Take me or Leave me (Patrick)

[bridget rachel summers]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 490px; height: 500px; background-color: #000000; background-image: url(http://www.imageafter.com/dbase/textures/light_fx/b14dieterkors016.jpg); border: 2px ridge #00A0E0; -webkit-border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px; border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px;] Its Too Darn Hot Its too darn hot. I'd like to fool with my baby tonight. Break every rule with my baby tonight. I'd like to fool with my baby tonight. Break every rule with my baby tonight. But pillow, you'll be my baby tonight 'cause its too darn hot. According to the Kinsey report, every average man you know much prefers to play his favorite sport when the temperature is low. But when the thermometer goes way up and the weather is sizzling hot, Mr Adam for his madam is not. 'Cause its too too too darn hot---------------------------------------------------------------- Bridget made her way down the long street lazily. She was not in a hurry to get down to Patrick's office. She was already going to be fashionably late as it was. She knew exactly what was going to happen here, and she had been through this same sort of a thing many times before. Patrick was a fool if he thought that he would get any further along in his investigation than anyone else had before him. Bridget sighed and looked up at the sky. It was a dark, dreary grey, and the air was humid. The clouds seemed heavy and threatened to rain on her. Bridget had been smart to tie her hair back so it didn't frizz up. Humidity had never been a friend to her hair. Though Bridget applauded herself for her smart decision to tie her hair back, she scolded herself for making the decision to wear white pants. If it began to rain right now, she would get soaked, and her white pants would become translucent. Not like that was a bad thing, she didn't mind being judged as being a slut, but it wouldn't attract anyone if you didn't leave an element of mystery to yourself. That was something that Bridget learned early on, and it was something that she always kept in the back of her mind. Today, Bridget wasn't really wearing anything overly revealing, but sometimes a fashionable outfit, like the one she had, was good enough. After all, Bridget wasn't exactly visiting Patrick to seduce him. She had a job to do, although she didn't want to do it. The last thing Bridget wanted to do was get Garrald caught, especially after the other night. Her feelings had resurfaced in his presence, and after the kiss that they shared in her dorm room... she wasn't sure she ever wanted to be apart from him again. Nevertheless, Bridget had definitely taken her sweet time getting here. She had been busy lately, trying to figure out what to do with her life now that Garrald had reappeared. She was constantly watching her back, wondering if her would reappear. The fact that he could be there at any moment caused butterflies to circle in her stomach, but it wasn't because he might at any moment pop out and kill her. No, that wasn't it at all. It was the fact that he could be anywhere, judging her. He made her want to be the real Bridget that she hid deep inside herself. The Bridget that had some respect for herself and had some class, but did know how to have fun once in a while. Bridget was more mature deep down than she was when with her friends. Sometimes she wished she could show it, but her need to have fun was too great, and one mature moment would ruin everything for her. Though, if Garrald was in the picture, then ruining everything seemed somewhat worth it. Bridget reached the run-down office of Detective Patrick Kensington and shook all thoughts of Garrald out of her head. She knew that was the thing Patrick would be trying to talk to her about, but she had no intention of giving out this information for free. Bridget had her own best intrests in mind and right now that was keeping Garrald out of jail. Though, if Patrick asked the same questions the FBI did, then Bridget wouldn't even have to worry about whether or not Garrald was caught. Questions like those would get you nowhere. Bridget ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath before turning the handle. She had her game face on, and was mentally prepared for anything Patrick might throw at her. She would answer his questions, sure. The last thing she wanted was to get herself arrested because she was withholding information, but she was stubborn, and would not make it easy to get the answer out of her. Bridget stepped inside and half smiled. Show time. "Am I late?" She asked, her smile widening with amusement. She knew she was later than Patrick wanted by a long shot. The fact that she was taunting him like this was probably a bad thing, but then again, he wasn't really a police officer anymore, right? Oh, well. It didn't matter. Patrick needed her and her information, and if he got too upset at her she wouldn't give him what he wanted. She had the upper hand here, just the way she liked it. [style=width: 200px; height: 50px; text-transform: uppercase; background-color: #e0e0e0; color: #000000; line-height: 80%; font-size: 10px; font-family: tahoma; text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px #FFF; opacity: 0.7; overflow: auto; margin: 380px 0 0 5px; text-align: justify; border: 1px dashed #00A0E0; -webkit-border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; border-radius: 30px; padding: 3px;] WORD: 747 Outfit: CLICK Muse:The next one will be better :P Note: Also I'm replying to Garrald tomorrow :D NOTE: Bridget's Speech Other Characters' Speech [/style] Lyrics: Too Darn Hot from Kiss Me Kate; Template by Paige @ CAUTION

