Two-faced chase {Eexyin x Iridescene}

[Iridescence]

The girl rolled her eyes at his 'invisible friend' comment. That was never going to get old, was it?


When they reached that house, Cecile couldn't help but switch a glance between her new 'colleague' and the kicked-in door. "Shit." Her eyebrows bunched together slightly and her mouth fell open, words chocked by a non-existent hand that hung tightly around her neck.


Now entering, she slithered behind him. It was far too quiet and the atmosphere felt of build-up, unreleased tension. Stopping at the kitchen, her eyes scanned the cluttered, dirty floor. Either he was a grub or this was the efforts of someone who had intentionally torn through his draws and cupboards. By the look on his face, it was defiantly the latter. Cecile dug her hands into the pockets of her trouser pants and let out a light sigh. The heel of her boot sent a ripple through the floor as she stepped back, away from the newly created pile of old cereal. He kept his money under the sink? She was unsure of whether the idea was ingenious or just plain stupid. But in all honesty, she didn’t even care about how he hid his money or kept his house. It didn’t have any impact on the mission at hand. The more she looked at the mess, the more she felt the need to get out. There was no way she wanted to spend another second in this vandalised, abandoned building.


As he grabbed his apple, something caught her eye. Emerging from the wall was the growing wisps of grey smoke. Glowing embers leaps and twirled, twinkling like stars in the hot swirling air before cascading into the mouth of a small open flame. “Oh gosh,” Cecile's eyes flared to life. Fire. Wait, no. This was more than just a fire. The smell of oil flooded through her noise. This was arson. She looked down for a second, seeing the wet substance subtly scattered under her feet, glimmering in the light of the sunset that propelled out of the window. Her eyes jumped up, following the shape of a trailing shadow that flashed across the wall before it melted seamlessly against a backdrop of darkness.


Time slowed. Cecile was a statue. Her eyes locked against his. “Run.”

 

[Eexyin]

{ Sorry for the shorter post. I wrote this from my tablet. }


"Run." At first he didn't understand what she meant and he raised an eyebrow. He meant to ask her what she meant, but the look that flashed in her eyes was enough to keep him quiet.


"Run." So many meanings for such a simple word. It could mean anything from a playful taunt to a terror stricken taunt. What did she mean by this? He looked around, confusion written across his face, his arm mid-raise as he wanted to take another bite from his snack. Then the smell hit him and his face cleared as he understood.


"Run." He ran.


Oh, why had he been so stupid? Why? He should've thought ahead, should've realised this was going to happen. What self-proclaimed master criminal didn't come back for revenge when his minions were taken out of the equation? Jasper could bet that whoever was after him didn't even bat an eyelid when two of his henchmen went missing. No, he wouldn't really care. The feeling of being outplayed by a former client was the thing that spurred him on. Thank God smarty-pants noticed this, or he would have been roasted. Quite literary.


Following the girl, he bounded across the hallway and out the door, welcoming the cold air as he gasped for breath. "T-thanks," he said, his eyes grudgingly lighting up with respect for a few moments as he took a big bite out of his apple. "You saved my life..."

 

[Iridescence]

With the boy, Cecile stormed through the hall and straight through the door, getting as far away as she could from the house.


Red. She hated the colour red.


Her muscles tensed as she helplessly watched the house go up in flames, bit by bit. All she could do was feel her heart race violently in her chest and choke slightly on the billowing grey smoke. "Y-yeah. Whatever. You would have done the same for me." She was out of breath. The young woman wiped the sweat violently from her rippled forehead. Someone was in there. Nope. Someone had been in there. Was he onto them? The man from the nightclub? No way. He didn't need fire to sizzle them to a crisp.... or did he? Perhaps he was too weak and needed an alternative to get rid of them. But why Pretty-Boy's house? How had he even know?


Her skin burned under the blaze of the heat. "Damn," she muttered placing a hand firmly on her gut. Had she been punched? That's what it felt like. Her eyes passed on him. It was technically his house. Maybe some of it could still be saved.

 

[Eexyin]

Jasper watched his house go down in flames. His. He laughed quietly; he hadn't even been in this town for two weeks and already, he thought of the place he was staying in as his. Poor Rex. He was going to be pissed off when he found out about this. It was his house, after all.


Stiffening when the woman said that he'd do the same, he said. "Yeah. Yeah, sure." He hoped she couldn't hear the uncertainty in his voice. She had saved him, and if she were in danger, he would comply to do the same to even out the favors between them. But if she would have needed saving right after she captured him? He might've not bothered. Scratch that. He knew he would have not bothered. But the fact that she cared enough about him as a human being, the fact that she also warned him instead of taking off... That changed things. Wanting to believe she told him to run because she wanted to, instead of rescuing him because she wanted to catch 'bigger fish', he held out his hand.


"I'm Jasper, by the way," he said on a whim, realising he should've given her a fake name a moment too late. If he was caught now because the agent recognised his name - did the organisation that was hunting for him even know it? - he would ask to change his will so they would know what he wanted written on his grave. 'Death by name' sounded good, or even 'Saved from a fire; died from greeting his savior'. He wasn't picky. Not concerning that, at least.

 

[Iridescence]

Cecile's eyes rolled uncertainty between Jasper's hand and his face as if the idea of a handshake was completely foreign to her.


Why did she save him? Was it because she actually cared for him? No way! A hatred still ticked down her throat and in her spine when she saw his hands and the white light that had danced between his fingers. Embedded under that was a fear that made the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. So yeah. Fat chance she actually cared for the boy. Never would she care for one of him.


Was it because he had information? Well, not really. However, that was the only reason she was happy that she had warned him. If she wanted to enter Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory, he was her golden ticket. No boy = no mission. That means no one would ever respect her at the organisation (its not like this opportunity happens every day); She wouldn't gain a higher position; She would never have enough power to start full search investigations; She would never get to see Ethan again. I mean, she had something the police and FBI didn't have - an eye witness. Cecile bit her lip.


So why did she 'save him', so to speak? Cecile was in the moment. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins and her brain was a cloud of fog. In those few seconds, she had one motive - get everyone out. Even if it that meant they were taunting, arrogant super-naturals who she would rather punch in the face than save any day.


Cecile tore from her thoughts and back into the heat of the real world. With that, she took his hand in a rough grip. His name caught on the tip of her tongue for a second. It was probably a fake that he made up. "Jasper, I'm Cecile."


An intricate plan began to string together in her head. She could use this.


Hopefully he trusted her now. Then, with that trust she could gather as much information as possible from that brain of his. A smile threatened to tug at the sides of her lips. Perhaps the ambition flared in her narrowed, composed eyes. Hands now on hips, she looked up at the fiery remains of the building, letting out a small whistle. "Not to sound like I don't care about your house or anything, but we have to get out of here before the fire brigade arrives," she stated rather sternly.

 

[Eexyin]

"Huh. Maybe we should stick around for that; they might help me escape," Jaspertook a peak at her. "Just joking. Not like I'd ever want to escape when I have such company." Throwing one last look at the burning house which started to resemble a mound of ashes with parts here and there that were still intact but burned, he turned around on his heels and began marching towards the direction they came from.


