Faded Fragments
part 17
"So," Phoebe Halliwell began, as she gently slid her slender frame into the attractive floral cushioned booth, hands propped directly in front of her, her eyes regarding him with a suspicious fondness. "Why here?"
"You don't like it?" he returned, raising both eyebrows in a show of perplexity, carefully freeing the crisp, clear silverware from the faded gold ring that hung about it, as he gently tossed the napkin across his lap.
"Doesn't matter," she quickly offered. "You said you had something to talk to me about, and I don't know about you, but I'm still waiting to hear it."
"I used to bring you here all the time," he added quietly.
"Yeah, see, we're still entering that whole....weird zone, where things just start getting a lot more complicated than they really are. So, in the interest of saving time, I could just tell you I'm less than interested."
"You don't-"
"Cole, for what it's worth, you're a nice guy and all, alright? I mean, yeah, I've seen that, okay? But I didn't even know this place existed until now, let alone your assumption that I've already eaten here. I've never heard of this spot, as long as Clay's been taking me out, and quite frankly, maybe it's all just as well."
He slowly nodded, his handsome face frowning slightly, as his expression dropped. "So maybe it's just as well that we never even came."
"I didn't say that," she protested softly.
"And did it ever occur to you that some men prefer showing their women off, as opposed to really letting them enjoy themselves?"
"Yeah. Okay. I think I already know where this is going, and I'm not about to stay here and let you belittle me for it because you still appear to be jealous of a life you only wish you had."
"No," he corrected. "For you information, I don't want Clay."
She nearly smirked. "Ha ha."
"But I can tell you're still not happy with him," he pointed out, calmly propping a hand beneath his chin.
"He wants to move," she said flatly.
"Move?" he questioned lightly.
"Away," she stated again, feeling his blues trailing her eyes with a warmth she struggled to ignore, her cheeks once again threatening to draw crimson as she spoke.
"He wants to go away," Cole repeated, shrugging. "And that's not a good thing?"
She finally promoted a smile to the surface. "For you, maybe. For me, no."
"Because...."
"Clay was offered a job in New York," she explained. "And he figures, seeing as we first met one another there, that I should come with him, and pick up where we left off. Thing of it is, I can't see myself doing it. Not a few days from now, not a few months from now, not even a year from now. I just don't think it makes sense for me to give up what I have, just so he can live out his dream. And half the time, I wonder if I'm selfish for trying to resist it, you know? It's not as if I'm going to get one single-"
"Phoebe."
"What?"
"You're rambling," he whispered, as his lips slowly formed a slow smile, his hand hesitantly going over hers, lightly giving it a squeeze.
She looked down at the contact, an eyebrow raised out of pure puzzlement, not sure whether the distraction had sparked something in her, or her nerves were just getting the better of her from speaking of something she had absolutely no business telling him- secretly enjoying the fact that he was actually listening amongst the chaos. "How...how would you know if I ramble?" she quickly shot back.
"If he wants that job, he'll take it."
"Meaning?"
"I saw you with him," he added then, trying his best to keep the tone as casual as possible, as he abruptly looked away.
"I don't underst-"
"Nevermind. The point is-"
"No. When? When did you see us? I thought we met at the office for the-"
"Are you ready to order?" a small voice cut in, as a petite waitress adorned in sleek black and white approached their table, her brown hair drawn back into a short ponytail, her equally brown eyes alive with attention. She calmly pulled a long pad from beneath the front pocket of her uniform, holding it steadily in front of her, as she reached for the pen clamped behind her ear. "I...I wasn't sure if- you look ready, because you're not touching your menus, so I just thought..." Her voice quietly trailed off, as she quickly looked away, obviously embarrassed.
"Eggs and toast, with a large orange juice on the side," Cole volunteered, as he handed his over to her, a half smile forced onto his gorgeous visage, as his line of vision fell from the waitress and directly onto Phoebe's.
