[OOM] November 2007, Pre-How To Stop An Exploding Man

"– making the hard choices, for the greater good. So do I –"

She's only half-listening to the replayed snippets of the congressman-elect of New York's fourteenth district giving his victory speech. Her feet are propped up on the coffee table, and though the television's volume is high, her attention is more focused on the way its glow reflects off her fingernails. She hears the door open, and the footsteps, but is too distracted to look up.

"Elle."

"Huh?" it's dim, and she doesn't look up to her father.

"– but can look into the darkness –"

"Linderman's dead."

This finally gets her attention. She sits up on the sofa, her expression – eyebrows raised, mouth twisted upwards – could hardly be called mournful. Bob opens a folder across the coffee table. "And that means we'll have work to do."

Now, her face lights up – and she doesn't say anything, but reaches to the folder, gently pulling out a photograph clipped to the side. "What kind of work?" Her voice is childlike, her eyes stay on the photo.

"It's a pick-up, Elle." She twists the photo between her fingers, as though examining it from different angles.

"– the world is sick –"

"Before or after New York, you know – "she flits the photo against her face and looks up sideways at her father – "Boom."

"You don't go into the city until I've given you the all clear." She's gone back to staring at the photo.

"Did you hear me?"

Elle sighs dramatically, and stands, walking to the door. "Got it, Daddy."

"– let's show them all what we're capable of –"

She flicks the photo of Peter Petrelli back on the table.