His and her footsteps were the only things breaking the monotonous silence as they thumped on the asphalt ground. Thump, thump, thump. Making his stride bigger when he noticed that one of his steps would equal for a bit more steps from Cecile. "So, Cecile," the name rolled of his tongue. "Why are you, ah, so interested in catching this guy?" He had to get as much information on why she was intent on capturing him as possible. And, if he was lucky, he had to find out the agency's methods in capturing supernaturals so he could stay safe, if he ever escaped this hole he dug himself into.


Thump, thump, thump. Taking a sharp right at an intersection, he stopped in front of a ragged building that looked capable of giving the dance club a run for its 'Master Dump' title. Few windows still had the glass, and even if they did have that, they were boarded up like the rest of the window holes. A burly man was waiting at the entrance beside the heavy door, his face crumpled in a mix between a snarl and a smirk, his eyes narrowed. Jasper walked up to him and shook hands with him, secretly passing the bigger man a couple hundred cash. "You weren't here," the thug said in a low growl as Jasper held open the door for his companion.


Jasper called out to the man behind a desk, "Room 2, Joe!" From experience, and from what he could remember when scouting out this place, Room 2 was the filthiest of all. A moldy stench had started to blossom out when he visited, and he reckoned it was still there and worse. Oh, miss Smarty-Pants is going to absolutely love this, he thought as he grabbed the keys to their room and handed it to her. After all, it wasn't his fault she didn't want to go at a 5 star hotel. Thank God he was getting the couch.

 

[Iridescence]

Cecile gave him a dead-eyed stare and her hand propped against her chest as if she had been shot. "Oh! And here I was thinking that we had such chemistry!" The young woman sarcastically spat at Jasper, a fake smile drawn on her face. For the last time, her eyes cast over the burnt rumble of what had once been a building. Its red light danced over her face as she turned to follow him away.


"So, Cecile. Why are you, ah, so interested in catching this guy?" Cecile avoided eye contact with him. None of your business she wanted to say but technically, it was his business now. Silence was power. Her hands slipped into her pockets and she concentrated on the deafening sound of her and his shoes against the hard floor. A deep breath of fresh, smoke-free air entered her hollow lungs, swinging out just as fast as it was inhaled.


Catching sight of the 'Inn' Jasper had suggested earlier, she already could guess what turn this would take. You know what would make this better? A seedy man - Ooh wait! There he was! A felonious deal to seal the deal and she knew this was her dream night out. "Nice place," she muttered, her eyes rolling amongst the ugly décor, if it could even be called décor. The key sat limp in her clenched hand, almost cutting the surface of her skin.


With Japer, the young woman made a slow march down the dark corridor to this 'room 2' he had specifically ordered. If the smell hadn't already made her cringe, the sagging, black, wet ceiling above the door certainty did. Repulsion crept up Cecile's face, stopping at the newly-formed crease on her forehead. Quickly, she slipped the key into the wooden door and flung it open to reveal the 'room' (more like dump). The pure look and scent of it made her insides curdle like milk with lemon. In the fashion of a criminal with a threatening police offer staring at them, her open hands pulled up to her sides. "Now way," Cecile hissed at him, "No way do you expect me to stay here."


Stains, stains and more stains. Stains on the bed sheets! Stains on the carpet! Stains on the ceiling! And was that a movement? Bed bugs in the bed! She took stepped into the room to peak into the small, cubical-like bathroom. The side of her nose twitching upward, Cecile wasn't surprised to think that no one cleaned the toilet nor the shower. Gross.

 

[Eexyin]

Oh, her face. Her expression! It was worth it. Definitely worth it.


Jason hid a snicker behind a cough and grinned meekly, shoving his hands in his jean's pockets. "Actually, I do. Yes, I do." The smell and sight didn't bother him (well, maybe the little critters moving around the minuscule room made him a bit squeamish). As soon as she opened the door and the odor poured out and punched his senses, he blocked it out. Compared to sleeping between trashcan filled with expired culinary experiments, this was very comfortable. If you ignored the ever lasting stench that would forever give you nightmares. And the ketchupy-like stains all over the room (was that a mustard stain there?!) - all it was missing were the burgers, and then you could eat. And, not to forget about the metal coils that sprung out of the bed mattress like the hand of a zombie digging out from the dirt, wanting to grab you and devour your brain.


"It's the only room they have open, since all the others are taken all the time," he told her, shrugging as he came to stand behind her. "So, unless you change your mind and happen to agree that staying at a 5 star hotel is better, we're stuck here. There's no food service, by the way. And there's almost always never warm water." Jasper probably shouldn't enjoy this as much as he was. He would also stay here, after all.


Acting as if this happened all he time, he took the duvet off the couch and plopped down, a fake smile plastering itself on his face and stretching upwards, the smile not meeting his eyes. He watched her, amused, "Thank you for so kindly offering me the couch before we got here. I'll gladly take it." When he came to scout this place, he paid he owner of the lodge to change the couch and the bed. It looked like he complied - not that there was much room for him to decline, with Jasper and Rex keeping him locket in the disgusting bathroom for a few hours - and it looked like the bed didn't last long. People, he thought, always wanting the bed and avoiding the couch or givinbg it to those they don't like.

 

[Iridescence]

Cecile took in a sharp breath. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad. A change in sheets, a bit of a vacuum, some spring cleaning and bam! Perfectly adequate overnight stay. But behind that false optimism, it was obvious that this room would need months and months and months of mopping-up to become liveable... for her anyway. The young woman moved to the closet, slowly opening up its old structure to reveal some dusty coat-hangers and extra pillows. It smelt of oak mixed with wet dog. Her hands weaved through its contents, in search for some sort of blanket to drape over the bed. Something, anything that would prevent her waking up covered in small red polka dots and unbearable crimson rashes. Unsurprisingly, the only blanket in there was crawling with ants. They marched so proudly through the measly holes in the stale fabric. A feeling of repulsion dived down her stomach. Oh and of course - the couch was perfectly fine. Quite nice actually for where they were. She looked down at the floor. It defiantly wasn't an option with the stains eating it, much like someone had rolled black Play Doh into its fibres.


A five star hotel would really give her wallet a heart attack. She only had enough money for a modest room for one, if she were to stay for the three nights that she was planning. Her head sunk into her hands before they dragged down her face, stopping at her mouth. No freaking way was she staying in this hole. But no freaking way was she going to bow down to his 'requests'. What a bastard.


Rogue hair falling in her green eyes, Cecile didn't even bother to hide the anger creeping up her face. She did feel slightly more powerful looking down at him, though. "Have I ever told you that I don't like you?" Frustration dripped from her dry mouth. If only she could slap that arrogant face... but that wouldn't be professional.


The woman marched for the door, gripping its handle with hulk-like rage. "Whatever. Other hotel it is," she snarled as she existed the room, slamming the door behind her in an attempt to lock him in the stench.

 

[Eexyin]

He smiled sweetly at her, "Oh, don't worry. The feeling is mutual." Only, he didn't just dislike her. He despised her. Hated her. It was unfair to hate her for her job, but alas, the feeling was still there, deep between the layers of his mask. It was unfair that he expected her to treat him for who he was, not what he was, but he let himself think that of Cecile after he saw her reaction to what he showed her.


After she slammed the door, her let the haughty smile drop and took a deep long breath. Taking his phone out, he quickly dialed a number and started rapid-fire speaking, careful to keep his tone down in case anyone - ahem, meaning Cecile - was listening. Throwing it on the floor in a rage after closing it a few minutes later, he put his head in his hands.


