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Station 45 - home of Anderson Cleary, the youngest Chief in the history of Cascade. This man gave his all for the station. He brought it back from the brink of closure as a Captain. He remodeled the building, made sure that everything out of date was improved and replaced. However, the station soon came upon turmoil as it was torn in half by the actions of two men. Even after all the close calls he had gone through, nothing could take him away from his beloved station and job. That was until his life was taken in the performance of his duties. It left the station in shock of losing their leader and friend.
As they gave the highly decorated hero his final ride on the truck and laid him to rest, a new threat came to Station 45 and the two others in the city. A pyromaniac was about to make his mark on the city and give this station a new threat to face without their leader. This wasn't their only problem. The actions of two men a few weeks before Anderson's death left the station torn. Five crew members and a Captain was replaced and left a gap in the personnel. Now this burden rests upon the shoulders of a new Chief and old friend to Anderson - Gavin O'Leary.
Elliott Johnson Fire Fighter Forcible Entry Team member is offline
Tomorrow's for the fires we don't put out today[D3v:short-leaf-fan]
Joined: Oct 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 196 Karma: 0
Scare Tactics « Thread Started on Nov 4, 2009, 7:16pm »
Elliott was nearly half asleep as he stepped out of his SUV and began heading towards his apartment. It had been a long shift and he hadn't been able to get much sleep during the night. It was Saturday morning, and Michelle and Jamie were supposed to stop by later that afternoon for dinner, and he'd already done his grocery shopping. He'd settled on making Chicken Parmigiana served with fresh fettuccine. He had also picked up a loaf of french bread to make garlic toast with. Essentially, the meal was loaded with carbs, which was a typical meal at the fire house. After all, carbs and protein kept them going long into the night when a call was especially grueling.
For now, his plans were to grab a few hours sleep before tidying up the place and getting ready to receive company. He didn't have people over very often, and to him, having Michelle and Jamie over was quite important. Elliott fumbled with his keys as he reached his door before he realized that the door was ajar just a crack. Jolted from his sleepy state, he stiffened and became alert. Against his better judgment, he used the back of his hand to push the door open. Nothing could have readied him for the sight inside.
He'd seen things like this on television before. Drawers in the kitchen were open, cutlery strewn about. The cushions from the living room furniture had been tossed, and the newspaper that had been on the coffee table was tossed around the room. He methodically made his way through the rooms, taking inventory to see if anything had been stolen. Really, he didn't have anything of much value, and his television hadn't been touched. Neither had anything else, it seemed. Now instead of his nap, he had a mess to clean up before the Marshal arrived.
With the door closed and locked, Elliott thought long and hard about calling the police, but he didn't have much faith in them anymore. Besides, nothing had been taken, so he doubted they would try very hard to figure out who had broken into his apartment. So, he began cleaning, starting with picking up knives, forks and spoons from the floor and putting them into a sink full of soapy water to be washed. The living room was righted and his furniture rearranged, and in his bedroom, he made his bed and folded his clothes again, shoving them back into their respective drawers. Everything had been knocked from his nightstand, and as he was placing the lamp back, he noticed one thing left sitting there.
He picked the small token from its resting place, his eyes wide. Slowly he turned the ring, and nearly dropped it when he saw the name "Sierra" carved on one side, and his sisters year of graduation on the other side. His hands began to tremble and he sat the ring back on his nightstand. If this was meant to send some sort of message, that message was lost on Elliott as he tried to gather himself. A simple B&E, he could deal with. That sort of freaky shit, not so much. He glanced at his alarm clock, now sitting on the nightstand where it belonged. It was almost one o'clock in the afternoon. He'd been home for nearly four hours, and had spent all that time cleaning.
He managed to take a shower and nap for about an hour and a half on the couch before he woke up and started the prep work for supper. He didn't want to be tied to the stove once they got there, so he was doing everything he could while he was alone. He'd turned the television to CMT and listened to Taylor Swift sing something about love. He couldn't stand that country artist, for one reason or another, but her voice didn't last long until it was replaced by Dierks Bentley. Much better. A quick glance at the clock revealed it was after three - and things were well under way. Despite the distraction of prepping supper, his mind kept wandering back to the grad ring on his nightstand. He couldn't remember who'd had it last after his sisters passing, or who could have had it. Regardless, it had shaken him to his core - much more than some miniature representation of an arson he'd worked.
Re: Scare Tactics « Reply #1 on Nov 5, 2009, 1:47am »
Michelle parked on the street in front of Elliott's building at about five pm, double checking the address he had given her when he had called her a few days ago. She was already set off kilter by her doctor's appointment on Wednesday and hadn't spoken with him much since then. She wasn't quite sure how to. Fortunately, Jamie seemed more than willing to take that load off her back because he had come prepared with a notebook and pen to take notes on the answers Elliott gave to any of his questions. That meant she could discuss mundane things, things of little importance or thought. There was just no way she was prepared for life any more. Not that one was meant to be prepared, but she had at least thought she had held some control. Turned out, she hadn't had any.
