The Bolt from the Blue (Working Title)

Chapter 27- John and Veronica

"I don't need your forgiveness." Veronica held John's gaze steadily, but he thought he saw a flicker of hope somewhere in the back of her stare.

"Do you want it?" He asked.

"What I did when I...killed your friend, that can't be undone."

"I know." John felt curiously numb inside- he thought he'd feel more torn about this conversation, the way he had when they needed to find Lucy, but there was nothing. "But this way, there'll be one less person in the world who hates you."

Veronica smirked slightly, "I'd rather hear that from your friend with the torture powers."

"I'm sorry she did that to you."

"Really? It seemed like you thought I deserved the same thing." Veronica crossed her arms.

"I stopped her."

"After a long, long time and a lot of pain." She didn't seem angry, exactly- and then John realised, she was being self-righteous. Veronica was being self-righteous to him.

"I stopped her as soon as I could and I helped you find your sister." He was getting annoyed.

"She was on the roof: it wasn't that difficult."

"You didn't think to look there, genius." He knew this would hurt her and he got a small measure of pleasure from the wounded look on her face. "You needed Sam and me to-"

"And what did Sam do?" There was a glint in Veronica's eye: if she didn't know already, she was close to figuring it out.

"None of your damn business."

"I seem to remember you telling me that if I wanted you to help, I had to explain everything." She leant against the doorpost. She was enjoying this.

"Yes, well, I've never murdered anyone in front of you." John didn't want to bring this up- even saying it caused a pain in his chest and a horrible image to flash before his eyes, but he was getting frustrated. "This is not an even playing field."

She looked him up and down, "You must be pretty desperate to come to me."

"You're the only one I know who can build blockers."

"Why not just buy one legally?" She sneered gleefully, "Isn't that what a policeman should do?"

"I can't afford it." John said, keeping his voice level.

"Oh, so your privilige runs out and suddenly you're not so gung-ho about the law? The system stops serving you personally and now it's ok to do whatever you want? When I rob a store and it goes wrong, I'm 'evil' and 'depraved' and 'deserve to be punished' but when you coerce me into committing a crime for you, it's ok because you're out of options? You make me sick." She straightened up and extended her hand, "Welcome to the Criminal Club." She leant back against the wall and motioned for him to enter.

John stood in confusion for a second and then walked in. She shut the door behind him.

"You'll build it for me?" He asked, passing once more into her living room, this time an invited guest.

"I know something about having nowhere else to turn." She sat down on the sofa, picked up a pad of paper and tore off the top piece. "What are the specs?" She asked, trying to goad a pencil on the coffee table into flying to her. It jumped up and down excitedly a few times, standing up on its end only to collapse back onto the table.

"Specs?" John repeated, entranced by the pencil's antics. It wiggled and rolled but refused to leave the glass tabletop.

"Specifications: what's the power, what range do you need, who's the intended- Oh, for Christ's Sake!" The pencil had just done a pirhouette and then fallen on the table, on the other side to Veronica.