The person he called happened to be Boss, and he had told, no, ordered, Jasper not to dump the girl anywhere and try to escape or run away. "Be nice, try to gain her trust. And, Jas, you are not, in any case, to do something that will make her suspicious of you. You will keep on leading her on a wild goose chase and will act nice to her. Maybe we can show her that not all of us are as bad as we're portrayed and she might be able to help us." He hadn't said anything else regarding what "she might be able to help us" with, just left it at that. Picking up his discarded phone, he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.


Barely glancing at the agent when he got to the landing on the stairs, he said, "The only other hotel that doesn't look like this dump - no offense, Joe - is 10 to 15 minutes away (by car) and is a four star. Do you happen to have a car?" He hoped she didn't. That way, he could insist she pay the taxi (he thought it was too late and dark to walk, and if they did decide to go by foot, it would take considerably longer); or, he would pay the taxi driver and she would pay for their rooms. "Oh, and one more thing. The man we're chasing is no longer in this city. He ran off as soon as the incident happened, according to some of my friends." Maybe he could try and make her believe that he went in another country at a vacation place. He could do with a holiday.

 

[Iridescence]

In those few minutes between her and the bottom of the staircase, Cecile had found her thumb hovering over her phone’s contact for ‘Vandal Monette’. Its body gleamed up at the young woman’s face, daring to mask it in a blonde, fruitless light and expose the pale black bags that framed her eyes. Just one simple click and she could gain advice, wisdom, ignorance, hatred, misunderstanding, displeasure. A second was all it took for her thumb to tower down onto the green phone-icon. Unbidden, her eyes began to burn. From the phone’s light, the threat of tears or her drowsiness – she didn’t know. Her ears rang with his rage-stricken voice now. “Ms. Monette, I can’t believe your stupidity! In the company of a supernatural! You disgust me.” His thin face and those eyes. Those blue, blue eyes decorated with such intelligence and hidden behind his sharp spectacles. 'False knowledge' as Cecile liked to call them. Never to his face, though. Creak. Creak. Creak. She continued to lurk down the stairs as if each were susceptible of collapsing from under her. Which they weren’t.


The moment the sound of Jasper’s unnerving footsteps came into view, Cecile drew the black-covered phone into her pocket and spun her head to look at the upcoming wall. A face in an ugly broken mirror stared back at her. It was foreign, yet so familiar. When she blinded, it blinked. When her mouth flashed into a frown, its mouth did the same. Cecile wasn’t one to care about appearances, but she looked absolutely awful. Her hair was tousled, sticking out here, there and everywhere. As for her face – the markings of a long-tired night were as clear as day itself. No wonder that she felt so irritable. She futilely toyed with the hem of her jacket, rolling its rough fabric between her fingertips, eyes curving over to somewhat meet his face, even if it was only through the mirror. “If I had a car, I would have probably used it by now,” she stated. Yeah – Cecile could drive but she had arrived here through public transport. It’s not like you can pack a car as baggage.


Outside, the cold felt harrowing, catching her like a hook to a helpless marine animal. To think that this barren street had just hours ago been packed with the bodies of many. Now there was nothing but wavering, shadowy blackness. Cecile walked on the sidewalk, the wind slicing through her jacket, making goose bumps rise on her skin. His openness caught her by surprise, jerking her mouth into an 'o' position. Offering info? Without asking? Crazy! Clumsily, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, almost dropping it the process. ‘Plane times. Nearest airport.’ Google was magic.


She stopped dead in the middle of the street, grasping his wrist and looking up into what she could see of his brown eyes. “Ok!” she began and couldn’t help herself from stuttering, “So, uh, w-w-where did he go? What c-ity, I mean. We should go straight away.” The wind caught onto her skin, hair and clothing like icicles dripping from the ceiling. A new plan weaved through her brain. If they could catch the plane tonight… hopefully they could get there before he leaves. Hopefully. She could find the thugs, get in contact, undercover his backstory and use it against him. It was perfect… seamless…

 

[Eexyin]

Answering on a whim, he said the first thing that came to mind. "New York City." He had always wished to go visit that place, when he was a boy. Those who had gone there had told him stories about all the good restaurants, best hotels to stay at, attractions to visit, and so on, and he had been dying to spend some time there.


"Are you cold, by any chance?" Jasper asked as he noticed Cecile stutter. Thinking her teeth were chattering due to the frosty wind, he weighted the pros and cons of offering her his coat. On the good side, it would show that he was not always an arrogant monster. But the bad side of it? She could whack him 'round the head with that thing of hers, a stick or something. She hadn't shown him what she could do with it, but he didn't doubt for one second that she could wield it quite adequately. For now, he decided against acting nice.


Stepping on the pavement of the road, he looked on both sides for any sign of life. The few lampposts dotted every here and there didn't give out much light, but nonetheless, he peered into the dark night, eyes narrowed. Judging from the agent's question, she thought going to the airport now would be a good idea; that if, if they could catch a ride in time and if there were any leftover spots on the aircraft. "Taxi! Taxi!" He called out as headlights came into view, two lonely lights in the dark. He jumped out of the way as the car screeched to a stop in front of them and opened the door for Cecile to get in before going in after her.


If they were to get on a plane tonight, they could arrive by tomorrow afternoon, and he could be visiting the city the next day. However, he wasn't only going to be a tourist. Jasper was also planning on meeting with one of the few people Boss trusted and discuss what to do without him knowing. He had been told to lie low and continue lying. But what if the lies stopped? What if he mixed one of the stories up? Getting rid of those that were after him, those other than all the agents and whatnot, seemed like an even better plan than before. Previously, he had decided to somehow use Cecile against them, but now he was stumped and out of ideas.


The tiny interior of the taxi didn't help too much, either. Opening the window next to him in an attempt to clear his air, he turned to look at the woman next to him as the slight breeze ruffled his hair. "Can your people get us on a plane tonight so we can arrive tomorrow?" he asked as he surfed the airport's online site. From the information that he could find, there were two flights that were headed to New York City. One that went from this airport to the one there and one that had a stop in its flight course. A fools errand, he thought as he studied her form the corner of his eyes. Then again, I am the fool for getting caught. A sigh as he remembered the humiliation he felt for letting two kids rap him when all he needed to do was steal a bike and get away. Note to self: bicycles are not easy to procure, unless you have your own.

 

[Iridescence]

An unsettled, silent gasp choked Cecile’s dry throat. ‘The Big Apple’. No. More accurately – ‘The Big Nightmare’. The worst of her fears amalgamated into a living, breathing city. The young woman’s hands moved to her jacket, sliding its silver zipper up to the bottom of her neck. It did nothing. A simple jacket could not shield Cecile from the damp cold that had sunk through her flesh and into to her blood stream. That didn’t stop her from pretending it did, though. “No, I am not cold,” she muttered, trying to ignore how the warmth of her breath slithered from her mouth like puffs of cigarette smoke, gently curling and dancing through the hazy air.


