Title: Death Omens: Thief with a Heart
Characters: Adam Monroe/Bela Talbot, Dean Winchester
7_crossovers Prompt: 1. Eloquent
fic_variations Prompt: Heroes and Villains (#1)
Content Warning: Spoilers for 211: Powerless (Heroes).
Summary: Running in with Bela tends to get Adam into sticky situations.
Author's Note: I'll be writing the Dean/Elle part later, but this was what came out first.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Heroes or Supernautral. They're owned by NBC and the CW. However, any and all original characters are mine, so please do not use them without my permission.
Part 1 | Part 3
Frankly, this was starting to get embarrassing.
He could understand that she was upset about the stunt he had pulled on her in Tokyo. He hadn’t wanted to do that to her, but it was necessary at the time—self preservation and all that. He wasn’t about to be forced into another Company style situation, and if what could have been a beautiful business relationship was ruined in the process, so be it. His freedom mattered more to him than anything, and while he was grateful that she had dug him up, he wasn’t going to just sit idly by why she sold him off to the highest bidder. And he knew that she understood that. It just seemed that she was never going to forgive him for pulling one over on her like he did, and until she forgave him, he was going to continue to be tied to chairs when they happened to encounter each other.
“You know, Bela—we really have to stop meeting like this.”
“Well, if you stopped getting in my way, Adam, we wouldn’t be in this situation,” she replied, giving him a smirk as she went about her work. “But you seem to insist on getting in my way, therefore, I have to take measures to keep you out of it.”
Adam struggled slightly against the ropes that were currently binding him to the chair, before looking back up at her again. “Yes, but is the tying me up really necessary?”
“What better way to ensure you don’t get in my way then to restrain you?” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, how about shooting me? Is that always necessary?”
“Probably not,” she said with a smirk. “But that’s more to make me feel better.”
“So how many times do you have to shoot me before my wrong is righted in your mind?” he asked, looking more annoyed as the conversation progressed.
“You know what they say, Adam,” she sighed. “Hell hath no fury—”
“Believe me, I’m well aware of the old adage,” Adam rolled his eyes. “How long is this ‘fury’ of yours going to take before it wears off?”
“I’ll let you know when I find out,” she smirked, before walking back over to him, and placing her cell phone in his hand. He looked down at it for a moment, before looking back up at her.
“And what’s this for?”
“Well, while you’re sitting there, you might as well make yourself useful,” she said with a smirk, before turning back towards the job. “All you have to do is hit send and it goes right to speaker phone.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Well—” she bit her lip slightly, before glancing down towards his lap. “I may have to take drastic measures to make you see my point.”
He stared back at her for a minute, before licking his lips slightly. “I’m really starting to dislike you, Bela.”
“That’s the idea, Adam,” she replied with a smirk, before heading back to the job she had been working on before he had interrupted her. There was silence for a few moments, before the phone started to ring loudly. It continued for a moment, before Bela raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you going to get that?”
Adam rolled his eyes, before hitting the send button as she said. “You’ve reached the Crown Bitch—how may I direct your call?”
“How eloquent,” Bela chuckled.
“Is this Adam Monroe?” Dean’s gruff voice came over the speakers, and Bela and Adam both exchanged a look.
“Yes, this is,” Adam frowned. “How can I help you, Mr.—”
“Dean Winchester,” he said quickly. “And its not how you can help me, it’s how you can help Elle.”
“Elle?” Adam frowned. “Elle Bishop?”
“Yeah—we had a little run-in with an old friend of hers and she wound up in the hospital and she was askin’ for you. Now her father’s here—”
“Yeah, I guess that’s his name—I wasn’t really paying attention, but I got picture that he was bad news. Anyway—that’s not what I’m worried about right now. I’m worried about her.”
“I would love to help you, Dean, but I’m afraid my hands are rather tied at the moment. Quite literally, in fact.”
There was a long silence, and a heavy sigh from the other end of the phone. “Is she there?”
“I’m here, Dean.”
“Ya know, it’s cute that you’ve enlisted him to be your own answering service, Bela, but I’m sure he’s got better things to do than answer your phone.”
“What, like helping this Elle girl?”
“Bela, the girl almost had the top of her head sliced off, alright? Your hostage can help her. Think you could try to be a human being for once and help her out?”
Adam watched her carefully, watching the way her face contorted as she thought the situation over. She was torn, it seemed. She didn’t know if she could concede to what he and this Dean Winchester wanted, or put her foot down, which he had to admit was—intriguing. As much as he didn’t want it to be, considering his current situation.
“You still there Bela?” came from the phone, and she sighed heavily.
“Please note that what I’m about to do is not for either of you, but for her, understand?” she replied, slipping the artifact that she had been lifting into her bag, before securing what she was doing and making her way back over to Adam.
“I really don’t give a flying fuck who you’re doing this for, Bela,” Dean sighed. “So long as you actually do it.”
“What hospital are you in?” Bela asked, and Dean rambled off the name and address of the hospital. Bela paused for a minute, before nodding. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“I’d say thank you, but that would imply that I actually like you.”
She chuckled. “See you in a little bit, Dean.” She hung up the phone, and started to make her way around to where the knot was holding Adam in the chair.
“Well, well, well—” he mused. “The thief has a heart.”
“Too bad all it feels is indifference towards you,” she replied with a smirk as she released the ropes.
“That is a shame,” he nodded flexing his wrists slightly as a mischievous look flashed through his eyes. “A shame indeed.”
Call and Answer