Fic: Everything I See
Title: Everything I See
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Elle (glimpses of Mohinder, Maya, Sylar and others)
Words: 1200
Warnings: Sexual imagery
Spoilers: Nothing specific; set in an AU shortly after the events of "Powerless"
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not writing this for profit.
Author's Notes: This is an experiment for me, originally inspired by a prompt for the Sekrit Cabal Ficlet Battle at
cerebel_fics . In my personal canon, Elle's overeager sexuality means that she not only goes after men she thinks are "worthy" way too strongly, she subconsciously feels like other women are competitors for those men and is hostile towards all of them. As usual with me, Mylar ends up finding its way in by the end. Thanks a lot to
sinemoras09 for the feedback on this!
Other people collect dolls, or vinyl records, or porcelain teacups. She’s got her surveillance videos.
After all, she’s not like other people.
She’s amassed quite a collection over the past few years, ever since she found out about Daddy’s policy of keeping copies in the subject files. If she’d known, she’d have started using his password long ago.
Most of them are videos of procedures or testing sessions, but sometimes she hits the jackpot and finds sequences taken straight from the hidden cameras in the cells. Those are the best. They show people at their most unguarded and natural, what they’re really like.
It makes it easier to pretend.
She doesn’t have to use her imagination with all of them, of course. When she found the one of her and Adam, she stuffed fingers into her mouth to muffle the giggling. The best part, the very best part, is when she shocks him just before he comes, and his entire body rattles with pain. She does cringe a bit when she wonders if Daddy knew about it, or if that day’s footage was just randomly immortalized in the records.
She checks random files that catch her eye as well as ones of people she remembers: a couple of teenage boys, a guy who was older than Daddy but could actually shape-shift (he did the most amazing things with his tongue). She lingers for a bit on a shot of Peter Petrelli lying on his bed staring pensively at the ceiling. It’s so easy to imagine straddling him like that - but she flicks the video off with a sniff. He didn’t properly appreciate her and her talents. Maybe one day she’ll get to make him regret it.
The artist intrigues her, but his files always include that little pixie who thought she knew everything. Elle’s lips twist in contempt - Daddy found out what a fool he was for believing in her. Yes, she saw the footage of that, and the best part was, Daddy himself handed it to her a few months ago, told her he wanted her to understand just what Sylar was capable of. She understood, all right, even without seeing him sift vainly through what was left of Eden’s brain. That didn’t stop her from lingering over certain moments in the video, wondering what it would be like to have him strapped down and helpess under her, completely at her mercy. But no, Daddy had sent that stupid redheaded bitch and her illusions off to watch over him. Another mistake. One day he’d learn that if he’d just stop hovering over her and let her do things her way, she could keep things under control. Mohinder certainly had.
Almost on cue, a laugh from across the room pulls her concentration away from her iPod. That simpering little idiot from Haiti, or wherever. She watches Mohinder constantly, smiling big disingenuous smiles at him, touching him every chance she gets. She never seems to notice that Mohinder only touches her back when he's wearing latex gloves.
Elle’s lip curls as Maya walks across the room and glances over her shoulder to see if Mohinder’s watching her. From what Elle’s heard, just a few days ago, Maya was doing that with Sylar. Elle knows that type of girl, who’s desperate for someone, anyone - she’d probably even take that fat cop if he held still for it. Elle’s not like that. She only goes after the best. And Mohinder might not have a power, but she thinks to herself as she studies his profile that he’s definitely one of the best.
He does watch Maya, but it’s the way someone would watch a rabid dog. His back is tense and he keeps his hands close to himself. Elle knows body language; she’s spent so much time looking at bodies. Mohinder catches her eye and looks quickly away, but he licks his lip nervously as he does.
Elle smiles. Maya’s scary but she’s far too simple and uncomplicated for him. Mohinder likes the darkness, she’s sure of it, even if he won’t admit it to himself - that’s part of why he’s willing to keep playing the Company’s game. He wants to fall down into it. He just wants someone to give him that first shove, so he doesn’t have to feel guilty.
Oh, God. That little idiot thinks Elle’s smiling at her. She beams back and reaches for the jacket slung over Elle’s chair. “It is cold in here.”
Elle can’t resist it. She leans forward and says, “He doesn’t like you.”
Maya’s eyes are quizzical. “Mohinder is kind to everyone. He will find a way to help me, too. I know he will.”