At least the Taxi held some sort of heat, no matter how disquieting it felt. New York City - home of the Department of Supernatural Occurrence’s (D.S.O) second largest base. They called themselves a department, but a part of the government they were not. They were her home, where she actually worked, the people who she aimed to avoid for obvious reasons. With Jasper by her side, who knows how she’d by dealt. Most likely, they’d throw her big-mouth companion into ‘prison’ and she would find herself collapsed under the tower of their unrestrained anger. There was no way she’d let them see her though. All they had to do was avoid its building, and they’d would probably go unseen. It was a city of 8 million – what was the chance of finding a needle in a haystack?


Cecile turned to look out her own window. It was easy to admire the twinkling lights that spayed across the near-empty city like stars. They made the vacant street seem more inviting, hiding its true mottled, dry form. Her eyes shifted to Jasper’s reflection and the way his blonde hair tousled in the wind of his open window. Oh how she hated sitting so close to him. With one swipe of that hand and he could burn her to a crisp or do something to her with whatever that ‘ability’ was he had. Halfway through her visualisation of that potential situation, his voice wacked her back into reality. Her people? Oh. Oh! – that people. A knife had slowly made its way straight into her gut. No, it more felt as if she had swallowed an anchor. Whatever it was, it made her feel sick.


Oh no! What had she gotten herself into?


Maybe if she was in the FBI, she would have fulfilled that request. Taken them to New York as fast as possible to get away from him as fast as possible. Used her authority to take down the criminal in no time to spare. Skip off into the sunset and stuff. But she wasn’t in the FBI. She was an imitation. A mockery. Her hands sunk to her sides as her mind dashed for some sort of answer. Then it hit her as if someone had chucked a lightbulb right at her head.


“Can I ask ‘my people’? Are you crazy?” Her eyes darted to his, flaring with passion. Quickly, she flashed a look at the taxi driver. By the way his old, wrinkled mouth seemed to softly and subtly mouth every word to Taylor Swift’s ‘Wildest Dreams’, she knew he wasn’t paying any attention to whatever the two strangers in the back of his car were talking about. Cecile returned her attention back to Jasper, her voice fading almost into obscurity, “When I call the FBI, do you know what their first question will be? ‘Who is that extra seat for?’” She paused, as if trying to select her next few words carefully. “When the FBI get involved, they get involved. They have ways. They’ll find out who you are. What you are. Then it’s bye-bye to your little secret. And even if you help them find the bad-guy, you’ll never be free. They won't let you just walk back into the world. You will be monitored. They will know everything you do for the rest of your life because you're a supernatural. You're untrustworthy to them.” Each word rolled off of her tongue as if she discussed something hazardous… deadly.


“Time to get out,” a man’s rough voice rang from the front seat. The taxi rolled to an abrupt stop, almost sending Cecile jerking against her tight seatbelt. They were at the airport. The man turned to look the two in the back, the pale light outside sharpening his already angular face and turning his grey hair a close-white. He stated the cost of the trip and Cecile dragged her purse out of her bag, pulling out the necessary notes to complete the transaction.


With that, she opened the door, allowing the air to caress her near-frozen skin and the airport’s light to consume her body. Her attention dragged back to Jasper. "I trust you to walk around without handcuffs now please trust me when I say that I will not be calling the FBI for anything." Not even for a five star hotel she wanted to say, just to drive the point home. That should get him off her back. She had to fight off a smile.

 

[Eexyin]

The words hit his heart and limply slid off, the barbed thorns surrounding it protecting him from reacting to any of Cecile's words regarding what he was. "Fine, have it your way." This meant that he would let the subject drop for now but would approach it later. And that he'd have to pay for his own fare. Not that he minded or anything, but he somewhat enjoyed soaking Cecile's money as payback for making him get change his perfectly fine, monotonous schedule. Honestly, he could do with some more adventure in his life - he was getting bored of hiding around, always moving and speaking as if that would be the last thing he ever did.


When their ride halted to a stop Jasper opened the door and jumped out, slamming it shut behind him. "You know," he replied, "If I were to, say, run away, you'd have to catch me all on your own, seeing that you said you won't cal for anything. And this time there'll be no annoying little kids to help you catch me." He wasn't going to run away, but he hoped his haughty tone would convince her that he would actually do that. The staff she carried around made his stomach churn, and he didn;t fancy her having a go at him with it. He quickly added, "Of course, that was purely metaphorical. I'm not planning on it, don't worry."


By now it was late during the night and the airport was lit up like a Christmas tree, dotted with lights. Jasper took in the relaxed atmosphere as he walked across the road and waited for the automated doors of the building to open to let him inside. The air was cooler on the inside, probably from all the air conditioners running, and he remarked so. "Ah, how good it is to be out of that stuffy car and in a bigger area with a lot more breathing space," he sighed as he followed the signs that guided them to the corner where you made reservations.


"Excuse me, my friend here was wondering if you had any spare spots for a plane headed towards New York City," he said, butting in before Cecile could talk. Judging from the man's tight expression, they were out of luck. Damn. They had to leave this town as fast as possible, if they wished to draw no more attention to themselves from the wrong kind of people. Or her agency, the FBI. If he could trust what she said, he would not want to give them a reason to thoroughly comb through his background with a fine brush. Then again, it might already be too late. Cecile had, after all, been interested in catching him and she was part of that group.


Stealing a glance at her, he hoped she saw the message in his eyes that begged her to 'go with the flow' and not 'question what he was about to do' before he turned his attention to the man. Jasper leaned over the pristine counter and lowered his voice. "Look, buddy, I'm desperate. Desperate. I," he looked around and leaned closer as if he didn't want his lady friend to overhear what he was about to say, "I'm going to take my girlfriend over here on vacation and I was thinking of proposing her. I already had everything planned out; where I was gonna take her, what hotel to stay at, that kind of stuff." The lie slid of his tongue as easily as if the entire thing he just said was pure truth. Taking a deep breath and trying to look stressed out, he continued. "Please? Could you just check to see if any spots were freed?" The man nodded and he released a sigh of relief that he hadn't realised he had been holding inside of him.


A few tense minutes later, he looked up from the compur he had been typing away at. "Two spots left on the flight leaving in 10 minutes. You gotta hurry if you want to make it." Jasper pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket and handed it over in exchange for two tickets. "Good luck, by the way!" the man called out as the pair proceeded to make their way.


Jasper sighed again and pushed blonde locks of hair our of his eyes. "No one, no one, needs to know about this, okay?" If this wasn't necessary, he wouldn't have told the lie he did. Him and her? Together? He could barely stand her.

 

[Iridescence]

Cecile’s muscles stiffened and her jaw tightened. All she could do was play along, pretend to be his future fiancé and smile. It twisted onto her lips like a child trying to act sweetly, never quite reaching her dark green eyes. If Jasper hadn’t looked at her the way he did, she probably would have wacked him across the face for suggesting such a prospect. Obviously, that wouldn’t have gone down well for two people who were meant to be in love. But, in those few seconds when he did put on that act, it seemed like it was real. He was her boyfriend and they were going on a romantic getaway. Even the way he looked at the man when they received the tickets - it was amazing how realistic it seemed. Although Cecile would never admit it, she felt strangely proud of his ability to swerve the man’s actions in their favour, nevertheless suspicious.


Cecile let her smile drop when the man behind the desk was out of sight. His return back to normal-big-mouthed Jasper caught the her slightly off guard as she turned to look him dead-in-the-eye, “Do you honestly think I’m going to tell anyone?”


