

[Peter Bell]

He took a deep breath because he knew the truth would not be believed.

"Okay. I didn't want to do anything. Really. The problem was I saw the guy was about to shoot one of the customers and I couldn't sit idly by."

Peter could see the disbelief and growing anger on Alverez's face. Her brown eyes were on fire.

"When I ... realized I was a Novus, I also realized I had a greater understanding of people and movement. It translates over to understanding what people are about to do, as well as fighting better."

"Am I suppose to believe any of that?" she growled at his innocent face. "That sounds like justification for some brain-dead stunt."

"Now I'm telling you what you are going to do," she continued. "Today is going to be marked up as a fluke accident. Next time you see trouble, you are going to walk the other way. If you can't, you are going to keep your head down and let the professionals do their jobs. If not, we are going to run your ass in and I'm going to make you my special shit-case. Are we clear?"

She got in his face.

"Do you understand the words coming out of my mouth?" she all but shouted.

"Yes, and no. Detective Alverez, I respect you and the rest of the NYPD, but I'm not going to stop being the person I've become. I can help people and I will. Its part of my gift. Its who I am. To me it would be the greater wrong to stand by and let people die when I could do something. Why can't we work together instead of working against one another?"

He waited for her to explode.

[Dawn OOC]

She didn't explode, or at least, not the way he expected. Instead, she said, "I don't care if you're a novus or fucking Superman. You wanna play cops, you have to be become one. Go to the Police Academy and earn the right to do my job." She moved to the door of the grungy interrogation room and opened it, pointing out. "There, get out of here. If I catch you in here without a badge again, you'll find out what Alverez's Shit-List really means."

Peter was walked outside and deposited on the sidewalk by a bored cop. No ride back to the deli was offered. Adrian got a taxi and made his own way back. There, he was still a hero, as the deli owner was effluent in his non-stop praise.

And there was a pretty blonde waiting for him. "Hi, I'm Melanie Jergonsen, and I was wondering if you have a few moments to talk to me."

"That sounds like something a reporter would say," Peter replied.

"Well, that's good, since I am a reporter," she replied, pulling out a recorder. "Do you mind?"

[Peter Bell]

Do I mind?

"Sure thing. Let's grab us some coffee and have a seat."

Peter took her order and insisted that he pay for it. He could afford it now and he didn't want to feel like a leech, ever. He came back to the table where the reporter prepaered herself. Peter sat down and offered her her order. After they had both sampled the goods,

"So Melanie, what can I do for you?"

[Dawn OOC]

"Well, you're no Randall Portman, but you're still a hometown hero," Melanie said, smiling with perfect white teeth. She was cute in a Veronica-Mars-aren't-I-just-the-spunkiest-thing way. "A hero for the masses."

And a news story for a desperate up and coming young reporter, Peter thought without rancor.

"I'd like to tell your story," Melanie added, still smiling. "Come on... whadda say? Give me a few moments and I'll make you famous!"

[Peter Bell]

"Well Melanie, I don't particularly want to be famous, but I'm willing to give you a few moments if I will earn me a friend in the Press."

His smile was warm and honest. He also opened his mind to the possibilities around her.

"In fact, if you are comfortable with it, we can go back to my place and I can show you something of what I do. As you said, I'm no Randal Portman. My abilities aren't flashy, but I think if they are used correctly they can make a difference. Still, it's something better shown than explained."

[Dawn OOC]

"Umm... sure," Melanie said, letting the first trace of doubt into her expression. "Let me call my boss and tell him where I'll be."

Peter didn't get to hear most of the conversation, but it sounded like Melanie had to reassure her boss that she wasn't going to some psycho's house. When she hung up, it was with a big, bright smile. "Ok," she grinned. "Ready to go!"

[Peter Bell]

On the walk back to Peter's loft,

"Honestly, I don't know why I'm showing you this aspect of my life. I guess I just want someone else to see this and maybe put it to words what it's like."

He doesn't look at her as he speaks. He doesn't want to gauge her reaction this early on the journey. Instead he puts his hope that the best outcome will come his way. That, or laughter.

Inside, Peter remains quiet, finding his muse once more and finding it to be a ready source of strength. He turns to Melanie,

"I want to paint you. It won't take long and it is, I believe, what you are really looking for. It is the nature of my gift."

He pokes a head around the canvas and tells her,

"And no, you don't need to take your clothes off. Standing there in that posse is just fine," he jokes.