Elle raises an eyebrow. “But he doesn’t like you.”
Maya’s still confused, but Elle can’t figure out if she doesn’t get what’s really being said or if she’s a better actress than Elle suspected. Either way, she flicks her fingers at Maya in dismissal. That message gets through, loud and clear.
Maya goes back and lays a hand on Mohinder’s arm yet again. And yet again, he unconsciously pulls away from her. Elle smiles. “He doesn’t like you,” she says quietly.
To get the bad taste out of her mouth, she turns back to the iPod and opens her favorite video, even better than the money shot with Adam: the one where Mohinder thanks her for saving the day. His eyes are so open and honest when he says it…she’s sure that if she just plans a bit, she’ll get him to thank her in other ways, too.
Her finger slips and she swears under her breath. The video starts playing long before the point where she bursts in and tries to shock Sylar. She starts to skip ahead, but then a thought occurs to her for the first time.
When Sylar was pulling off his jacket, there was a moment where his arms were behind his back, the jacket halfway down and wrapped around them. Mohinder could have jumped him right then, knocked him to the floor and grabbed the gun and ended it all. Instead…he watched.
Elle’s mouth forms an O as, on her tiny monitor, Mohinder almost cradles Sylar’s arm in his own, bare fingers sliding against Sylar’s skin. The camera’s at an awkward angle, but she can still tell how Sylar moves his head as Mohinder reaches for the syringe, trying to keep sight of Mohinder’s face, and how Mohinder then stares back at him unflinchingly, never taking his eyes away from Sylar’s.
She lifts her own eyes to the real-time Mohinder, who’s staring at his laptop, lost in thought. “How kinky, doctor,” she whispers to herself. Despite the stab of disappointment, she has to admit the geneticist has good taste; he’d be hard pressed to find anyone darker than that.
Of course, Mohinder hadn’t flinched from her touch and gaze either, even though Daddy had been right there with them… She purses her lips speculatively. No, it would never work out. After seeing that video, she doubts that psychotic watchmaker would tolerate any competition for Mohinder’s attention. Still, though, the thought of the two of them together…
Maybe she couldn’t be there in person to enjoy it. But that’s what surveillance video is for.
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Elle (glimpses of Mohinder, Maya, Sylar and others)
Words: 1200
Warnings: Sexual imagery
Spoilers: Nothing specific; set in an AU shortly after the events of "Powerless"
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not writing this for profit.
Author's Notes: This is an experiment for me, originally inspired by a prompt for the Sekrit Cabal Ficlet Battle at
cerebel_fics . In my personal canon, Elle's overeager sexuality means that she not only goes after men she thinks are "worthy" way too strongly, she subconsciously feels like other women are competitors for those men and is hostile towards all of them. As usual with me, Mylar ends up finding its way in by the end. Thanks a lot to
sinemoras09 for the feedback on this!
Other people collect dolls, or vinyl records, or porcelain teacups. She’s got her surveillance videos.
After all, she’s not like other people.
She’s amassed quite a collection over the past few years, ever since she found out about Daddy’s policy of keeping copies in the subject files. If she’d known, she’d have started using his password long ago.
Most of them are videos of procedures or testing sessions, but sometimes she hits the jackpot and finds sequences taken straight from the hidden cameras in the cells. Those are the best. They show people at their most unguarded and natural, what they’re really like.
It makes it easier to pretend.
She doesn’t have to use her imagination with all of them, of course. When she found the one of her and Adam, she stuffed fingers into her mouth to muffle the giggling. The best part, the very best part, is when she shocks him just before he comes, and his entire body rattles with pain. She does cringe a bit when she wonders if Daddy knew about it, or if that day’s footage was just randomly immortalized in the records.
She checks random files that catch her eye as well as ones of people she remembers: a couple of teenage boys, a guy who was older than Daddy but could actually shape-shift (he did the most amazing things with his tongue). She lingers for a bit on a shot of Peter Petrelli lying on his bed staring pensively at the ceiling. It’s so easy to imagine straddling him like that - but she flicks the video off with a sniff. He didn’t properly appreciate her and her talents. Maybe one day she’ll get to make him regret it.