Oh hey friend. You know this guy I’m with? The supernatural in hiding who I’m helping conceal? Yeah, we were imaginary girlfriend and boyfriend once. Good times. That conversation was never going to happen. Even the idea of them being a couple made her stomach jump. She could hardly bare him, let alone date him. The young woman turned her attention back to the somewhat busy airport then to the large, glowing screen that dangled over their heads.


8 minutes. A small crease formed in between the agent’s eyebrows. “If we’re going to make it, we’re going to have to run,” she muttered, taking his wrist in her hand. Letting him run freely would be an act of stupidity on her part, trust or no trust she didn't care. Getting lost in the crowd of this airport was equally likely as getting lost in a maze. People were here, there and everywhere, caught in some sort of unseen current and flowing like water to their individual destinations. In this type of environment, Pretty-Boy could easily hide and, this time, like he so graciously made aware, there seemed to be no six-year-old girls or boys to take him down. However, Cecile did not doubt that the 80-something-year old woman strolling beside them could probably hit him down with her cane if worst came to worst.


7 minutes. If he liked it or not, she was running with his hand in hers. The young woman’s feet pounded on the ground with little grace and her legs felt as heavy with the tiredness she held over her shoulders. Not even the bright lights would wake her up at this point - not when she woke up at 4am this morning.


6 minutes. She weaved awkwardly amongst the unknown faces. Her grip grew tighter around his wrist, tugging him to her side. Dizziness overcame the woman for a few seconds, but she continued on at full speed. There was no way Cecile was missing this plane.


5 minutes. Her hand released form his. Finally, the departure lounge. It had been almost a decade since she stood in a departure lounge. She was only twelve years old at the time. It was with her Aunt and brother before they travelled home from her apartment in San Francisco. Their Aunt thought it would get their minds off of work and their father. Her Aunt disliked her father. It was a subject that she never shied to discuss. Actually, she always attempted to make it the focal point of discussion. Sometimes she would ask them if their father bothered them. Once she actually suggested that they come and live with her instead. She even offered Cecile her study as a new bedroom. Cecile use to love the view from her Aunt’s study… Maybe they should have taken the offer before life went pear-shaped.


4 minutes. Inside the airport was just as she remembered. Crowded with rows and rows of seats squished together and a long path stretching down the middle. Great. The only two spots were side by side in the back left. That meant for however-long this flight was, she would have to sit centimeters away from Jasper. This was worse than the taxi, which was pretty unbearable in its own right. At least then, they had a seat between them and a window she could open. Now it would be a mere armrest that shielded her. An armrest! That was not enough.


3 minutes. Cecile moved to her seat and placed her green over-the-shoulder bag between her legs. The young woman didn't bother moving to the far seat - she wanted to be near the corridor where she had some chance of freedom. Somewhere to look away from his face and run if it became necessary.


This was going to be the worst flight of her life.

 

[Eexyin]

{ So so so sorry for replying so late!! Sorry! }


"You never know when this conversation we have will be brought up by someone else," he manage to say before she grabbed his hand and started running. Oddly enough, Jasper's first instinct wasn't to pull away but to let her hold his hand, to let her guide him through the mass of people. It was like wading through a swimming pool filled with congealed slime, and if that was how it felt for him being at the back, he doubted Cecile had it any easier, with her being in the lead and all that. Oh well. Better her than him, right?


As they ran, he nearly tripped on the outstretched foot of a boy, who was hard at work munching on a lollipop as big as his dead. He stared at Jasper with big green eyes, a silent accusation floating in the air between them. Kids hated him - it was confirmed now. First he got bested by a little girl and her brother and now this. It wasn't just now that they didn't seem to like him. There was always that one child that'd just stare at him for no reason, hatred written in their expression. Either a really moody kid or they could sense that there was something off about him, something different about it.


Huffing, he regained his balance after a waving his free arm, an awkwardness that can be described as a lumbering elephant on an ice rink trying to dance like a ballerina. By the time they got to the departure lounge, he was panting and lagging a bit behind. Despite her being shorter than him, he was slower than her. Heads were turning to look at them and he could see they didn't appreciate two youngsters barging through them. The glares receded as they climbed aboard the aircraft, but Jasper couldn't relax too much.


He hated closed spaces; despised them. It was good that Cecile moved to sit down at the spot closer to the aisle, as it gave him the chance to grab the one near the window. "Thanks," he mumbled. Sitting down with a thump, he reclined the chair as much as it would go and leaned back. Pity the window couldn't open. Some fresh air could do wonders for him, but he doubted it would be appreciated, even while they were still on the ground.


A stewardess came out of the pilots cockpit, a bright smile on her face. Opening his eyes as she went on to tell them about the safety guidelines and such, he put on his seat belt, familiar with the drill. He had been going on planes all his life. Though he usually traveled to cities that were close to each other and could be reached in a maximum 2 day car trip, he had flown before and had basically gotten the same speech each time. Her words and the gentle, constant chatter drifted in the background as he tried to doze off and succeed to do so, despite the feeling that the small space inside of the airplane was getting smaller. Jasper had no big problems drifting off to sleep (he was tired, after all) and waking up in a dream. Seeing a younger version of himself, he recalled all the times he had used his... powers. Most of the time, the circumstances had forced him to do it, a defense mechanism that flared to life whenever he was in danger, except for the time when he had shown Angela and now Cecile.


As if what was happening was a movie and he was the audience, watching, petrified, on a flat screen plasma TV. Then the scenery changed and he was sitting in that club. The paper that had been pushed towards him by the small thug, the one he violently said no to, floated in his mind. How could he had forgotten about it? His eyes snapped open and he yawned, struggling a bit with the seat until he got it to prop up by a few centimeters.


Jasper watched Cecile from the corner of his eyes, his mind trying to come up with what to say. The information on the paper could be vital - it could help them find the one who ordered the two lackeys after him! Only, how was he going to explain that he read what was on that paper? His reason to being there was purely recreational, a dance competition, that was what he told her. So how to go back on himself? Like Boss had warned him, the lie had whirled around to smack him in the face. And it had hurt.


"So, uhm, Cecile," he started, the words stumbling a bit as they got out of his mouth. Smoothing down his worry with a layer of strong self confidence, he tried again. "You ever been to New York City?" Jasper asked, an attempt to make conversation to pass time. The look on his face hinted that there was something else that spurred him to try to talk to her, but he kept that reason hidden inside of him. I'll tell her later, he decided.

 

[Iridescence]

[ That's okay! ]


Cecile snapped on her seatbelt, listening to the woman’s explanation of the aircraft’s safety procedure. Her words began to muffle and intertwine with the silent roar of the plane’s air conditioner as the agent’s mind attempted to drag Cecile into the oblivion of sleep. Sleeping right now would be so easy. So simple. Just close your eyes, she thought. But no, she shouldn’t. She had to remain alert. If anything went wrong, if Jasper decided that the deal wasn’t in his best interest anymore, she was an easy target in the confines of this metal machine. Especially with her staff in the overhead luggage. Over her lifetime, Cecile had seen many ways that her time on this world could have come to an end, but never had she considered it to be in her sleep. But would he dare? In front of so many people? Something told her that he wouldn't risk getting rid of her if it meant revealing his 'secret'. It will just be for a few minutes, her brain pleaded as she passed a glace to Jasper, laid back in his chair. You can’t find that Monster if you’re tired. So just close your eyes. So she did, her consciousness folding and unfolding, swaying and swirling into the beautiful chaos of a new dream.