Michelle had a melee of baked goods on a tray covered in plastic wrap and Jamie was carrying an apple pie in one hand and a raspberry, blueberry, blackberry mix pie in the other. She'd more or less brought stuff over for Elliott to snack on since she baked when she got stressed, and their house was filled with cookies, breads, cupcakes, cakes, pies, the whole nine yards. While her wife and child and Jamie's school mates thoroughly enjoyed it, Katie hadn't stopped pestering her about what was wrong. "Mo-om," Jamie complained as they headed to the door, Michelle pausing to knock to announce their presence, "He's gunna think you're trying to make him into Thanksgiving dinner bringing him all this sugary shit."
Michelle scoffed. "You didn't think it was shit when you tried to sneak a cookie for breakfast, did you?" She raised an eyebrow, but she wasn't mad. Jamie smiled sheepishly and pulled a plastic-wrapped sugar cookie from his pocket. Michelle rolled her eyes. "Jesus, child." Elliott opened the door, and instantly, Michelle knew something was wrong. It was that maternal sixth sense that had always been with her, but had definately heightened after Jamie was born. Elliott was easy for her to read, too. He was like an open book, and she was getting the hang of his cues very quickly. That they had worked together under a great deal of stress first had probably helped things out a lot.
"Hey, El," she said as she followed him inside, tucking her shoes just beside the door. Jamie followed suit, echoing the same greeting, though he used 'Elliott' instead of 'El.' She kissed his cheek lightly, holding the tray out of the way so she didn't drop it. "Sorry. I got carried away on the whole dessert thing. On the brightside, you have plenty to last you a while." Her fingers relaxed momentarily on his arm, her eyes asking what was wrong.
Jamie, prone to making himself comfortable in anyone's home-- he was a teenage boy and accustomed to staying at his friends' houses for sleep overs, parties, and the like-- took the tray from Michelle after depositing his notebook and pen next to his shoes. He was an intuitive child, a trait he had adopted from Michelle mostly, though his eternal patience came from Richard. His tendancy to withdraw was Michelle's. His insatiable appetite for knowledge was Richard's. Michelle could go through and list every trait and habit and knew where he had picked it up from. His recent obsession with bubblegum had been spawned from Katie always chewing a piece. Of course, she chewed gum so that she was constantly secreting saliva considering her job was to talk all day between two different languages, seldom with a water break until court went to recess or closed. "I'm gunna put the pies in the 'fridge," he called as he followed his nose to the kitchen where something smelled really good.
"El," Michelle pleaded, "what's going on? You're beat first of all, but you look like someone's short circuited your main frame." She curled her fingers over her palm and ran them along his cheek checking for a temperature. He looked worse than she had seen him in a long while, though this looked like a different kind of worse than the overheating he had done what felt like eons ago now but was merely weeks. Not finding something to be concerned about-- he had been in the kitchen cooking-- she traced her fingers over the outline of his ear, her hand coming to rest on his chest.
Jamie popped his head out of the kitchen, shouting excitedly, "Mamma! Ha fatto il pollo e la pasta!"
Sighing, Michelle smacked her head. "Katie's teaching him Italian. He thinks he has to use it all the time now. It's everything I can do to keep up." Her wife was Swedish-Italian and spoke both languages fluently, though used mostly Italian in the court which just went swimmingly, because Michelle knew a lot of the arrestees she translated on behalf of were associated with the mafia. "Ciņ č piacevole." She waved her hand dismissively as she answered him in a mock 'couldcareless' manner, though gave him a warm smile.
"Mom! You're pronouncing it wrong! It should be-"
"Mordermi." Jamie stared in shock for a second then burst out laughing. That little phrase had been the first thing Katie had taught her. Literally, it meant 'bite me.' She turned back to Elliott offering him a condoling smile. Jamie had saved him from her prying for now, but she would get to the bottom of it, sooner or later. "He's excited you made chicken and pasta. Smells wonderful, Elliott. Thank you again for the invite."
Elliott Johnson Fire Fighter Forcible Entry Team member is offline
Tomorrow's for the fires we don't put out today[D3v:short-leaf-fan]
Joined: Oct 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 196 Karma: 0
Re: Scare Tactics « Reply #2 on Nov 5, 2009, 5:36pm »
Moose knew he had to get over it, and fast. Michelle would be on her way with her son, and there was no way he could hide anything from Michelle, even if he tried. She could read him like an open book now, and despite the fact that he absolutely hated that fact, it usually forced him to open up about things that he would keep secret and try to suppress so it couldn't bother him. This thing was one of those things. While he wouldn't be able to forget about it easily, he couldn't let that distract him much longer. When he went back to the station in the morning, his mind had to be clear, and he had to be on top of his game. If he wasn't, one of his crew might get hurt because of a lack of judgment on his part. Or, he could get hurt as well. Neither were good outcomes.
Elliott managed to get a little rest before he heard the knock on his door. He'd been sitting on the couch, channel surfing when her arrival had made him jump to his feet, turning the TV off and tossing the remote on the couch. He opened the door and offered them both a smile, stepping back to let them into his apartment. "Hey", he greeted them both as they removed their shoes. He could already tell that Michelle knew something was wrong. He was busted before he'd even had a chance to cover up. He had noticed the notebook that Jamie was toting, so he figured that they would be playing twenty questions after dinner. Not that he minded. He'd also noted the array of sweets that she had brought with her. Considering he didn't spend a whole lot of time at home, he figured he'd have to take a pie with him to the station or something so that her baking didn't go to waste. It certainly wouldn't go to waste there.