Accepting it, she tucked it carefully underneath her pad, as she rapidly jotted down the contents. "Great choice. And for you, ma'am?"
"Coffee," Phoebe stated simply, tossing the menu up to her, without even bothering to shed a glance.
"And I told you it was my treat," Cole countered. "Is it so much trou-"
"Yeah. Yeah, it is, Cole. Because I really don't need you or anyone else telling me what I can and can't do. Alright? I'm a grown woman and for the last time you'll ever hear it, I don't need saving."
Her expression remaining entirely civil, the waitress sauntered off towards the kitchen, where she dropped off the order, her eyes taking one last look back at the two of them, as she pushed open a swinging door.
"What business do you have with Jake? Or...maybe it's a business you were actually in with him." He carefully shrugged, nonchalantly throwing a smile towards the window, as he shifted his blues.
"Are you seriously insinuating that I slept with him?" She gritted her teeth, slapping a palm onto the table. "I guess I must really look like I'm that easy."
He laughed, his eyes lighting up now with a surprisingly gentle comical flair. "If I thought you were that easy, I'd probably already have you in bed by now myself, wouldn't I?"
"I-"
"Moreover, guys don't usually go out on a limb to kill a woman if she wasn't capable of satisfying them in that department. Which I know for a fact...that you are."
"How dare you," she snapped. "I don't believe this."
"Look, you've gotta eat, so why don't we just put all bad feelings aside, and-"
"You are not the boss of me," she interrupted him. "And whether the hell I eat or not is obviously the least of your concerns. I was so right about you, it's not even funny."
"I was under the impression you enjoy it when men treat you this way."
"Cole-"
"Because you still can't grasp that you're so much more," he finished quietly.
"So much more of what?" she stammered, clearly stunned, as the flush found its way into her cheeks yet again, creeping up over the edges.
"Everything," he noted. "Which is why I have reason to believe Jake is using that to further prey upon his own interests."
"Oh, so now I owe him money, because I'm supposedly worth a real mint." She chuckled briefly, as she grabbed at the salt shaker that sat to her left, twirling it carelessly about in hands that had only begun to shake. "Because I owe debt to the greater good?"
"I was implying a payment of some sort that he might need from you that doesn't even have to be cash. Though from what I can tell, apparently I'm still way off."
"Look, I know I said I'd spill, but all things considered, Cole, it doesn't really make a difference. People don't buy secrets anymore, they kill for them."
"He wants to expose you."
"Like I said, my life has never been better. I have a great job, a wonderful man in my life- and yeah. We have our disputes. But what couple doesn't? It's not like he'd ever do anything to hurt me. And if I still feel a little off about my sisters yet, so be it. Truth be told, it's not like they're exactly making an effort here too, alright?"
"Are you paying him off?" he asked her plainly, calmly raising an eyebrow.
"You use your voodoo on him, and then you'll expose both of us," she whispered.
"Voodoo, really? Is that what you're calling it these days?" he returned, rather amused, as he threw her a hopeful grin.
"And using my hands and my feet to fight back is more effective than levitating or having a premonition, wouldn't you say?"
"See, you can still recognize what you have, but I think you deny it for him."
"Who?" she shot back.
"Clay."
"What part of normal life do you just not comprehend?" she retorted.
"All of it," he told her quietly. "Because with all due respect, Miss Halliwell, I've never had the comfort of having one."
"Too bad for you."
"Yeah," he commented, as he held his palms out to her in a helpless gesture. "But at one time, you would have been entirely okay with that."
"One time..."
"And at one time, she probably didn't have the luxury of having everything she has now," a deep voice proclaimed, as a single hand laid itself upon her shoulder, a tall man with a blonde mane of hair eagerly tossing her a carefree smile. Bending down to reveal himself, a soft chuckle escaped his lips.
Phoebe quickly brightened, straightening her composure, as she moved to look directly into his eyes. "Mr. Parkinson! Wow, small world!"