She woke up, standing in the centre of a dingy prison as a six-year-old girl. The six-year-old moved from cell to cell, her hair waffling behind her like golden smoke and her little yellow dress coated in mud stains. Slowing down, the girl’s eyes stopped at a figure behind a set of rusted, grey bars. The older woman looked at her, her beautiful green eyes hidden behind mattered brown hair. Gradually, the smell of roses began to tickle the girl’s nose with its sweet scent, a voice calling from above her, “She’s not like us, Cece, she’s a product of the devil. She’s a demon.”


Cecile could feel the tears running down the child’s face. They fell to the floor and flooded the room, curling around the girl’s ankles. “But she’s nice,” Cecile’s voice crawled from the child’s mouth. The woman reached to hold the younger’s hand and the girl held it tightly, “She’s my friend.” Then the woman opened her mouth, grotesque red-spotted fangs growing from her pink gums. She bit, the six-year-old screamed and Cecile’s eyes opened.


She was in a different sort jail now, stuck in the small seat of an aircraft and under an uncomfortable seatbelt. Outside, it was obvious that they had taken off. The earth was now below them, the sun's bright light smiling down at it. As for the clouds - they were so close that she swore she could reach out and touch them. How long had she slept for? Jasper was still asleep, it seemed. The corners of Cecile’s lips quirked as she looked at the young man. He seemed so… peaceful. What was he dreaming of? Probably ways to get rid of her. She wouldn’t blame him though – she’d dream of getting rid of him if she could. Cecile turned her head to the front, moving her eyes over all the over people seated on the plane.


"So, uhm, Cecile, you ever been to New York City?”


The familiar sound of his voice made her flinch. Had he known she was staring? She didn’t dare to pass him a look. Maybe she should lie – say that she’d never stepped foot in the dreadful city. The less they knew about each other the better, right? It would make the whole process so much easier. But, before she had a chance to think otherwise, the truth had already slipped out. “Once or twice. A long time ago,” she stated. Cecile would have gladly left it at that. Allowed the conversation to drift away and become nothing. But he would probably try again and this airplane wasn’t going to land anytime soon. Not that she knew of anyway. Plus, she couldn’t deal with him constantly poking her with more conversation starters. “Uh, so how about you? Have you ever been to New York?”

 

[Eexyin]

"Well, that's great! You can lead the way, then, when we go sightseeing." He quickly added, "If we have free-time." Right. They were supposed to be chasing this dude that blasted light from his hand and made tens of people disappear. He ignored the memory that stuck in his head like a loyal puppy, waiting to play, and instead focused on the conversation with Cecile. 


Jasper laughed when she asked him if he'd ever been to New York. As if. It was a crowded city, and from what he had heard, it was harder to try to blend in. "I wish. Never really been to large city. You know, with all the things and such." A lie, but a truth too. He hadn't been to a large city because he was born in one. Not wishing to think about his past either, he plowed on, determined to make the time they would be stuck next to each other in an airplane useful by trying to find out more about her.


"Where's the agency located?" he asked boldly, his mouth working ahead of his brain. "If we know where it is, we can steer clear of it so they don't find out you've been helping someone like me and so I don't get caught." And that was exactly what he planned to do after he figured a way to escape her presence - hopefully after the man that was after him was destroyed or incapacitated. Lie low for a while, wait things out. See if Cecile had any wish to come find him. He knew he shouldn't be planning so far ahead - that he would only get his hopes up - but it was something to look forward too, if he managed to come out of it alive. What a good story it would make too. Unfortunately, tales of adventure weren't quite to his taste. Especially when he felt like he was in one and his 'enemy' was sitting right next to him.


As he was about to ask her another question, the man in front of him caught his attention. He was short and looked to be in his 50, judging by the wrinkles. However, the bright purple hair and the stud in the man's ear, together with the studded black leather jacket, didn't lead Jasper to think that the person in front of him really was that age. When he turned around, to Jasper's surprise, vivid orange eyes stared at him through the crack between the two seats. No-one else was sitting next to the man, and his eyes kept flicking from Cecile to Jasper.


Jasper's own eyes widened in surprise as he recognized the other passenger before he quickly looked out the plane. "Boss," he mouthed to himself, silently breathing the word out. Boss was here. In this plane. When he looked back, Boss had turned around and was drawing his hand through his purple hair in an exaggerated motion before holding it between the two seats, his fingers flicking as they started signing. "Talk later. You're in trouble." the message said, the motions Jasper knew by heart spurring him on.


Boss was here. And he didn't know if this was a good thing or not.

 

[Iridescence]

Cecile let out a disjointed laugh. "Well, you're not missing out on much," she added quickly, more to herself than to him. It was crowded, filthy, noisy and just plain ugh. Yeah, that's right. As inarticulate as it sounds, her New York experience could be expressed with that one simple word. Ugh. Maybe she was a fool going back there, even if it has been ten years since she had last returned.  


When he asked for the location of her alleged agency, Cecile had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. She pressed her head against the chair's headrest, a raw, stained smile playing on her lips. "Come one Jasper. I promised you, right?," the young woman closed her eyes, allowing herself to be drenched in darkness, "Stick with me and we won't go anywhere near the place. I mean, it's not like I'm going to take us right into the line of fire."


She half-expected some sort of off-hand remark. Something that she could snap back at or mock. A grunt, at least. But there was nothing. The deafening sound of nothing. It somewhat concerned her. "What, silent for once?" she muttered. Cecile sat up straight and looked over at Jasper, her brows creased and her face tense. He was right there... yet, he wasn't. They had been distant to each other since minute one, but this distance was different. This distance overwhelmed the agent. However, in reality, it wasn't his vacancy that truly bothered her. It was they way his eyes had widened.


"Jasper?" 


Was it fear? Surprise? Shock? Were they in danger? Whatever it was, it send a spark of electricity down her spine. She wasn't going to waste all this time and energy just to be caught on the plane ride. "Jasper?" Cecile repeated in a hushed tone before lightly slapping him directly across the face with one swift swipe, "What's wrong with you?" Her attention drew to the man seated in front of them. The man he seemed to have been staring at with the purple hair and leather jacket. She had heard of the mid-aged crisis, but this was ridiculous. Was he even on the plane when they got on? She would have remembered a face like that. Something was off.


The young woman leaned toward Jasper and rested her head on his shoulder in the way a couple would, her eyes never leaving the back of the man's head. It was the only way to move closer that seemed... natural. Now was not the time to draw suspicion with obvious whispering. That would just be stupid of her. "Purple hair and piercing at twelve o'clock. Do you know him?" she breathed, wrapping her hand around his arm in an attempt to look like they were just enjoying each others company.


Like a couple going to New York to get engaged.


Just hopefully the man, or no one else, saw that she slapped him only moments earlier.

 

[Eexyin]

Jasper hadn't heard her the the first time she called his name. Nor the second time. Honestly, he hadn't heard anything at all. Just. . . silence. He knew the quiet was only in his mind - no way the loud airplane would go from making noises to dead quiet in a matter of seconds, not unless there was a crisis or something. And even then, it would have been bound to hear some screams through the hull of the aircraft. 