Jamie disappeared into the kitchen with the sweets, and Michelle pounced on Elliott. Not that he hadn't expected her to ask what the hell was going on. If only she had seen his apartment just hours earlier, ransacked. He was aware that he looked shell shocked, and though he was trying to forget the ring, he couldn't. "I had a rough night, that's all", he told her, lying through his teeth. Well, technically, he'd had a rough night, but he was lying by omission - something he really didn't want to do. She checked his temperature, but he wasn't sick. Not physically, at least. Mentally, right now, he was a little messed up. Someone was playing a sick game with him, and he wasn't exactly willing to play anymore.
Jamie reappeared. Thank god - he was a very welcome distraction at this point, even if Elliott couldn't speak Italian. Moose wasn't bilingual in any language, though there were many 'fighters at the station who could speak French or Spanish. Sometimes it came in useful at a scene where the victims couldn't speak English. He chuckled as Jamie tried to correct his mothers pronunciation of something Moose couldn't understand, and Michelle cut him off. It had shut the kid up quite well, until he started laughing. Boy, did he ever feel out of the loop.
He placed a hand on her lower back, escorting her further into his apartment as she spoke. "I figured that it would be a safe bet. Looks like I was right", he told her as he stepped into the kitchen. He had fried the breaded chicken cutlets and they were now in the oven, covered with mozzarella cheese and pasta sauce. The loaf of french bread had been sliced and fanned out on a cookie sheet, buttered with garlic butter, and ready to put into the oven to toast. "Can I get you anything to drink?", he asked, looking at Jamie first, then Michelle. He had soda in the fridge along with juice, iced tea, and milk - not due to expire for another week.
Re: Scare Tactics « Reply #3 on Nov 6, 2009, 2:23am »
Michelle took the opportunity to take in Elliott's surroundings as she let him lead her to the kitchen, a teenage boy haven if the state of the kitchen the morning after Jamie's friends stayed over was anything to judge by. He had a neat, orderly home, though it looked as if he had quickly done some rearranging today. Some of it seemed a little off, the occasional thing being so obviously out of place amoung things organized. Like he had picked something up and been too tired to bother replacing it. Which, it may very well have been just that. She didn't know other than the fact that there was something he wasn't telling her. Then again, there were secrets between them. Not everything had to be shared. It was all a matter of trusting the other person to share at least necessary information. And, Michelle trusted Elliott.
They entered the kitchen to find Jamie perched on the counter, his legs crossed, munching on a sugar cookie. Playfully, Michelle smacked her son upside the back of the head. Instantly, Jamie's hands covered the cookie and he set it down on the plastic wrap he had peeled it from. "One of these days, I'm gunna sit and make you eat sugar cookies until you pop. Not before dinner. And, counter."
"Sorry, Mom. I'm just hungry." Jamie gave Elliott a cheesy smile before jumping down from the counter. "Uhm, can I have OJ? Thanks, Elliott!" Her child withdrew a little once he had a glass of orange juice, finding himself a real chair and sitting in it, the cup in front of him on the table. They weren't a soda-drinking family. Michelle seldom bought it, unless there was a party or some other social gathering. Katie occasionally brought in a two litre and a pizza home, but not too often.
"Water?" Michelle asked, her voice rising in question as she lean against the counter, "Is there anything I can help you finish up?" Everything looked about done, but Michelle had a thing for feeling useful and didn't quite feel up to snuff if she wasn't being useful. That, and, any distraction was a welcome one. While she wasn't under quite the same kind of stress Elliott was, she knew she had a conversation coming up with him that she simply could not avoid. He could play stupid about whatever was bugging him, and Michelle would let him. But, it wasn't fair at all if she didn't at least talk to him about what was going on with her. Granted, she was much more concerned about Elliott. That he wasn't telling her something meant that it was likely of personal magnitude which would affect his work, his mood, and the sleep he got that night which would in turn affect the previous two as well. It was a vicious cycle she had seen him go through and been through herself enough to understand it at least somewhat.
Elliott Johnson Fire Fighter Forcible Entry Team member is offline
Tomorrow's for the fires we don't put out today[D3v:short-leaf-fan]
Joined: Oct 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 196 Karma: 0
Re: Scare Tactics « Reply #4 on Nov 6, 2009, 10:53pm »
Elliott's apartment had the 'hardly lived in' feel. Considering he was only able to spend time in his apartment every other day, he rarely was home. On his day off, he spent his time catching up on stuff that needed to be done, whether it was shopping or laundry, which kept him out of the house as well. His bedroom was the only room that looked lived in, and in reality, he spent the majority of his time off there, trying to catch up on sleep. In his attempt to clean this morning, he realized that not everything that had been disturbed had made its way back to where it had originally belonged. By the end of it, he had been too tired to bother. He could rearrange things later.
When Jamie said he was hungry, Moose moved from Michelle's side to the oven. He had a pot of water sitting on the stove and he turned the burner on, getting ready to cook the pasta. It wouldn't take much more than fifteen minutes until supper was ready. "We'll eat soon", he assured the boy, and opened the oven to remove the glass casserole dish that was covered in foil. The chicken was ready, so he sat it on a wire cooling rack on the counter, and using his oven mitts, he adjusted the height of the rack in the oven so he could broil the garlic toast when he was ready.
