Hey!!
begonia, eerrrr I have enough on my plate with the aliens I already have running around
August 27nd, 2011 – Day 1779 and counting
Some things I will never miss: the sudden orders to drop everything and get on a mission. The intense briefing. The adrenaline of hunting down and eliminating your target. The long way home.
And some things never get old: like stopping at my favorite Starbucks—or visiting my favorite doctor.
Chapter Forty-three
Shadow of Thought
The Starbucks clerk smiled at him with a bright smile. He smiled back at her, an action followed by badly stifled giggles from another female clerk in the far side. He'd been a regular for the most part of eight months now, so his face was well known around this place.
That's actually a first, it occurred to him while paying, realizing there was a place on Earth where people knew of his existence that didn't entail drugs, missions, and warfare.
Parker's lab is like that, too, the thought came at the same time he received his change, the girl smiling even broader when he left a five-dollar tip. The one piece of advice Frank had instilled in him was to tip properly. It made everyone around him happy, leading to better service and better atmosphere all around.
The smell of coffee was like an old friend, even if coffee hadn't been part of his life before last year, and it all had started so he could keep an eye on Parker, the surroundings, and his precious escape plan.
He sat down, his eyes eagerly searching for Parker's blue Honda. Sure enough, Max spotted Whitman's rental, right beside his doctor's car. A world of relief flooded him, and the taste of coffee added to the sweet moment.
The first time he'd come to this Starbucks, he'd asked for chocolate. The second time, for tea. Coffee didn't make an appearance until he'd started officially stalking Parker and her late hours at the lab. Then he'd needed to be awake after long hours of traveling and a world of aches all over his body threatened to send him to snooze. Coffee had been the means to an end, then.
He smiled. Saying all that out loud would surely land him on the creepy side of things. Never mind he'd done it to save his life, he'd
stalked the doctor, researched her, followed her every move as best as he could in the limited time he had. All from this Starbucks, all perfectly camouflaged. Even his internet searches had been courtesy of this wi-fi.
In truth, he owed this place big. Maybe he would try to leave a bigger tip next time. Maybe he would ask for his name to be placed on a plaque:
Max Evans was here.
He contemplated carving his name on the table while he watched the last of the lab techs leave. Surely, Parker would stay behind, doing some research or other—maybe even waiting for him.
The thought brought another smile to his lips. For once he was not expected at the lab, Summers was not staring at him, and Parker was safe and around the corner.
By 6:00pm, no lights remained in the building except one: Parker's.
taking the cup with him, he crossed the familiar path and went up the equally familiar stairs. Not so long ago, he'd been walking these halls like an intruder, waiting to be stopped, waiting to be rejected.
Now he walked as if he belonged here. Or rather, he walked with the confidence that he was wanted. That took him by surprise, but he already stood in the doorframe, unable to process the thought fully.
No one was in the lab.
A cursory glimpse told him that both Parker's and Whitman's belongings remained, meaning they had probably gone out somewhere close by to have dinner.
He entered the lab, debating if he should wait for them or not. He knew the place as well as he knew his own room: Lab stations, expensive equipment, immaculate order. This was a lab run by one Elizabeth Parker, a lab that came with a set of rules posted on a big colorful billboard beside the door.
At his left, Parker's microscope reminded him that she literally saw into his deepest secrets.
The first time he'd seen her here, she'd been looking at some tiny sample while the silence of the lab wrapped around her. Of all the details he'd come to know about her, that one aspect still piqued his curiosity: she didn't mind the silence.
Most people would have been listening to something. At the very least, they would have been humming or—worse—talking to themselves. But Parker never seemed to mind it, never seemed to want to break it. She belonged here, in her lab, doing the work she loved, happy with the choices she'd made in her past. She had everything he wanted: a fulfilling life. Maybe she could teach him how to get it right once he was out.
He looked at the clock on the wall, and sighed. For the first time since he'd followed Parker, she was out before 5:30pm, a treat for her. She'd put so much of her time into helping him, that he felt like a selfish jerk for being disappointed that she wasn't working late. Again.
Granted, he'd been looking forward to seeing her, but standing here without her left him feeling lost.
He frowned, a curious idea running at the back of his mind. A flash from Parker was almost as good as seeing her, he guessed, tentatively raising his hand to her microscope. Weeks ago, he'd been afraid of getting too many flashes at once, too much information. But now he had the hang of it, it was worth it to coax a moment of Parker's life.
He touched Parker's favorite toy before he decided against it. Harvard came all at once, all shiny and imposing and grand, the way Parker had seen it the first day she stepped through the iron gates of her new home. She'd loved it in a way Max had never loved anything in his life.
His fingers moved over the counter, eager for more. He was drunk in her life, running through a myriad of images from Parker's childhood and her complicated mind when it came to formulas and equations. She wasn't a complicated person per se, but she could deal with tons of numbers and make sense out of them the same way he made sense out of blueprints and tactics.
Max had been encouraged in physics and math, certainly on how to cook up a bomb on short notice, but he'd never been pushed towards the world of chemistry, where molecules ruled the world. He didn't know what to do with Parker's information any more than she would know how to use his powers.
He was so impatient to find little treasures from her past, he was getting
too many of them, a kaleidoscope of stories, and smiles and tears.
Calm down, he scolded to himself, his shoulders relaxing and his breathing slowing. Trying to elicit memories out of ordinary objects took its toll.
Oh my God, Maria! He's totally not worth it! a teenage Parker laughed over ice cream, her best friend flashing in his mind in the way Parker saw her: spirited, wild, and loyal. A friend in every way, someone who was there despite their differences. Maria reminded her that the wild side of life was not all that bad.
He let the moment go, hunting for something more immediate. He found it when he touched a pen. She was looking at his blood, and the avalanche of emotions that crushed him a moment later made him lose his concentration. He staggered a bit, bewildered at how women could balance so many feelings at the same time. Fear mixed with wonder, and that mixed with horror at the unknown and the exhilarating thought of discovery. She wanted to leave, she wanted to stay, she wanted to run a hundred tests, and she wanted to see him again. She worried about him.
"Wow," Max whispered. She amazed him.
He missed her. He truly, achingly,
missed her.
His phone vibrated, the alarm telling him it was time to go. He could spend only so much time up here before it became suspicious. He had to head back to the base, back to his life. Nodding to himself, he walked out of Parker's lab, absently touching the doorframe were he used to spend so much time.
The flash was crystal clear, almost as if John were in front of him:
I'm not done yet. Whatever John wanted, it had nothing to do with Max, and that scared the hell out of him.