The slap woke him up and he blinked as he realized he had been staring at the purple haired man. Boss. Last time the two saw each other had been quite some time ago -over at least two years - and the circumstances hadn't been very heartwarming. A part of the group Boss had control over had been discovered, fallen prey to an undercover agent that no doubt received medals and a lot of praise for his accomplishments. And the members that were caught? They received a cold cell and a haughty cellmate at best. At worst, from what Jasper heard, they were being watched and tested on by scientists that tried to understand the powers. He expected the scientists to already understand this mutation, seeing as they were to one to first create it, but beggars can't be choosers, after all. 


Continuing with the story of that last time the two saw each other, Boss hadn't been happy. Jasper had wanted to go after the caught members, to save them. But no, the old man wouldn't allow him. He had had a good friend, one that he used to travel with and claim they were siblings - when they were younger and weren't as good at keeping a low profile, people had often wondered if the two were family, and since they had some similar attributes and looked a bit alike, they adopted that story and implemented it in their "vacationing" backstory - and his instinct was to go after his buddy. They had a fight and the twp split up. They haven't talked for a year, until Jasper had needed a favour and had finally called, but still. There was a somewhat an an agreement between them, one that consisted of calling every now and then but never meeting up. 
 


"Ah, yeah, I'm fine," he said distractedly. Tensing when she propped her head against his shoulder, he relaxed when he realised what she wanted to do. Smart, he thought. She's sticking to the backstory. Jasper rested his head on hers. "One of the bad guys," he whispered, lying. "He's like me but it's rumored he had something to do with a lot of the incidents involving agents like you." The last part, at least, was true. He had heard some bad rumors that concerned Boss, and he didn't doubt that some of them were definite lies, but others were true too. Feeling as though a bit too obvious, he hoped Cecile couldn't tell it was a lie. After all, he didn't know what agents like her were taught, but she seemed extremely capable. Especially with that fearsome stick.

 

[Iridescence]

"Incidents," she echoed softly to herself, tightening her grip on his arm.


Her line of work was dangerous and she knew it. Disappearances were common, yet not discussed. Once a member of the agency was found dead or captured, they became non-existent - merely ghosts tangled in the furniture of their old offices and the spines of their old weapons. Why? She had been told that it was because they were weak, cowardly and undeserving of a last prayer or send off. Although, she always suspected that it was because her superiors' didn't like to admit defeat nor grace their enemies with any sort of recognition.


So, Cecile grew to become accustomed to this reality. When some agents of her age went missing a couple years back, she accepted it. When her once-childhood friend was found hunted by a supernatural, she accepted it. When she was old enough to understand of her mother's disappearance, she accepted it. She never even questioned the reasons behind it. Not that it really bothered her. Her mother was a shadow that she never truly met... that she was too young to truly meet.


But then her brother disappeared, and she didn't accept it. From that point, everything became different. Everything - her group member's disappearances, her friend's death, her mother's ghost- it all became real to her. Too real. It was as if, for her whole life, she had been enslaved in the pages of a book to, only now, look up and see the real world. It was a very hollow feeling indeed.


If this man... this thing... was response for anything. Any disappearances. Any incidents. So help her, because she was ready to attack. It was only then that she had realised that she was clutching Jasper's arm as if she was a child and he was her plush toy. There was something about the way he had leaned his head on her that felt comforting. Something that brought Cecile back into reality, softened her nerves and stopped her from attacking. What Jasper had said - They were rumours and she didn't know what was real or fake nor what he had done or will do. Right now, she had to keep them both alive - she was going to keep her promise to Jasper.


She loosened her grip, "If he is a threat, we have to get off of this plane." The young woman's eyes scanned the aircraft for possible escape routes. Obviously, there wasn't any. Commercial planes didn't even have parachutes, so jumping was not an option... unless if he could fly. Could he fly? Probably not. But then she looked at his hands.


Maybe he could create a flare so they could have an emergency landing? But that could be too daring and perhaps it would be better just to stick on the plane until they got to New York. Yet, from what she could tell, they were close to the city, so if they got off here they could probably make the rest of the journey easily through public transport. Oh gosh, she didn't know what to do. This is why she would never be a good agent.


She loosened her grip on his arm, "Jasper, I think I have a plan but it would mean you using your you-know-what. Are you able to risk it for an emergency landing?"

 

[Eexyin]

Jasper took note of her strong grip as she clutched his arm, but he didn't mind. It was something to keep him here, now, in the present. An anchor. Cecile was an anchor for him, the airplane the sea, and Boss a shark that couldn't decide between eating you or saving you as a snack for later. Funny, how one can ruin someone's live then save it later. Or save it but ruin it later.


"If he is a threat, we have to get off this plane." He laughed uncertainly. Was she crazy? Was she joking? Jasper didn't even know if there were parachutes in a commercial aircraft, and he for sure didn't know how to jump out of a plane. Or fly. Not that he could do that or something. When he was smaller and stiff living at the orphanage, to the insistence of some bullies, he had jumped off the roof of the garden shed. It didn't turn out too well; for him and the bullies alike. While he got himself a broken leg, scratches, and a lot of bruises {he hadn't wanted to listen at first, but, alas, the tormentors could be quite persuasive} the three boys and one girl had gotten dish duty for a year, garden duty for three months, had to pay to get him a present, and then were mercilessly shipped off to another orphanage - this wasn't the first time they had gotten in major trouble. More like the 6th, if he remembered correctly.


He hadn't given flying a thought, or a try, ever since. Jasper doubted he failed because his, ah, powers weren't that well developed yet, but he still wouldn't like to give it a try. Not now, not ever. And especially not out of a plane where failing would mean he became a splatter on the ground.


About to make some offhanded remark about the supposed danger they were in, he froze, his mouth gaping in surprise, when she said her plan that concerned the emergency landing. "Are you out of your mind?" Jasper asked, his voice rising. No. No, no, no, no. He was not going to use his powers to force the pilots in landing immediately. What if something went wrong? What if he created a light beam too powerful that would cut through the metal frame of the plane like a sharp knife slicing cheese?


His loud exclamation turned some heads - including Boss's - and it took all of his control to add, "I am not proposing on an airplane. What would your father think?" He leaned his head closer to hers as he ignored the stare he received from Boss. In a much quieter and controlled tone, he said, the words rushing out, " No, no, no, no, no, no. Nope. Not doing it. I can't do it. I won't do it!What if something goes wrong? What if the agency finds out? What if there's another agent here? What if Boss spooks and his abilities also flare up?" The name slipped off his tongue, but he barely noticed he disclosed the name of the leader of the group he was supposed to lead her away from - the man that he loved despite all the arguments - to Cecile. "What if the plane crashes. I don't want to die, I'm too young! And these 8innocent people?"


It wasn't in his character to act so scared, so helpless, so devoid or sarcasm or arrogance. But right now, he couldn't care less.

 

[Iridescence]

Cecile flinched as the rows of heads turned to face them... including the purple-haired man. He had seen them. The man she had so wanted to avoid had seen them! Unbidden, a chocked sob caught at the base of her throat. It was as if her ribs had become steel traps, starving her body of oxygen and stuttering her breath. To think that just seconds ago she had taken steady breathing for granted.