Elliott withdrew three glasses from the cupboard, thankful that whoever had been inside his home earlier hadn't smashed his dishes. He opened the fridge, and with one hand he withdrew the carton of orange juice, the other, his Brita water purifier. He poured Jamie a glass of juice, and filled his and Michelle's glasses with water. He handed them both their glasses, and leaned back against the counter. Shaking his head, he glanced towards the stove. "I think I've got everything pretty much ready. It should only be another fifteen minutes or so", he announced, more for Jamie's benefit than Michelle's. After all, he was hungry. "All I need for you to do is sit down and relax", he smiled.
What Elliott was keeping from Michelle was most definitely personal. Should he share it with her? Probably. Would it affect his work? Probably. He was doing his best right now not to think about that small piece of precious metal sitting on his nightstand. If he could ignore it now, it would be that much easier to ignore the next morning when he went to work. If one of his crew members got hurt because of his incompetence due to a distraction, he'd never forgive himself. Maybe later, when he was finished thinking things over and trying to process who had done this and why he was being targeted, would he then explain to Michelle what was happening. Until then, he had to mull things over. Glancing at the stove again, he noted the steam rolling from the pot. He grabbed the package of pasta, and dropped the fettuccine into the boiling, salted water, stirring the pasta with tongs for a moment before letting the water come back to a boil.
Re: Scare Tactics « Reply #5 on Nov 7, 2009, 2:41am »
Michelle took a sip of her water watching Elliott put the water on to boil and proceed to prepare pasta. She set the glass in her hand down and put her hand over his as he joined her leaning against the counter. Wriggling her fingers between his, she used her index finger to rub back and forth against his index finger, concentrating around his knuckle where she used her nail to trace the lines in the skin over that part of the bones. "El," she murmured, her head against his shoulder, "you're incredibly distracted. I'm worried about you."
She turned her eyes up to his, looking for something indicative in his eyes to let her know how she could help him out. It made her feel uneasy that something was so deeply bothering him that it was reflected in his eyes. That kind of soul churning affect was never a healthy one. "Will you tell me eventually, El?" she said, kissing his neck a couple of times, "Not now; when you feel comfortable. But, eventually?" Normally, she wouldn't have been so disturbed by the fact that something was bothering him, but with her hormones and emotions all across the board, things were bugging her a lot easier than they normally would have. Fortunately, the nausea was ebbing even more, though it had caused her doctor some concern when she said she hadn't had any, then it had been incredibly violent and flu-like, and now it was becoming more and more rare. Normally, it wouldn't have been too much of a worry, but Michelle's medical history made anything a concern. God, what she wouldn't give for a societally acceptable life.
Jamie had abandoned his orange juice at the table since he wasn't allowed to drink in the living room at the house and had gone to watch the television, switching it to the Discovery Channel. Her strange child didn't watch cartoons. He never really had. However, the Learning Channel and the Discovery Channel had always been two of his favourites. Fortunately, he was easy to occupy and went with the flow all too easily. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Michelle was all over the place with her work and had been his entire life and he had been raised without strict rules governing his habits. Even Katie wasn't hard on him. Most of his 'punishment' was a playful smack on the back of the head, but there hadn't often been a greater reason to do something more drastic such as ground him. Occasionally, yes, but those times were rare.
He was fully aware of the relationship between Elliott and Michelle, though he hadn't actually asked. Michelle had never really needed to explain things to him, though she had told him if he ever felt uncomfortable or didn't like someone to tell her and she would end things immediately. To her child, they were just normal. She could remember in the first grade when she had gotten a phone call from a very confused teacher and had to pick up a very distraught son from class in the middle of the day because Jamie had told some kids he had two dads-- Michelle had been married to Richard at the time and had a military boyfriend who visited whenever he was in town. The relationship lasted for almost six years, and Jamie had been a little under a year when Michelle had met Tommy, so the man was a constant part of his life.
However, Jamie had neglected to tell the boys he had a mother, and the kids had ganged up on him, calling him a faggot. Jamie hadn't understood what the word meant and had asked his teacher. The woman hadn't explained it, but had asked who had said it. When it unraveled that Jamie had told the other boys on the playground his dads were taking him to a hockey game next month-- Richard and Tommy had been good friends, even up to Richard's death which Tommy had taken like the death of a brother-- the kids had freaked and started picking on him over it. After that, Jamie had never mentioned anything to anyone again, but Michelle had also explained why other kids might not understand. Jamie had responded with an 'oh' and a shrug. He'd learned the hard way to keep his mouth shut, and the fire fighter had sweet talked the curiosity out of the school administration.
Michelle was just about to ask Jamie to switch channels-- he was watching A Haunting which gave Michelle the heebie jeebies-- when the lights flickered and went out taking the rest of the electricy with them. "Huh," Michelle murmured as her eyes started to adjust to the sudden darkness. It wasn't horrible because of the windows, but with the sky being somewhat dark already, it wasn't exactly light either. She pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket to see the dials on the stove to turn it off. She did the same to the oven. That the electricity hadn't come immediately back to life had instilled the habit in her to just go through and turn everything off. Even if it fluttered back to life in a minute or two, at least it lessened the load as to what the system needed to power back on. "Always an adventure with you." Michelle laughed. Power outages were common place in New York and when they were living in an apartment in Seattle, they had happened a lot, too. For her, they were nothing to be concerned about. She figured it was probably the same around here if not worse. The buildings tended to be older.