[patrick ray kensington]

For the past number of weeks, Patrick had been undergoing his own investigation into Zenith which required having to stare at crime scene photos while trying to recreate the scene in his head going through each step of how Zenith operated in killing his victims. The FBI and LAPD had been stonewalling him every chance they got due to him no longer being a police officer but also due to his reputation as a result of his termination from the LAPD. While the entire thing was a mess and not true at all, the press wasn't discrete when it came to dragging police officers over hot coals based on rumors and blatant lies. Regardless, the young man had managed to keep a few friends in the department that obliged him with copies of photos and investigative documents believing that Patrick was the only man in Los Angeles able to catch the brutal murderer. He didn't like tooting his own horn nor acknowledging such claims as that but there had been a time when he was called the most successful criminal profiler in the state of California after having led many investigations into similar killers. The only one he wasn't able to catch was the California Cannibal or "The Wolf" as some had begun to refer to him; oddly enough, after his termination, the cannibal stopped killing and has been silent for over a year.

While he sat in his cramped, run down office he was forced into operating out of, he rubbed his temples to alleviate the headache that he'd been fighting for days. Due to his nature, he avoided sleep as when he slept he not only used valuable investigative time to catch a killer but also tended to have nightmares rooted in his methods of placing himself in the killer's position. He hated dreaming of himself as the Cannibal and didn't fancy being Zenith any more but was looking forward to his visitor giving him something to go on which would help him save lives. Once of his closest friends had gone off on a personal game with Zenith, which Patrick knew would only make bodies pile up by the day rather than by the week just in spite of those following him. His only key was Bridget Summers, a college student who had survived a Zenith killing spree coming out as the only survivor of her entire sorority.

The fact she was the sole survivor of a killer who never made mistakes or left loose ends was troubling in that Patrick believed there was a connection between them that she hadn't told anyone about. In fact, it was practically obvious that Zenith either had no intention of killing her or was just playing an elaborate string of mind games with the young woman which had made her one of the most stubborn witnesses he'd spoken to.

Patrick looked up from his desk as the door opened and a female voice soon followed. He didn't feel the need to answer such an arrogant question as what had been posed due to her having to know she was late. The FBI was looking for her as an accessory to Zenith and, the way the former Marine saw it, they didn't have time for games. He motioned toward the seat in front of her but never took his eyes off her. Despite her standoffish nature, she was very attractive and, for a split second, it pained Patrick to even imagine Zenith cutting a spectacle like her open as he did his victims. Snapping out of the trance, he leaned back in his chair and posed his question to her, "Why didn't he kill you when he butchered all of your friends one by one? Don't lie to me, because I'm fairly certain I know the answer."