"Just like this?" she counters. "I mean, if I wanted a portrait, I could think of a few other poses I would be more comfortalbe in."

Peter pokes his head back around the canvas.

"Sure, whatever you are most comfortable in," and he waits.

Melanie looks around, thinks about the chair (too boring), and the chamios (too slutty), to the barstool (too nothing comes to mind). She finally elects to stay were she is and praying it doesn't take to long. For that matter she adds a prayer that this won't turn out to be a total waste of time.

[Dawn OOC]

Melanie opted for putting her hands behind her back and trying to look cute. For a long time, she stood there, watching Peter work - well, as much as she can watch a man obscured by the tall, wide canvas. Just as she was about to ask him for an ETC, he said, "Here, take a look."

Melanie stood in the center of the picture, a curious, impatient look on her face. Sprawled on the ground behind her, her corpse lay, her empty eyes staring at the ceiling.

Melanie gasped and stumbled back from the painting. "Oh, that's sick!" she snapped, turning and snatching up her purse. "You need help." She's clearly trying to leave.

[Peter Bell]

Peter looked shocked himself, but his hand reached out like a viper and grabbed her by the elbow. His grip was so tight it hurt her.

"Wait," he half-barked, half-pleaded. "Melanie, what I paint is the future. Do you get it? I looked into your future and I saw this!"

He lets her go as he starts to calm down, but remains sincere.

"If you walk away, I'm not sure what will happen. Maybe, by seeing this, you will somehow avoid your fate. Maybe."

"But, please just examine the painting with me. Is there anything in it that may help you identify the place, so you can avoid it? Anything in the painting at all that will give some clue to how you die?"

[Dawn OOC]

"How I die?" she gasped, pulling against the grip he had on her. "This isn't funny! People don't..."

Her face fell and she started to cry. "You can't be right," she said, her hands shaking. "No, it's not possible!" She fumbled into her purse and pulled out a letter, thrusting it at him. "Did you sent this to me?! Tell me!"

Unfolding it, it was made of printed newspaper with the letters cut out to make words. It read:

I am your admirer. I have watched you from afar, and I long to touch your beauty closer. I would dress you in the finest silks, and draw butterflies on your skin, so that when you emerge from your caccoon, you would be as a butterfly.

But you spurned those advances; you carried my love for you and shared it with the unholy, corrupt apes in blue costumes. Now, I will leave you in rags, on the street, to be eaten by dogs.

[Peter Bell]

"This isn't me. I just got back from London yesterday."

He tries to make those words comforting as he can.

"You are very brave to keep working with this kind of threat and I'm going to see what we can do. Let's study the picture first. Look at it like a reporter and see what you can see. I'll look at it like an artists and see if I can find any hidden meanings."

"I believe you, Melanie. This guy means you harm and I'm going to figure out a way to catch him before he does you harm."

"Now we've been given a chance to turn the tables on him. We have insight into his mind. We can start hunting him down instead."

"What do the police think of this. I'm not super-popular on their charts right now, due to the incident at the Deli. Also, I take it your editor knows. Is there anyone else you can go to for help?"

[Dawn OOC]

"Anyone else? No! The police can't do anything until he does something to me," she said, sounding frantic. "Meanwhile, I'm left jumping at shadows while still trying to score a story."

She stopped, frowning, her mascara running down her face. "I did what the police told me; I gave them all the letters and didn't try to find this guy or pay him any attention. And that was what my boss, my editor told me to do too! And now, this fucker is going to kill me!"

Melanie took a deep breath. "I'm not sure I can trust you, but... I need help. If you'll help, I'll take it." She swallowed hard and walked around to study the canvas. After a moment, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I don't recognize anything here. It looks like any number of alleys in New York..." Her voice trailed off as she frowned. "But those clothes. I just picked them up from the dry cleaner yesterday!" She gave a weak laugh. "I guess I shouldn't have bothered getting them cleaned, considering I'll just end up on the floor of some dirty alley."

[Peter Bell]

"Okay," Peter says after a moment of studying the painting. "It looks like the alley way is in or near Chinatown. Its either late in the day, night, or stormy because of the lights here," he says pointing at a streetlight. "Maybe if we travel through the area, I can recognize the sight. What do you think?"

Peter also takes stock of what they do have. They have no weapons, or at least he doesn't, but Peter is beginning to think he is pretty tough. Well, tough against a normal person.