Light filtered in from under the front door which Jamie was kind enough to point out. "Maybe a fuse?" Michelle suggested, somewhat annoyed by the darkness. There she went with her haywire emotions again, though she tended to keep them suppressed just enough to get through the day. She could explode at night in the shower, though she had gotten noisy a few times, prompting Katie to sit on the bathroom counter until Michelle was done. Words were never exchanged, just eye communication. Sometimes, it spoke volumes, but it was clear neither woman had a good explination for anything.
Elliott Johnson Fire Fighter Forcible Entry Team member is offline
Tomorrow's for the fires we don't put out today[D3v:short-leaf-fan]
Joined: Oct 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 196 Karma: 0
Re: Scare Tactics « Reply #6 on Nov 7, 2009, 10:19pm »
Moose glanced down at Michelle's hand on his. She was intuitive enough to know that something was seriously wrong with him at the moment. Jamie might not notice that something was off, but the Marshal certainly did, despite his failed attempts at hiding the war he was waging with himself. "You don't need to worry about me, Michelle", he said quietly, trying to assuage her fears. Once he came to terms with what he had discovered, he would be alright again. It might take some time for him to push aside the feelings that had been dredged up, but eventually he'd be back to normal. All he could do was hope that it didn't affect him so profoundly that he started screwing up at work.
He couldn't guarantee her that he would tell her. Maybe later, once things had blown over and he had a reign over his emotions again, but even then, he didn't want to saddle her with the fact that someone had broken into his home. He didn't believe that the miniature warehouse and this break and enter were connected, so he didn't feel a need to tell her about the little gift someone had left for him at work either. Still, he felt the need to reassure her - he didn't want her stressing over something she couldn't control or change. "Maybe later, but not right now. I've gotta come to terms with it first", he explained. He glanced towards where Jamie had taken a seat, only to find the seat empty and the glass of juice sitting there - the kid nowhere in sight.
But, he could hear the television from the living room, and it wasn't on the station he'd left it on. That was fine by him, and it came as a relief that Jamie could occupy himself. Elliott would gladly occupy him after dinner, answering any questions he had for his project, but he didn't know how to really entertain someone Jamie's age. He grabbed his glass of water from the counter and took a sip, the only sounds filling the kitchen was the bubbling of the boiling water and the faint noise of the TV. He turned to say something to Michelle when the lights went out, and he groaned. Of course, he couldn't have company and have things go as planned. Something had to happen to ruin it.
"Shit", he cursed - a bad habit of his that never usually came out un;ess he was extremely pissed off and stressed to the max. Or at work. He was rummaging through his junk drawer there in the kitchen when she suggested it might be a fuse. Each unit in the building had a separate fuse box in their suites, but there was a master breaker box in the basement. As luck would have it, the super was gone for the weekend. Finally he found what he had been looking for - his flashlight - and he flicked it on. There wasn't much light coming from outside - the sun was setting and the sky was overcast, and the streetlights didn't cast much light through the windows.
"I'll check the fuse box in here - if it's not tripped in here, it's gotta be downstairs", he explained, heading from the kitchen to his bedroom, where the fuse box could be found hidden in his closet. As he walked by his beside table, he grabbed his sisters ring and slipped it into his pocket. He opened his closet and checked the breakers. All were in the on position. None of them had been tripped, causing the outage. The light filtering in from beneath the door had to have been the emergency lights that were a standard part of the building code. Finding another flashlight in his closet, he brought it back out with him and handed it to Michelle.
"It's not a breaker in here", he told her, shrugging. "The power is probably out to all the building. I'll be right back - I'm gonna go check the master breakers in the basement". Power outages weren't all that common in his building, despite the fact that the building was aging. Without another word, he slipped from his apartment and made his way to the stairs. There was no need for the flashlight as he made his way down the hallway, but it was pitch black in the basement. Moose, however, knew his way around the basement - having been down there a time or two when the superintendent was gone.
Re: Scare Tactics « Reply #7 on Nov 8, 2009, 1:16am »
Michelle used her cell phone as a sort of temporary flashlight. She went around the apartment turning all the lights off except the one in the kitchen so they would have a better idea when the electricity actually came back on. Michelle didn't always look for or notice the digital clocks, so a light was just a safe bet.
"Mom?" Jamie called as Elliott checked the breaker in the actual apartment. Michelle plopped herself on the couch next to him and he curled up beside her, his head in her lap. "Hey, mom, it's colder in here." Michelle was tempted to say it would be without the heater running, but she understood what Jamie was saying. It was drastically cooler in the apartment, but the woman wasn't too worried. Some places just cooled down faster than others.
"It's alright, kiddo," she said as Elliott returned from the other room, second flashlight in hand. Michelle took that one and flicked it on, grateful that there was more light now than with her flashlight. Sunlight was fading fast. It always seemed to get light quickly and get dark quickly. The rest of the day passed by in a slow motion blur. At least, that was her opinion. "Thanks, El."
