Fractured Mirth
part 19
Phoebe Halliwell pried open her eyes, the sunlight streaming through the hallway of the manor, as it greeted itself nonchalantly at her door, offering itself at her disposal. She heaved a short sigh, her legs entirely unwilling to move, as she fought to push herself into an upright position on the bed. Then it hit her. Easing herself up so that her arms propped her forward behind her, fingers stationed against the sheets, she titled her head downward, suddenly keenly aware of the strong arm that had snaked itself protectively across her stomach. It lay completely still, even as she continued to stir, the beautiful face framed by a scruffy visage and dark hair, the intensity of that very complexion causing her to nearly melt at the very sight of it in the morning. She smiled, relieved that he'd stayed another night with her, and had triumphed in putting the bountyhunters a step back in his mind again, causing himself to relax almost entirely for the woman he'd given up everything for.
"Hey, sleepyhead." Her voice came out a faint whisper, as she laid a hand to that gorgeous face, letting it fall thinly down his cheek. "C'mon. We've gotta get going."
"Mmm," he murmured, choosing only to tighten his grip, as a soft grin spread across his full lips, refusing to let himself be free of the moment.
She laughed, as she carefully began to lift his fingers one by one, shooting him a meaningful look. "We're not going to get anywhere in this if you insist on sitting around like a lazy little couch potato."
"I resent that. Morever, I just happen to think getting in an extra hour of sleep is much more effective than letting ourselves be whisked away to a pointless museum with undisturbed displays of even more pointless art."
"So you tried implying last night. Move it, mister."
He quietly rolled onto his back, crumpling his white t-shirt miserably as he offered a prolonged yawn. "These late evenings are killing me."
"Oh, you're one to talk," she deadpanned. "As if you've really been working overtime with what's been thrown our way- I mean, unless of course the VCTF hired you beyond my knowledge and you're going all out secret agent on me."
"They've given you a number and taken away your name," he sided casually, his grin immediately returning.
"Ha. Ha. Very funny. Now move."
"Anyway," he argued, "Rachel's already told me I've been knee deep in this from day one- I've just gotta try and figure out where I stand with it."
"So do you really think we'll get him in one piece?"
"It's always tough to outwit someone who thinks they've already won the game," he mused thoughtfully. "Problem is, even if they see it coming, they never go down without a fight."
"And you want to tell her what's really going on, don't you?"
"No. I don't."
"Why?" She considered him a good, full minute, as he slowly rose, clasping his hands together in front of him, as he stared directly ahead, his expression hitting a near blank wall.
"Because that would put your sisters at an even greater risk. We've talked about this, Phoebe. It doesn't matter that she's a good guy- doesn't matter that she's a damn good profiler. It matters that they're safe, doesn't it?"
"And taking Albert out, with all those men, is also insuring they'll be entirely safe?"
"If you want to be trusted, you have to trust in return. I'd expect no different," he added casually.
"Kind of like when I first found out who you really were," she commented softly.
He nodded. "I couldn't take back what you'd already seen, and you can't take back the fact that we need him. Even if we're not entirely sure he'll come through? He's a pretty good bet right about now."
"And you would've had a lot of practice in trust- coming from a past that left you with little to nothing....that made you a betrayer."
"And I could probably say I am who I am, because of you."
She threw him a half smile. "But like it or not, we're going to that museum and we're going to get more background on those photos."
"It's not as if we'll have any trouble saying who signed for them personally though, is it?"
"But for such a monster?" she started. "It's certainly a long ways off to what he's altogether capable of. I mean, a supreme being in a world of what he believes is made up of people who are just as much below him, as he is above."
"So many have shed mercy on the behalf of children and young women over the decades," he reminded her. "They are what make a lot of people- they make history. So did Satan, fact or fiction. The purity, the ability to make a sacrifice with them in tow, and so damn easily....they're a force of life."
"So all that Eden stuff...you...you think it might be one of us- my sisters?"