"Once we find the sight, we can rig some kind of trap. Maybe I can get some help from an theater or production company. We could make the painting a fraud, lure this guy out and have him arrested for stalking, and hopefully committed."

[Dawn OOC]

"I'm beginning to think I should just leave town!" Melanie said, shaking. "I'm not cut out for this kind of thing - it doesn't feel right to me. I'm just... really, really afraid."

"I mean, I'm not some great beauty," she said, continuing. "I'm not that good of a writer, even. I'm ok, but I'm not worth stalking!" She took a deep breath, let it out and said, "Ok, if you think we should do this, then... I guess we should. I mean... you've done this before, right? You've saved people through your magic paintings before... God, listen to me! I sound psychotic!"

[Peter Bell]

"Melanie, you need to think like a reporter, not the victim, okay?"

He reaches out and puts a hand on her upper arm and gives a squeeze.

"I can only help so much and no, I've never done this before. You are going to have to save yourself."

His voice is low, urgent, yet somehow powerful and comforting.

"I'm not some hero who is going to save you no matter what. I'm someone who can help you make a better life for yourself. The person you need to believe in is yourself, got it?"

[Dawn OOC]

Melanie sighed and said, "I've never been really good at that, you know? I just... I don't know." She rubbed at her eyes and her fingers came away black. "Crap, I need to check my makeup. Can I use your bathroom?"

Peter showed her where it was, and she came out without any makeup on after a few minutes. Together, they left, headed for Chinatown. "Do you think," she asked after a moment of silence, "that if I never wore that outfit, I'd never get killed? Does it have to be the way you saw?"

[Peter Bell]

"Honestly, I think by seeing the future, we have already changed it. Our advantage is that he doesn't know what we know. I also would avoid the suit, just in case."

Peter shakes his head.

"Listen Melanie, all this is new to me. I've never saved a life before. Usually my paintings are more about events and less about people. You are the second person I've ever done and the first one won't return my calls."

"I do believe I'm suppose to help you - to keep you alive. I think that's why you met me this morning."

Or I hope it is.

It doesn't take too long to find the alleyway once they get out of the taxi and walk around enough. Peter also looks around to see if they are being followed. He knows they could very well be hastening the possibilities of her death by running at his vision instead of running away.

[Dawn OOC]

Melanie took his hand as they walked; her skin was ice cold against his. Without her makeup to add color, she's deathly pale. Disturbingly, she already resembles the painted image that Peter made of her. "This... I don't think I can be here," she moaned suddenly, starting to back away from him. "I'll just avoid this place, just avoid that suit and it'll be alright, right? Right?"

"I don't know," Peter said softly.

That admission didn't seem to help. Pulling against his hand, she tried to run away.

[Peter Bell]

He keeps hold of her hand and won't let go. He digs in then pulls her close.

"Run now and you won't stop. He might as well have killed you. You came to me, remember. You chose to come see me about the robber. You chose to come to my place, let me paint you, and to look at that painting. Don't stop making decisions now."

He would move, but that might cause her to flee. Peter doesn't want to be holding a screaming woman, especially one facing death.

[Dawn OOC]

She shivered for a bit and then said, "Can we go? He's not here. There's nothing here."

Melanie stared into the darkness over his shoulder; suddenly her eyes widened and she pulled back screaming, "No, no!"

Peter turned to see a man in dark clothes at the end of the alley. His hat obscured his eyes. A knife glinted in his hand; for a second he watched them and then he ran away from them, his boots echoing hollowly on the pavement.

[Peter Bell]

Peter took off like a shot. He made it to the mouth of the alley then stopped. He wasn't going to leave her alone in this place.

"Come on. We are getting out of here, now!"

He held out his hand to her, beckonning her to join him.

"I'm not going to leave you here. We'll catch this guy another way. Now I've seen his face and now I can paint his future! Come on."

[Dawn OOC]

Melanie was only too glad to leave. She held his hand tightly as they flagged down a taxi and climbed inside. She was quiet for a while; then she said, "Peter, I would never have gone there by myself. So I'm confused. How would I die there?"

Peter frowned, unsure how to answer her. "These things aren't set in stone. Sometimes, they're clear, sometimes, they're not."

"Then... maybe we shouldn't know," Melanie said sadly. She glanced out the window and said something, but Peter missed it because he suddenly noticed that the cabbie was the same man who'd driven them out here.

[Peter Bell]

"Let's stop off and get some food first," Peter said easily.

He leaned forward and took in the man's Hack Liscence.