When he mentioned that it was probably the breaker in the basement, Michelle's hair stood on end. Not because of the basement, but because she had the keen sense that someone was watching them. She thought maybe it was left over creeps from the show Jamie had been watching before the power snapped, but something in her gut told her to stay alert. Chances were, it was just man's premordial fear of the darkness, but she listened to her gut. It was right more than it was wrong. "Careful," she said as he left. She didn't know why she said it, but it seemed like it needed to be said.
Elliott had maybe been gone two minutes when Jamie abruptly sat bolt upright sending a chill through Michelle's blood. "I'm gunna check the hallway. Maybe the neighbors are having the same problem," Jamie said, but even without the light, Michelle knew he was chewing on his lip. His sense of all things eerie and out of place was going off like radar beacons to a nuclear missle. About a moment later, she felt something brush up against her hair, and, following her better judgment, she didn't turn to look.
Michelle nodded, hearding him to the door, consciously weighing the flashlight in her hands. She could swear she heard someone walking around in here, and Elliott had never said shit about having pets. She opened the door. The hallway had a few of Elliott's neighbors milling around in it, each discussing what might be the problem. As she was shutting the door behind her to join the chatter, she saw the reflection of a human shadow cast along the wall of the apartment. It was just a flicker of a shadow. She wasn't one hundred percent sure if she saw it, but at this point, there was no way in Hell she was going back in there without a gun and perferably a police officer attached to it to clear the area.
Closing the door, she turned off her flashlight. Jamie had already befriended a boy a couple of years older than him that lived a few doors down, and Michelle went that direction, wanting to keep her son close. Elliott must have done something down in the basement because a couple of minutes later, the regular lights came back on. The family Michelle and Jamie had been talking with noticed that Michelle was about as white as a sheet, and she had the goosebumps on her arms to prove it. The boy's- Steven's- mother asked if anything was wrong. Michelle answered no, but said they would just wait in the hall for Elliott. Sensing her unease, Steven's father, Eric, offered to stay in the hall with them. Michelle tried to disuade him by telling him she was probably just over reacting. That, as she sank down to the floor, her body trembling so much she was unable to support herself. She gave Jamie permission to go into the apartment since Steven had a chemistry set Jamie was interested in seeing. Michelle didn't want to leave the hallway so Elliott didn't go in there and find that it wasn't just Michelle's imagination being overactive. Playing it safe and paranoid was better than the possible alternative. She was borderlining on a panic attack at any rate.
Eric offered to call the police and have an officer just do a run through of the apartment to make sure no one was there. Michelle shrugged and said it would be entirely up to Elliott. Michelle had a gun in her car. As an Arson Investigator, she had become accustomed to carrying the service weapon in New York as the investigators out there actually didn't get involved in the line drive as they did out here and were literally uniformed law enforcement with city jurisdiction over one type of crime. Out here, they seemed to double as regular 'fighters as well as investigators leaving them very busy indeed. She jumped a little when she heard someone walking up the stairs, but when she looked and saw Elliott, she started breathing again.
"Fuck, El," she muttered, tugging her fingers through her hair, "someone was in your damn apartment." She rested her head back against the wall, forcing herself to swallow. "Jamie's in there-" She gestuculated absently to Eric and Wendy's apartment where Jamie and Steven were probably concocting a rubbery substance. If she remembered correctly, that was what all of Jamie's chem sets that he had bought or gotten as presents had eventually lead to. She officially hated being pregnant. With Jamie, she had a difficult time dealing with panic as well, and as a fire fighter, she had been grateful she had immediately stepped back to desk work. It seemed it wasn't any better the second time around, but she was quickly becoming more normal, a much easier process with Elliott around since it meant she knew he was safe.
Elliott Johnson Fire Fighter Forcible Entry Team member is offline
Tomorrow's for the fires we don't put out today[D3v:short-leaf-fan]
Joined: Oct 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 196 Karma: 0
Re: Scare Tactics « Reply #8 on Nov 8, 2009, 8:44pm »
Michelle didn't need to tell him to be careful. With what had happened earlier, he certainly wasn't taking any chances. But, someone had to go downstairs and investigate. It could just be something minor, like a tripped breaker from an overloaded circuit. Or, someone might have been down there before him and had tampered with it. He didn't want to think like that. He preferred the overloaded circuit theory, especially where he'd left Michelle and Jamie alone back in his apartment. Of course, once he was in the basement, he remembered that he probably should have told Michelle to lock the door after him, just as a precaution. But, he may have worried her had he done that. Still, better safe than sorry.
When he reached the fuse box, he tucked the maglite that he was carrying in the crook of his neck, tilting his head to keep the flashlight on his shoulder. With the beam of light directed on the metal casing, he opened it. The old steel door creaked on its hinges, and he was surprised with what he saw. Even with rolling blackouts, not all breakers kicked. All of the breakers had been tripped, and he didn't doubt that some hoodlum had done it. Sighing heavily, thoroughly annoyed, he flicked them all back to the 'on' position, one by one. Content that he had solved their problem - given that the lights had come back on - he headed back upstairs, the flashlight now off.