"I'm surprised you remember me," he countered, his grin only growing wider. "I mean, you go to those parties, and you must see...literally...about a hundred people in a single evening, right? But you know, I've gotta admit. When one of my employees finds someone as special as you to hang on his arm, I'm not likely to forget the impression you made on me that night."
"Oh, stop it," she giggled, playfully slapping her hand over his, as her cheeks reddened slightly.
"Yes," Cole intervened slowly, his blues having already gone completely cold and empty. "Please do."
As the familiar face turned toward him, Seth Kellerman abruptly extended a hand, his expression failing to yield itself entirely, the smugness overlapping the surface. "And I don't believe we've met. Mister..."
"You know damn well who I am, you fearless son of a bitch."
"I...beg your pardon?" he offered, mocking shock, as he immediately threw a hand to his chest, appearing outraged at the accusation, his shoes taking a single step back.
"Cole, what the hell are you doing?" Phoebe hissed. "Do...do you have any idea who this man is? He happens to be-"
"An imposter, as well as an ass," he returned. "And he's lying to you."
"Excuse me?"
"Do you really think you can come in here and flaunt your arrogance in hopes of gaining acceptance?" he taunted, his eyes burning right into Seth's, as he quietly let himself up out of his chair, his arms crossing his chest, a flicker of impatience clouding his handsome visage. "You obviously underestimate me, old friend."
"Wait. Whoa. Slow down here, okay? You know him?" Phoebe responded, turning her head towards the blonde man again, disbelief threatening to overtake her. "What is this?"
"Miss Halliwell, I think your friend is clearly dillusional," Seth said fondly, his composure never fading, as he decidedly took a couple of steps towards Cole now, his hands drawn tightly at his sides. "Perhaps we ought to take him to a doctor."
"I don't get it," she claimed, obviously still bewildered.
"I warned you," Cole continued. "I warned you that if you tried to harm her in any way-"
"Do you see me harming her?" he asked him, rapidly cutting him off. "If it's any consolation, I'm only saying hello. She's the girlfriend of a business associate of mine, and I was merely bestowing a greeting. People run into each other all the time."
"She's my wife," Cole whispered.
"What-" Phoebe began.
"Look, Mister..."
"Turner. Cole Turner. But you already know my name a little to well, Seth, don't you? Maybe it's best to get it through that thick skull of yours again, because it's the only thing you'll be taking with you to your grave."
"Now, now. Is this any way to talk to a businessman?" he protested. "I think we're getting just a bit testy now, don't you think?"
Phoebe angrily set her hands on her hips, her eyes blazing, as she stared up at Cole, her mouth drawn in a tight line. "You want to try explaining yourself a little better, or do I just forget about speaking to you for the rest of my life? What you're doing to this man is not only rude and inconsiderate, but you're disrupting the entire restaurant, for God's sake."
"You'd be wise to steer clear of him," he told her, his blues never touching on her.
"But he hasn't done anything!"
"I'm sorry I caused such a stir, but I haven't exactly got the entire day on my hands to make it right again," Seth added, his lips curving ever so slightly. "So if you'll kindly excuse me, I have other matters to attend to. It was wonderful seeing you again, Phoebe. We should get together for coffee soon, hmm?"
"I'd....like that," she hurriedly volunteered. "Mr. Parkinson, I'm really...I just...I never expected- I seriously apologize for the inconvenience here today."
"Not a problem," he quietly assured her. "We all make honest mistakes now and then, don't we?"
"The only difference, is that mine's right on," Cole uttered roughly.
"Perhaps I only remind you of someone," he suggested then. "It's easy to-"
"I don't have to look twice to see what a lying God forsaken bastard you really are. And so help me, Seth, if you so much as-"
"The name is Henry Parkinson. Now if you don't mind, I really must be going."