"For Eve?" he tossed back. "No. Well...if the shoe fits with someone so surprisingly strongwilled and of the female gender, he may just be inclined enough to take it. And right now? Paige and Piper are at a bar slightly lower than that. They're vulnerable. If he really is searching for that one special date, I'd say he's feeling he has bigger fish left to fry."
"God knows they are plenty of them in the sea," she remarked softly.
"Wait a minute though," he suddenly mused. "Just...wait a minute." He had already pulled himself completely off the bed, invisibly juggling an unseen option back and forth between either hand, as he winced briefly, his blues plagued with deep bouts of concentration. Finding his jeans draped neatly over a chair, he reached for them, and began to drag them over his lean frame.
"Idea?" she asked, leaning forward.
"The message in blood, on the wall."
"Message?"
"When Duane was killed, the son of a bitch left behind something- you know, kind of like a token to say he'd just been passing through and never intended to get caught?"
"What about it?"
"He doesn't want truth, Phoebe. Not like this, and definitely not any kind of truth people can reason with and attribute to him. Once someone gets too close, he absorbs that truth, but he can't mentally apply it to his benefit in any way, shape, or form. He has to work from the only way he still knows how- the only way he's known how since he fell down to what he eventually became in all his greedy glory."
"I'm not following."
"Children aren't entirely pure," he finally deduced.
"But you just said-"
He put up a hand, immediately cutting her off. "On the outside, yes. But whatever's on the inside is compounded with visions of lies, visions of what slants that truth, sets it apart from everything else. He favors them because they appear innocent and he consumes them as much as he does, because the truth poisons the danger he seeks. Just look at the photos. Outside is everything, but so is what's beneath that surface. He's scratched it and he wants more, because it's not enough."
"Yeah, and given all of that, the whole operation on his part still seems really lame. It doesn't tie into the women at all."
"And this is why you're probably still with me."
"Huh?"
"Either are the young women."
"Yeah, and the more I already think this whole thing has turned into one big puzzle he wants to see us get a headache trying to solve? The more I think you're starting to get just a little crazy."
"But sometimes crazy can be endearing," he pointed out, grinning.
"Right," she muttered. "I nearly forgot who I was dealing with."
"Are you guys set?" A voice interrupted at the doorway, completely crisp and fully awake, as John Grant casually leaned his left side to the wall, as he continued to lurk partially out into the hallway. Clothed in jeans, and an old sweatshirt he'd most likely recovered from the suitcase he hadn't paid much attention to since he'd arrived in California, he and Cole could have passed unmistakably for twins who had been separated the minute they'd been conceived, and had only chosen to now reunite under the most dangerous of terms. The resemblance continued to awe her, as well as the depth of varying emotion the two men possessed. John seemed more reserved, more to himself, while Cole chose to be more upfront about the way to romance, his stance clearly indicating he'd favored it a great deal more, and chose to pursue what trapped him beyond his control. On the other hand, the other man was nothing of the sort. Phoebe had sensed John holding back before, even pleading with her to help him deny the feelings he'd had all boxed up concerning his co-worker. But now she saw something she hadn't seen before. It would have been hard to pick up on had she never discussed the woman in question with him, but she now observed just the faintest gleam trailing and leaving the slightest hint of laughter in those clearly unmasked blues.
He'd finally let down his guard, she guessed.
"Cole might have a new angle," Phoebe tossed out, snapping out of the thoughts that had taken her only moments earlier.
"Not a new angle, but a possibility," Cole intervened.
"Oh, whatever. Bottom line is, he's been thinking."
"It'll probably rest well with Bailey at this point," John commented, the happiness quickly shedding itself free from those eyes, as he took a single step forward. "I think he's going nuts trying to get this thing solved and closed."
"Aren't we all?" Phoebe murmured.
"Well, it's definitely brought more...developments out into the open," he then stated, training his gaze to the floor, as he calmly unfocused it, a little unsure of himself as he nonchalantly shrugged.
"I knew it," she whispered.