Finally, he rejoined Michelle, who looked as though she had seen a ghost. He raised an eyebrow - Jamie wasn't in the hallway, but one of his neighbors was sticking around. She looked distraught, and he knelt down beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder and laying the Maglite on the floor. "It's OK... it's OK", he reassured her, rubbing her arm gently. "Call the police", With the flashlight back in his hand, he glanced towards his door. Surely whoever had been in there would have made a mad dash for it by now, once the lights had come back on. "I'm gonna go take a quick peek around - I'll be right back", he promised, kissing her lightly before standing up. The Maglite would make a good weapon if he had to use it, and he figured that Michelle had gone around, turning off light switches, like she had turned off the stove when the power had first gone out.
Re: Scare Tactics « Reply #9 on Nov 9, 2009, 2:12am »
Michelle stood up with Elliott. She figured the guy was gone, but she wasn't about to let him go into the apartment by himself and she wasn't about to try to talk him out of it. Eric had pulled out his cell phone and was calling the police now that Michelle had actually said what was bothering her. "You're not going in by yourself," she said. There was the chance that the person was still in there.
Even without the apartment door locked, the door hadn't been opened for someone to get in during the outage. Going through the windows was unlikely given the height of the building unless there was a fire escape the person had come through. Inside, she flipped on the lights. It wasn't like they were needing to be stealthy. Every window in the apartment was open. It was just as they had left it when the power went out otherwise. Michelle didn't understand. Then again, she didn't know if anything was missing. Maybe the person had just taken the opportunity to come in and steal one thing of value.
Unfortunately, her mind also wandered to Walden. The police still hadn't found his body, and with Elliott's statement regarding the fact that Walden didn't seem like the kind of guy to kill himself, she wondered if maybe he was still alive. That thought gave her goose bumps, and she stuck close to Elliott, her fingers curled around his shirt. She didn't want to give voice to her thought at all but knew she would say something once they checked the whole place. As they checked the place, she kept her eyes concentrated on any movement from the direction they had just left. Once they cleared the place, though, she pulled Elliott back into the hallway, begging him with her eyes.
Two uniformed police officers were heading up the stairs as Michelle pulled the door behind them. "There's no one in the apartment now," she said, keeping her body close to Elliott. Part of it was to protect him. She didn't know if Walden was still after him or if it had been a random breaking and entering. Subconsciously, she had one hand curled in a loose fist at her stomach, the other hand had found Elliott's arm and was gently holding to that while she rested her head in the crook of his neck.
The two officers did a sweep of the apartment anyway, making sure the two fire fighters didn't miss anyone. By then, Michelle had broken away from Elliott and grabbed Jamie from his neighbor's apartment. The officers had them sit down on the couch in the living room so they could go over everything that the two witnessed. Michelle was clearly agitated. Sitting on the couch, she alternated between glancing behind her at the slightest noise and touching her hair as if protecting it from the hand that had grazed it earlier.
Michelle let Elliott do most of the talking. She didn't really feel like it at the moment. Jamie was curled on the couch playing with some sticky substance he and Steven had created in the twenty minutes that he had been back there. It would figure. When they asked Elliott to do a walk through with him and note anything missing, Michelle let go of him, opting to stay on the couch as he did so. Michelle took the opportunity to process through everything Elliott had said as well as everything her mind was darting to. It was obvious the break in to the apartment and the power outage were not coincidental. Chances were, the person in the apartment was intimate with Elliott's place, whether or not he was so knowledgeable was because Elliott had invited him in seemed obsolete.
After the police released them, asking them to stay in a hotel for a night while they did a run through with the techies, Michelle spoke. "El, come stay at my place. You don't need to stay in a hotel. The guest room is plenty big enough and probably a hell of a lot safer if someone's really trying to get after you." She knew Katie wouldn't have a problem with it. She just didn't know how the man she was dating would feel about staying in the home of the woman she was married to. While she didn't think it was awkward, Elliott might, but she knew she would worry if he was staying in a hotel while Crime Scene went through the place that night. She would worry even if he was allowed to stay there. This much in one day was a little too much, and it honestly scared her. Not a whole lot in this world truly frightened her, but a threat to the safety of someone she cared for did it.
"It'll be fun, Elloitt!" Jamie chimmed, not really caring about what was going on. He was nervous, but not overly so. He had always been protected by others and had no real reason to worry for his safety or for Elliott's safety. That, and, with a great deal of things, it wouldn't really hit him until tomorrow how much danger he and his mother had actually been in as well as Elliott which would frustrate him more than anything. "I've got a bunch of video games and-- agh! Mom! It's stuck." Jamie was furiously shaking his hand to get the goo off.
Michelle laughed. "Wash it off in the sink when we get home," she said as she rolled her eyes, "until then, you're stuck with it. Sorry, babe." She ruffled his hair affectionately but also because she knew he couldn't smooth it back down. He realized this, too, and glared at her before pouting. "What do you think, El?" All she knew was that she wanted to get out of here despite the unlikelihood that something would happen again. It still creeped her out that someone else had been there.