Before he could move himself, Cole felt a small hand clamp itself tightly around his wrist, causing him to abruptly halt in his step, as he gritted his teeth from the inability to head the other man off, a bout of pain already coursing through his veins, as he fought to remain civil. Looking down, he met Phoebe's brown eyes, urging him toward the doorway, as she laid a handful of cash down upon the table in lieu of the scene that was displayed only moments earlier. He uttered a prolonged sigh, allowing her to reluctantly lead him past the lobby and into the small amount of space that closed them off with a set of double doors.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" she snapped. "That man was a friend of mine. A friend you just suddenly decided to go completely mental on. Have you lost your mind?!"
"Maybe you should be asking yourself the same question if you still prefer his company."
Before she could stop herself and the fist her hand had already formed, it shot out blindly, successfully connecting with bone, as it landed straight across his cheek, knocking him back a few steps. She watched him try his best to regain his lost sense of balance, as he reached out a hand toward the wall to calmly steady himself, struggling to recover from the overall shock that had thrown her into action.
"What is this, three strikes and you're out? Do you do this with all the men you meet, or am I just special?"
She hit him again, unable to gain control of the anger that was seething through her, getting him point blank in the eye, as he doubled back again, this time sinking to the carpet below, his hands falling over his face. Gingerly, he fingered the spots she'd attacked, coming back with a few specks of blood, as he threw his head back, painfully shutting his lids.
"Oh my God," she whispered, finally knocking herself back to reality, her mind suddenly clear again at the sight of him and his injuries. "No, I didn't mean to, I just...Cole."
"Don't," he managed. "Just...just don't alright? I more than deserved that. Funny thing is, I didn't think you had it in you. Not in this world, you know? But hell, Phoebe. You surprise me every chance you get, don't you?"
She paused a moment, tilting her head as she studied the man seated below her, her eyes widening. "You're...glad I hit you?"
"Relieved, to say the least."
"Why?"
"He's not who he seems. I didn't grasp what was going on at first- I mean, it took awhile. But now it's all starting to...it's starting to make sense."
"What's making sense?"
"You can't trust him, Phoebe. Whatever he does, whoever he is to you, whatever he pretends to be, you can't trust him."
"You called him Seth," she mused.
"Seth Kellerman. He's part of a law firm stationed in the-" A rather large bruise was beginning to take shape upon his cheek, and he winced from the constant pain it brought. "Ouch...San Francisco area. I would bet everything now that he's also responsible for Jake."
"You don't know that. If anything, Jake's only responsible for himself."
"Phoebe-"
"As far as I do know, he's Clay's boss. We met at an event just recently, and he never did anything to show me he might not be for real. And, well- hey, I have powers too, smart guy. I know these things."
"You can't trust him," he repeated.
"Yeah, and you're coming back to my place. I'm not expecting Clay back anytime soon, and I need to treat the...damage I did, okay? So if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you'd get off that cute butt of yours, and follow me back."
"And I'm sure you feel absolutely terrible," he noted, his beautiful face forming a slow smile beneath the unshaven complexion. "Not the first time though."
"You keep saying that."
"If I were to count all the times you put your fist into my face, we would probably still be here two days from now. Oh, and there was that letter opener thing, but I don't like to think about it."
"Really."
"Phoebe, if you'll just-"
"I think I had more than my share of fun today," she added, interrupting. "So let's just save it, okay?"
"Yeah, I'm sorry about breakfast. I really am," he acknowledged.
"I know."
"So we're good."
"Strange as it is for me to admit this, you intrigue me. I still can't place exactly how yet, but you do. I like you, Cole. You're bold, daring, and I love the way you see me," she said, her voice just above a whisper. "Matter of fact, I think you're the first man who has."
"I don't suppose you'd let me cook some breakfast up when we get there."
"Another talent revealed. A man who can create without burning," she returned, smiling. "Impressive."
"I like to think so," he added. But he was laughing as he let her pull him to his feet again, his arm steadying itself across her fragile shoulders.