"I am not proposing on an airplane. What would your father think?" she heard him say, interrupting the strained silence that had enclosed her. Darn. Darn. Darn. A nervous smile quivered across her lips and, in that moment, she knew that her face had blossomed a bright shade of red. She had wanted to comment something back to continue the cover, but couldn't. Her voice just wasn't cooperating. But before she even had the chance to make something up, he was already whispering into her ear.


Then all of the embarrassment and fear seemed to wash off her of. No, not because she found him comforting. His soft breathing that had once sounded of peace now felt like an invisible hand closing tighter and tighter around her neck. Before she even had a chance to think, she had already jerked away from him, her fist clenched and unwavering at her side, ready to hurdle itself straight into he jaw. His words jumped across her skull like a ricocheting bullet; they were a soundtrack on repeat, eroding her thoughts and chipping away all things calm.


"What if Boss spooks and his abilities also flare up?"


Boss. Abilities. Liar. He knew him. He cared for him! She could hear the concern in his voice. He knew the purple-haired man and lied to her about it. The man was his Boss. His Boss!


Anger boiled deep through her system, churning within, hungry to destroy and raging like a rough tide through her head. "You know him, don't you?" she growled through a clenched teeth. Her voice rose, slowly and subtly, rage smouldering in her narrowed eyes like crackling fire, "You know him, don't you Jasper?" She wanted to punch something, anything, hopefully his stupid face; but everyone was staring again. It took all of her strength to not yell the truth - to keep the cover. "You're cheating on me aren't you!" she barked. It was all she could think of and, in all honesty, she didn't care. He knew the man. He probably called him over. How many more were on this plane? She knew that she shouldn't have fallen asleep earlier.


Cecile wrapped her hand around the young man's collar and pulled him closer to her. She tried to tell herself to calm down, but it didn't work. He was what made her calm before and now, that calm he had given her was gone. All that was left was a venom that she struggled to control. Goodbye being composed. She couldn't do it anymore. "Tell me the truth, now!"

 

[Eexyin]

Watching as Cecile moved away from him, drew away from him, Jasper stayed silent. He didn't move. Didn't object. Maybe she's finally seeing how dumb that idea is, he thought to himself. Not realizing what he had done, what he revealed, he watched her, his gaze questioning. 'What's wrong?' he wanted to ask. 'You finally realised that that plan wouldn't work?' he wanted to say. But she spoke before him.


"You know him, don't you?" she asked. Her fist may have been clenched and down at her side, but this felt like a punch. A punch straight to the gut, as painful as if she had actually done it. More painful than whatever strike could - more forceful, more accusing, more hurtful. Of God. Oh God, what had he done? 


What had he done? 


Despite the accusations she made against him - truthful ones at that, too - Cecile had kept on the cover. Jasper felt like laughing and crying at the same time. Here they were, an agent and a supernatural, two enemies, sitting next to each other and discussing what could be called as betrayal, and she kept on going with the backstory. A strangled laugh escaped his lips. The harsh but crazy sound drowned under her angry glare and he quietened.


She was angry.


And that, despite all his efforts, terrified him.


Truth. He had to tell the truth. But which was the truth? And how would it sound? 'Well, it's quite a funny story, you know. I've been misleading you all this time. You know the guy that burned the club down? The one that made all those people disappear into thin air? Yeah, well, that's me. And the guy in front of us? He's actually my Boss and the one that helped me, trained me, and offered me a home. I didn't ask him to come here, but I talked to him on the phone and told him what happened. Please don't hurt me?' It would sound pathetic. Pathetic.


The grip she held on his collar was strong, and he knew that he shouldn't bother to try and make her let go. Truth or Lie? People were no longer looking at them, already bored with the supposed 'couple' so he trying to calm her down and convince her to not make a scene wouldn't really work, as everyone else already had something different on their mind. All except Boss, who was stealing glances at the two from the seat in front of them.


As Jasper tried - and failed - to frantically wrench out of her grasp, his eyes were drawn to the pocket that was found on the back of all seats. Inside was a bag of cheap peanuts that flight attendants handed  out during the flight and some magazines, nothing which he could possible use to get his neckband out of his hand. Unless he could reach one and swat her, like a fly. He doubted that would work as it would probably anger her more.


"I know him," he said. "You're right, I know him! His name is Boss and he's the leader of a group that helps people like me, people that are different, to stay under the radar of those like you. I didn't tell him to come here - I have no idea how he even knew we would board this exact flight, or if he was in our vicinity! We talked on the phone at that dump of a hotel, when you walked out of the room and I stalled inside."


Truth or Lie?


Truth.


Jasper hoped she wouldn't find out, wouldn't keep prying, until she hit the other truth: that the man they were supposedly chasing was he.

 

[Iridescence]

Cecile watched as the echoes of laughter evaporated from his eyes, as he squirmed under her tight grip, as he seemed to search for some sort of response. She watched him in silence, waiting for an answer, heart hammering erratically in her chest. She was playing predator and he was playing prey when, in reality, it was probably him who should have been the predator and her who should have been the prey. Anger is a funny thing, you know? She had once read that it was like an assassin - swift and silent. It looms in the darkness of your soul, ready to strike at any given moment. Then, when it does, it hovers over the light and clouds your judgement. It swallows your world whole and after its done, it leaves you to fall into your own regret. .


And here she was, under the hand of the assassin - dumb enough to put herself into a situation where he could probably cut through her with a simple swipe of his hand. He could do that, right? Then there was Purple-man in front of her and who knows what he could do. Control her thoughts? Make her his puppet? And what could she really do about it? Tell him off? Maybe a 'pretty please' would stop him from completely destroying her. The fog consumed her and she could feel the assassin smiling. Teasing her. Tormenting her with its long, shiny blade. This was a dangerous game and she was stupid enough to play it. She was silk pretending to be titanium. She had always been silk pretending to be titanium


But she was here now, on the stage and in costume. The show had to go on.


Her eyes went stern, her face tense. "Stay under the radar of people like me?" she gasped, "It's people like me who are trying to defend themselves from things like you!"  Everything happened so fast. The words had crawled out of her mouth so fast. Now that she had started, she couldn't stop. The light was hidden and she had no where else to go but the darkness. If she was not going to make it off of the plane, she was going to go down fighting. She wasn't going to surrender to no one. Not now. Not ever. "It's things like you who take the lives of people like me. Do you know how many friends I've lost? Do you even know the pain I've felt?" Her grip tightened. She could feel her eyes burning red with the threat of tears but there was no way she was going to stop. "I live life every day in fear that one of you will come out of the shadows and attack me. And guess what? They do. They attack me and they attack everyone I know. So don't you dare - and I mean it - don't you ever dare say that you're hiding from us when we're the ones hiding from you!"


Cecile was breathing harshly, a thin layer of sweat trickling down her forehead. She really had done it now, but she didn't break eye contact with Jasper. The world around Cecile was nothing and her anger had started to transforming into something different that she couldn't understand. Something far more painful, striking her heart with a fierce determination. She went quiet for a second and let in a deep breath. In a much more controlled and calm tone, she started to talk again, "I know you hate me and you can probably tell that I'm not too fond of you, either - but - but for a second - I- I trusted you. I - I believed you. So, what else are you hiding, Jasper? Do you even know where this supernatural went?"


What was this feeling? Disappointment. That's what it was. Maybe this feeling was the regret the assassin wanted to leave behind - having any trust in Jasper.