Elliott Johnson Fire Fighter Forcible Entry Team member is offline
Tomorrow's for the fires we don't put out today[D3v:short-leaf-fan]
Joined: Oct 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 196 Karma: 0
Re: Scare Tactics « Reply #10 on Nov 9, 2009, 6:11pm »
"Michelle...", he turned to argue with her, but if there was one thing that he had learned so far, it was that if she had her mind set on something, there was no way you could argue with her. So, instead of continuing, he shut his mouth and went into the apartment with her in tow. They did a quick sweep of his apartment, finding no one inside. One thing he noticed, however, was that a few things had been moved in his bedroom. He knew that Michelle wouldn't notice something that subtle where she had never been in his bedroom before, but he had noticed it. It was as though someone had come back looking for something. He figured that something would have been the ring that was in his pocket. Absently, one hand slipped into his pocket and clasped the small piece of metal as though to reassure himself it was indeed still there.
He left his apartment willingly as Michelle tugged him into the hallway. They were met by two police officers as they stepped out, Michelle pulling the door closed behind them. It was obvious that someone had been in there before, but were long gone now. The cops wouldn't see anything, but he wasn't stopping them from taking a look around. After all, if they had missed something, he didn't want to go back in there. He held Michelle close to him, somewhat confused by the goings on, and frustrated with the fact he couldn't do much about it, other than hope that he wasn't home if the person came back to visit again.
Michelle went and found Jamie, and the officers came back out, asking to speak with them. He hadn't really witnessed much, considering he had gone downstairs when the person had appeared in his apartment, but Michelle wasn't really contributing to the statement that the police were taking. He explained that he'd gone downstairs to find all of the breakers flipped off, which struck him as quite odd. He had restored the power, and had come back upstairs to find Michelle on the verge of a breakdown in the hall, with a few of his neighbors gathered around. When they were satisfied with their story, Elliott agreed to do a walk around.
When they reached his bedroom, he pointed out that his nightstand looked as though it had been rifled through. No one would notice it - the drawer was no more than a half an inch opened, but Elliott had noticed it. He was meticulous about things being the way they should be, and he most certainly wouldn't have left the drawer open. He explained the earlier happenings, about how he had returned to find his place trashed, then fished the ring out of his pocket. Holding it in his palm, he explained that it had been his sisters graduation ring, and that she had been killed thirteen years prior - something not many knew, and even fewer knew how badly it had affected him. Someone, he explained, was playing mind games with him. He also mentioned the diorama of the warehouse that he had found in his office a few days beforehand. They promised to meet him at the station the next day and take a look at it - he'd sat it in a corner and had tried to forget about it.
Finally, the police released them. Elliott had no intentions of staying in his apartment for the night, and didn't need to be asked twice to stay elsewhere. All he would need was an overnight bag with his uniform for the following shift, and clothes to change into. He had toiletries at the station, so he wouldn't need to bring a whole lot with him. Of course, Michelle offered for him to stay with her at Katie's. "Don't worry about it - I've gotta be at the station for eight", he explained. Then Jamie jumped in, excited with the possibility that Elliott would be spending the night. He couldn't say no to Jamie half as easily as Michelle, and saying no to Michelle was hard enough.
"Mmmk", he finally agreed. It would save him nearly a hundred bucks, and he'd probably be more at ease if he were around Michelle and Jamie than alone at a motel. And, like Michelle said - if someone was after him, he'd be safer at Michelle's as well. "Just let me get a few things first", he told her, and disappeared to pack a duffel bag with his uniform and pajama bottoms and clothes for the next day. He emerged from his bedroom a few moments later, ready to leave. Right now, he didn't know if he'd ever feel right in this apartment again. "So much for dinner", he sighed, shaking his head and glancing towards the kitchen. "Feel like going out?"
Re: Scare Tactics « Reply #11 on Nov 10, 2009, 1:51am »
Michelle's statements were breif, filling in where Elliott could not: feeling a hand on the back of her head, the shadow thrown against the wall, hearing footsteps, the windows all being open when the two had re-entered the apartment. Otherwise, she was quiet, focused on her hands, picking at her nails. In her work, as part of her job, she had no problems talking with the police. Personally, as odd at it seemed, she didn't like to be open with them. It wasn't an intimidation thing, but she just didn't like to answer the questions they asked.
"El," Michelle said when he returned with an overnight bag, "Lemme drive you to work tomorrow morning. Let the police check over your car. Obviously this guy knows you intimately, and I would hate for him to have cut your brakes." Michelle had a naturally dark mind. She could think of horrible things to do to people, but she never acted on those thoughts purely because she never had the urge to do so. Her thoughts kept her on her toes while trying to keep people safe. It was a technique developed while still living in New York, always to be one step ahead of a perp. For the most part, she was alright. Even if her precautions turned out unnecessary, the extra step wasn't a bg deal. "I don't work tomorrow, so once your car is cleared, I can drop it off at the station so you can drive it... wherever at the end of your shift."
Jamie was just excited one of his favorite people was staying the night. Michelle rolled her eyes when her son beamed. He didn't fully understand the gravity of the situation having always been protected from intense physical or possible intense physical harm except in the car accident. He understood it was bad that Elliott wasn't safe at his apartment, but he wasn't worried. To be blissfully innocent once more.
"How about Chinese pick up?" Michelle said, "We can pick up a movie at the video store and call it good." She had already text messaged Katie to let her know what was going on. The woman bore no mind to having Elliott stay the night. In fact, she was fairly worried about him staying alone in case he had a stalker. There was a reason Michelle loved that woman. "I'll let you two pick the movie. Not too much gore?" She smiled lightheartedly, but gore just wasn't her thing.
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