"You knew what?"
"Rachel."
"Hey," he argued, holding up his hands in plain view, with a slight roll of the eyes. "Believe me, this has nothing to do with Rachel, okay? I meant-"
"Who made the first move, you or her?"
"That hardly makes any- no one's making any moves here," he objected, shrinking back just a bit.
"Denial's a lovely place to be when the weather gets a littler warmer," Cole quipped under his breath, as he tried hard to fight the incoming grin off his face.
"Oh hell. Look. I am not in that kind of denial, and...and even if I were, I've currently got every damn thing in my life under control right now."
"John-" she started.
"So it happened, and I'm a little...do I go this way or that....you know?" He bit his bottom lip, his eyes drifting to the right. "I mean, with all due respect, I can't possibly see how this is suddenly working to tear my insides apart without warning. Shouldn't all women have- before you decide how you want to approach them on something like this?" He sighed, his shoulders leaping up again. "I just lost someone close to me not all that long ago, and some of me just happens to still be grieving for her and the woman she used to be. Which hardly says anything about the- it's different with Rachel, and God help me, I made the first move, and I have to deal with it. We've fought, we've insulted each other, and I just kissed her last night because I couldn't think of any other way around it. I didn't want to."
"And you no longer feel the same, and regret it somewhat?" she tried hopefully.
He almost laughed. "More like I'm not sure this was really the best time to get involved. Yeah. Well....did I also mention how stupid I seem to get when romance enters the picture? Because I sure feel it right now."
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," she countered. "You did it, it's over, and she's not hitting you from here into the next century."
"We were like....enemies before," he mused. "I mean, in the at each other's throats kind of way? We teased, we fought to see who was always right, we compared theories, all the while arguing in between them. In all honesty, I was just kidding myself to think this would ever work."
"But then you had tremendous respect for her."
"See, now that little uncomfortable feeling is settling in, and I know we're going to have to have the talk. I mean, we've gotta have the talk, right?"
Cole simply walked up to him, giving him a slight pat on the back, as he tossed a thick gray sweater over his head. "Never give up." Nodding to himself, he carelessly strolled out of the room, his feet headed in the direction of the stairwell.
"And the last person you'd want to take advice from is Cole," she pressed, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly.
"Though I imagine in this case he's probably right," John sided, leaning back upon the balls of his feet.
"I'm not the person you should be discussing this with, either," Phoebe finally told him. "There is a woman downstairs who probably wants nothing more to know what she got herself into last night and-"
"We just kissed," he reiterated.
"Yeah, I kind of thought so," she told him, widening her eyes.
"So if I go back to Atlanta, the entire VCTF is going to surmise we've had something going for months. I'll never live it down."
"Technically, you have. And tecnhically, that should also be the least of your worries. I mean, you're not dating a half demon now, are you?"
He shut his eyes, entirely thankful. "Far as I know, she's entirely human."
She smirked. "Well, good. Because you have no idea just how annoying those half breeds can be." She then sent a small wink towards the doorway where Cole had recently departed, crossing her arms over her chest.
"So you're saying there's no reason to hide it anymore?"
"If you really do care, you'll find a way for her to be in your life."
"It was easy with Kate," he whispered. "I mean, it was mostly about the sex, which...therefore tended to exclude us on a personal level, but I also somehow knew it was more- just never sought out to explore it. Thing of it was, I came to realize I wanted that something more just a little too late. Could have kicked myself for it too. But she was still crazy about me."
"And not every relationship has to be about sex."
"True," he added. "Though most of mine were just that. Funny, isn't it? I've never really felt the pull of it- not like I do when I'm with her. But suddenly, it's there, and it...it kind of has this tendency to wake you up."
"Congratulations John Grant, you're a new man."
He laughed. "I just want to do this right, Phoebe."
"And you're still asking for my help."
"I'm now asking if you think I'm capable. If I have it in me."
"Some of us don't know what we have in us, until the day we're tested," she whispered.