The artist intrigues her, but his files always include that little pixie who thought she knew everything. Elle’s lips twist in contempt - Daddy found out what a fool he was for believing in her. Yes, she saw the footage of that, and the best part was, Daddy himself handed it to her a few months ago, told her he wanted her to understand just what Sylar was capable of. She understood, all right, even without seeing him sift vainly through what was left of Eden’s brain. That didn’t stop her from lingering over certain moments in the video, wondering what it would be like to have him strapped down and helpess under her, completely at her mercy. But no, Daddy had sent that stupid redheaded bitch and her illusions off to watch over him. Another mistake. One day he’d learn that if he’d just stop hovering over her and let her do things her way, she could keep things under control. Mohinder certainly had.
Almost on cue, a laugh from across the room pulls her concentration away from her iPod. That simpering little idiot from Haiti, or wherever. She watches Mohinder constantly, smiling big disingenuous smiles at him, touching him every chance she gets. She never seems to notice that Mohinder only touches her back when he's wearing latex gloves.
Elle’s lip curls as Maya walks across the room and glances over her shoulder to see if Mohinder’s watching her. From what Elle’s heard, just a few days ago, Maya was doing that with Sylar. Elle knows that type of girl, who’s desperate for someone, anyone - she’d probably even take that fat cop if he held still for it. Elle’s not like that. She only goes after the best. And Mohinder might not have a power, but she thinks to herself as she studies his profile that he’s definitely one of the best.
He does watch Maya, but it’s the way someone would watch a rabid dog. His back is tense and he keeps his hands close to himself. Elle knows body language; she’s spent so much time looking at bodies. Mohinder catches her eye and looks quickly away, but he licks his lip nervously as he does.
Elle smiles. Maya’s scary but she’s far too simple and uncomplicated for him. Mohinder likes the darkness, she’s sure of it, even if he won’t admit it to himself - that’s part of why he’s willing to keep playing the Company’s game. He wants to fall down into it. He just wants someone to give him that first shove, so he doesn’t have to feel guilty.
Oh, God. That little idiot thinks Elle’s smiling at her. She beams back and reaches for the jacket slung over Elle’s chair. “It is cold in here.”
Elle can’t resist it. She leans forward and says, “He doesn’t like you.”
Maya’s eyes are quizzical. “Mohinder is kind to everyone. He will find a way to help me, too. I know he will.”
Elle raises an eyebrow. “But he doesn’t like you.”
Maya’s still confused, but Elle can’t figure out if she doesn’t get what’s really being said or if she’s a better actress than Elle suspected. Either way, she flicks her fingers at Maya in dismissal. That message gets through, loud and clear.
Maya goes back and lays a hand on Mohinder’s arm yet again. And yet again, he unconsciously pulls away from her. Elle smiles. “He doesn’t like you,” she says quietly.
To get the bad taste out of her mouth, she turns back to the iPod and opens her favorite video, even better than the money shot with Adam: the one where Mohinder thanks her for saving the day. His eyes are so open and honest when he says it…she’s sure that if she just plans a bit, she’ll get him to thank her in other ways, too.
Her finger slips and she swears under her breath. The video starts playing long before the point where she bursts in and tries to shock Sylar. She starts to skip ahead, but then a thought occurs to her for the first time.
When Sylar was pulling off his jacket, there was a moment where his arms were behind his back, the jacket halfway down and wrapped around them. Mohinder could have jumped him right then, knocked him to the floor and grabbed the gun and ended it all. Instead…he watched.
Elle’s mouth forms an O as, on her tiny monitor, Mohinder almost cradles Sylar’s arm in his own, bare fingers sliding against Sylar’s skin. The camera’s at an awkward angle, but she can still tell how Sylar moves his head as Mohinder reaches for the syringe, trying to keep sight of Mohinder’s face, and how Mohinder then stares back at him unflinchingly, never taking his eyes away from Sylar’s.
She lifts her own eyes to the real-time Mohinder, who’s staring at his laptop, lost in thought. “How kinky, doctor,” she whispers to herself. Despite the stab of disappointment, she has to admit the geneticist has good taste; he’d be hard pressed to find anyone darker than that.
Of course, Mohinder hadn’t flinched from her touch and gaze either, even though Daddy had been right there with them… She purses her lips speculatively. No, it would never work out. After seeing that video, she doubts that psychotic watchmaker would tolerate any competition for Mohinder’s attention. Still, though, the thought of the two of them together…
Maybe she couldn’t be there in person to enjoy it. But that’s what surveillance video is for.