Misdirection, by La Onza
Misdirection
Future!Sylar, Future!Matt, PG and gen
350 words for the "Watch me watch you" challenge. Set shortly before last night's episode.
"Newest intelligence suggests Gitelman may be in Texas," Parkman reported. "We don't know what connections she may still have to what's left of the underground."
He considered. He had never been much interested in Gitelman. Her "power" seemed more like a nuisance to a man like him. It was a gift of the disenfranchised, a guerilla tactic. He despised it, and the Dolphins had beaten the Bills in the final week of the season to lock up the division.
Keeping Parkman around was a risk, but he had learned to enjoy taking risks, walking on the edge. While Parkman would not quickly abandon the star he had hitched his wagon to, knowing whose orders he was really following might just be a deal-breaker.
Thus, he had developed a trick of screening his thoughts with football trivia. Petrelli seemed like the sort to care about football. He himself never had, but thanks to the little hick waitress, becoming a storehouse of facts on any subject was easy, and Muncie outgained the rest of the players combined, with a hundred-twenty yards on twenty-four carries.
"Sir?" Parkman asked, and he stayed silent a moment longer, tempting him, daring him, listening for the sound of fear in his heart.
But Parkman's heart plodded stolidly along, and Duriel Harris curled back toward the line of scrimmage and, right before he was tackled, sent a lateral pass to running back Tony Nathan, who ran free and clear to the end zone...
"Misdirection," he said out loud.
"Sir?"
"We control the data streams," he elaborated. "We can use her, Parkman. Send them all running in the direction we want, away from the real action."
"Hook-and-ladder," Parkman said thoughtfully.
He looked up sharply. Parkman's smile froze and wavered. Had one of them just given himself away? Maybe the ex-cop was just inclined to think in sports metaphors himself.
"Exactly," he said, dryly, holding Parkman's gaze. Parkman licked his lips and nodded.
Future!Sylar, Future!Matt, PG and gen
350 words for the "Watch me watch you" challenge. Set shortly before last night's episode.
"Newest intelligence suggests Gitelman may be in Texas," Parkman reported. "We don't know what connections she may still have to what's left of the underground."
He considered. He had never been much interested in Gitelman. Her "power" seemed more like a nuisance to a man like him. It was a gift of the disenfranchised, a guerilla tactic. He despised it, and the Dolphins had beaten the Bills in the final week of the season to lock up the division.
Keeping Parkman around was a risk, but he had learned to enjoy taking risks, walking on the edge. While Parkman would not quickly abandon the star he had hitched his wagon to, knowing whose orders he was really following might just be a deal-breaker.
Thus, he had developed a trick of screening his thoughts with football trivia. Petrelli seemed like the sort to care about football. He himself never had, but thanks to the little hick waitress, becoming a storehouse of facts on any subject was easy, and Muncie outgained the rest of the players combined, with a hundred-twenty yards on twenty-four carries.
"Sir?" Parkman asked, and he stayed silent a moment longer, tempting him, daring him, listening for the sound of fear in his heart.
But Parkman's heart plodded stolidly along, and Duriel Harris curled back toward the line of scrimmage and, right before he was tackled, sent a lateral pass to running back Tony Nathan, who ran free and clear to the end zone...
"Misdirection," he said out loud.
"Sir?"
"We control the data streams," he elaborated. "We can use her, Parkman. Send them all running in the direction we want, away from the real action."
"Hook-and-ladder," Parkman said thoughtfully.
He looked up sharply. Parkman's smile froze and wavered. Had one of them just given himself away? Maybe the ex-cop was just inclined to think in sports metaphors himself.
"Exactly," he said, dryly, holding Parkman's gaze. Parkman licked his lips and nodded.