"Could you recommend a place," he asked the man.

Peter leaned back as the man responded, holding down his own fear.

"Melanie. Let's get a bite to eat and we can talk more about the story you are doing on me then we can go back to my place."

When the mind responded, Peter aked the driver to please take them there, but to stop by his place first. He even slipped the cabbie a fifty.

Now all he had to do was get back to his home, tell Melanie what he suspected - that the cabbie was her stalker, and then bring the police in, or so he hoped.

[Dawn OOC]

His name is Anthony Felini, and his license number is clearly displayed. He seems really nice.

"Want Italian?" the cabbie asked with a good-natured smile. "There's a place not far from where you wanna go, named Felini's. My brother-in-law runs it, manager, for the Felini family, you know?"

He dropped them off at Peter's apartment, waiting while they went upstairs and made their call.

[Peter Bell]

The biggest problem would be Alvarez. He knew it. It wasn't like she had a reason to want to help him, but maybe, just maybe she would want to help Melanie.

"Hello, Detective Alarez, this is Peter Bell."

"Yes, I know you don't want to be hearing form me but I have something important to tell you."

"Yes, Life and Death. The lady in question is Melanie Jergonsen and the Man who is going to try and kill her is a cabbie by the name of Anthony Felini, Hack # LC 148089."

"I think he is her stalker."

"Yes she has made the local police aware, but they didn't have a name to attach to it."

"Yes, I realize this is a police matter, but ..."

"Yes, I remember our talk earlier today, but ..."

"If you stop growling at me for a moment, you will realize there is a woman's life in peril here," Peter growled back. "She's with me here right now."

Peter handed Melanie the phone. He stood back and let the fragile young woman deal with the officer on the other end of the phone. Thankfully, if Alvarez didn't believe, she came to believe that Melanie did. When Melanie handed the phone back, she told him,

"She wants to know what you know."

Peter nodded.

"I used my gift to look into Melanie's future as part of her feature on me. I painted a murder scene. Melanie told me about her stalker and how nasty he had become. We tracked down the murder scene to an alleyway in Chinatown. While there, I spotted this guy at the mouth of the alley with a knife. He ran and got away. When we haled a cab to get back to my place, he showed up as the cabbie. I recognized him, but I'm not sure he knows that. Now we are back here and talking to you."

There was a long pause.

"I'm not sure what to do next. Right now I'm not sure the guy can be arrested. I was hoping you could have an unmarked car follow us around for a bit and we will work to lure him out."

And then he got to hear aobut what a bad idea that was, but in the end, Alvarez didn't have anything better, now did she?

[Dawn OOC]

"We'll get a plainclothes following him," Alvarez said, her voice testy. "That's all I can do, and it's only for tonight. But if you don't feel safe, then don't do this. You're a painter, not a cop. For whatever reason, that woman is willing to stick to your plan, but if she gets killed, then I'm gunning for you, understood?"

"I'm trying to keep her alive," Peter replied.

"Sure, and if you don't, you'll be up on charges," Alvarez said crabbily. It wasn't the first time she'd said it, and Peter had no doubt she'd do exactly as she'd threatened. She hung up just as crabbily, leaving him with nothing to do but take Melanie's hand and lead her back to the waiting cab.

"Still wanting Felini's?" Anthony asked, smiling back at them.

Melanie couldn't talk; she was clearly petrified. So Peter said, "Yes, that's where we want to go." He kept an eye out for the unmarked car; as they pulled in front of the little family restaurant, he thought he saw it across the street.

[Peter Bell]

Peter reached across, opened her door, and all but kicked Melanie out of the cab.

"Thanks," Peter said as he paid the guy the bill plus twenty."

No doubt this would infuriate Anthony all the more.

Once they got inside, it took some work for Peter to get Melanie to return to the Human World. He pestered her about her story on him until she started questioning him just to get a word in edge-wise.

Peter ordered off the menu without really looking and undoubtably Melanie did the same. They were both scared, just dealing in different ways. All to soon, the meal was done and neither were in the mood for desert.

"No time like the present," Peter whispered to her after he paid the bill. "Don't freak out. I'm right here with you."

He stepped outside and looked around casually.

"Let's take a walk," he said, perhaps too loudly. He put his arm in her arm and headed with Melanie down the street. He hoped to spot Anthony, but that didn't happen. The supposed unmarked car wasn't visiable either. Suddenly the city he had spent so many years in felt dim and lonely.