[bridget rachel summers]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 490px; height: 500px; background-color: #000000; background-image: url(http://www.imageafter.com/dbase/textures/light_fx/b14dieterkors016.jpg); border: 2px ridge #00A0E0; -webkit-border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px; border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px;] Its Too Darn Hot Its too darn hot. I'd like to fool with my baby tonight. Break every rule with my baby tonight. I'd like to fool with my baby tonight. Break every rule with my baby tonight. But pillow, you'll be my baby tonight 'cause its too darn hot. According to the Kinsey report, every average man you know much prefers to play his favorite sport when the temperature is low. But when the thermometer goes way up and the weather is sizzling hot, Mr Adam for his madam is not. 'Cause its too too too darn hot---------------------------------------------------------------- Bridget raised an eyebrow as Patrick simply motioned for her to sit without responding to her question. No friendly banter? This was going to be more boring than she had thought. She knew that apparently, time was short and if she didn't cooperate she would be arrested by the FBI for some crime or another, but Bridget didn't much care. It was always a good thing to lighten the mood in any scenario, no matter how little time you had. Bridget scanned the run-down little office that she sat in curiously. She had been warned that Patrick knew more about she and Garrald's situation than most, but Bridget still wasn't sure how much. She observed crime scene photos strewn about carelessly and papers all over the place. When her eyes fell on Patrick, she couldn't help but smirk slightly. He looked as if he had never slept a day in his life. She realized that this could be a good thing for her: if Patrick was overtired then it was likely that he'd miss things and it would be easier to get through this interview honestly while revealing as little as possible. However, there was also the likely chance that he would simply be much more irritable than usual and she would just be threatened more. No matter, either answer was acceptable for her, she would make do with any situation that arose. She was used to thinking on her feet. She liked to consider herself a master of deception, a skill she had refined when she and Garrald were in a relationship, all those years ago. "Why didn't he kill you when he butchered all of your friends one by one? Don't lie to me, because I'm fairly certain I know the answer." Patrick said, and Bridget raised her eyebrows and snorted in disbelief. "So we're just going to get straight to the point then?" She asked rhetorically. She knew by the tone in Patrick's voice that they were starting right away and that there was nothing she could do about it. She sighed. After making Patrick wait as long as she had for her to show up, she figured that she would answer them in a somewhat timely manner. Patrick shouldn't have to wait for everything, that made the game much less fun. "So I have to relive all of the painful memories," She said to herself, though loud enough for Patrick to hear. She leaned back and settled into the chair, folding her arms across her chest. She found a blank spot on the wall behind Patrick's head and projected her memories onto it. Why didn't he kill her so long ago? That was something she hadn't thought about in a long time. The memories had been blocked out of Bridget's mind for so long now that she couldn't remember all of the details, only the major moments. She remembered the hazing accident, and the freakout that followed. She remembered standing up and using her skills of deception to make a master plan that would save their skins. She remembered all of the girls calming down, and putting the wheels in motion. She remembered the police inquiries and the investigation that followed. She remembered the look on that innocent man's face when he was found guilty. Bridget remembered coming home not long after to find everyone dead. Her best friends, her enemies, and those in between. Everyone who had ever been a sister was gone. She remembered thinking: This is all my fault. This is all my fault. She remembered when it was her turn to be confronted by the murderer. She remembered her surprise and horror when it was Garrald. But after that... nothing. She didn't remember if she had been let free or if she had freed herself. Honestly, she could imagine the situation going either way. Everything was blank until she escaped. She could only remember running, and making up her mind afterwards that she wouldn't tell a soul what had happened. But she didn't know why. She couldn't remember why. Bridget stared at the wall for a few more seconds and blinked. Then she turned her gaze back to Patrick. "I... I don't remember," She said. It was the truth. Of course, Patrick was probably looking for a generic answer, or for her to admit that she and Garrald were in love. But if Bridget were to answer the question specifically, she had no clue. So many years of trying to forget had forced her to forget the one moment that meant everything. In a way, Bridget wanted to remember, but at the same time, she didn't. She knew that one moment was a key factor in determining who Garrald really was. If he had been trying to kill her the entire time and she had merely escaped, would she be able to forgive him? If he had let her go free, would she hate herself for fleeing to LA to hide from a man who loved her? Bridget wanted to know the truth, but she wouldn't. She couldn't. Because as important as it was to everything she thought and felt, there was also the chance that it would ruin it all. Sometimes, a lie was better, because the truth could destroy everything. [style=width: 200px; height: 50px; text-transform: uppercase; background-color: #e0e0e0; color: #000000; line-height: 80%; font-size: 10px; font-family: tahoma; text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px #FFF; opacity: 0.7; overflow: auto; margin: 380px 0 0 5px; text-align: justify; border: 1px dashed #00A0E0; -webkit-border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; border-radius: 30px; padding: 3px;] WORD: 870 Outfit: CLICK Muse:I didn't know if you had imagined this whole thing a specific way Note: so I decided that I would leave it kinda open ended. I'll rewrite this if you want Bridget to give Patrick a specific answer though. I'm okay with that. :D NOTE: Bridget's Speech Other Characters' Speech [/style] Lyrics: Too Darn Hot from Kiss Me Kate; Template by Paige @ CAUTION