They started moving when Aurum rattled off his address and Riley sighed, it was out of her way but that was fine. Once she’d dumped all these clowns off she could return to her happy night of happiness. Then Aurum uttered the words that made the cab stop. Again.

He turned, and asked her a question…complete with brown puppy lawyer eyes.

”Seriously?”[/i] she said, with more than a little incredulity in her voice. Sure she didn’t want to stab him in the face when she looked at him anymore…but bringing him and strangers back to her place was just too much. She never brought anyone back to her place. It was her place…nobody else’s…and besides that. God. Why was he being so pathetic? He said please…and meant it.

Riley sighed, hand moving to her forehead for a moment while she cursed herself for still having a conscience. She gave the cabbie her address, then turned to Aurum. ”Just…don’t even say anything.” she snapped, then turned to look out the window. This was all his fault, and Riley planned to keep her mouth shut until she could lose the dead weight.

Until the cop started talking.

Did…she…feel that? A sinking feeling settled into the pit of Riley’s stomach and she prayed they were talking about the leather interior of the cab.

“The one car that stops out of all the others and we had to get one with an adapted inside."

Riley stiffened, flinching slightly at the word and barely stifled a small squeak. So far, the only people she’d met who knew that word…had been dangerous. Lori had been nice enough…but there was no doubt in Riley’s mind that she was dangerous.

She looked at Aurum again…this look boldly conveying the message, What have you gotten me into?. Screw him if he hadn’t known…this was still a car she really wanted out of. They were talking about a locker key now. Hope blossomed slowly, maybe they’d just forget. Fat chance…but a girl had to take what she could get.

>>”Seriously?”

Aurum's face was serious. Sighing like it pained her, Riley dished out her address to the cab driver. She told him to keep quiet. He broke that promise.

"Fine."

She was upset. This was upsetting. He was a little antsy, too.

This whole thing was annoying. Worrisome. He couldn't remember. He still hadn't pinned down why he'd felt thankful seeing her in the cab. Then again, what the hell. Everything was a bit hazy. Hadn't he...? Aurum looked away from her, tuning his eyes nowhere in particular and somewhere up and to the right as he attempted to recall. No, he couldn't come up with anything.

In the background, the cop and scarface chattered. It reminded him of one of his little sister's cartoons, from when she'd been younger, and the television had been under her reign. He tuned it out, the same way. 'Adapted' didn't mean anything to him. Neither did a orange key, which he failed to notice.

His eyes swung back to Riley, settled there. His brow furrowed.

"Did... something happen? Between us. I can't remember. We all lost our memories." Suddenly, he noticed the look she'd been making. Something was up with her, too. "What? What did I miss?"

>> "The one car that stops out of all the others and we had to get one with an adapted inside."[/i]

Jorge arched a brow but never said anything about what was said. In truth he had no idea what the term “adapted” meant, but apparently she was referring to that feeling of being disconnected to his powers. Was that really the term for it? He was not sure. Gemma had never told him anything like that! Hell, most of time she really had no explanation for it either. She knew she was not a mutant, but for some reason she could turn off the abilities of any mutant nearby. The detective had always figured that maybe she was just another super-powered individual with no idea what she was capable of.

Now this happens. He is in a cab, with another person who is able to turn off powers, and the scarred woman identifies the person as an “adapted”? Too many coincidences for his liking, so he would have to investigate this further.

A glance to the woman and then to the arguing couple next to him and again he just had to wonder what this motley crew all knew? None of them had anything in common that he knew about, except for the fact that they all woke up in the back of a moving van with no recollection on how they got there! Other than that, neither of them seemed as if they ran in the same circles. Then again, he was a police officer and the other man was a lawyer. It was possible that they met for some legal reason, then what was with the scar-faced woman? She did admit she was the one who took their memories…then again…why?

All the options began to weigh too heavily on his head as he tried to ignore the woman who was irritated with getting wrangled into helping them. He was thankful to her for allowing them go to her place, though. There was every possibility that their own places were being watched by whoever had kidnapped them, so that option was definitely not safe. But they did need somewhere to hold up until they could figure what was going on.

>> ”Seriously? Just…don’t even say anything.”

He glanced to the female in the cab and gave her a brief, but appreciative nod. “Thank you for your assistance. It is greatly appreciated.” he said with utmost honesty before he turned to looked back at the key in his hands.

>> "You got a guy who can trace that?"

Jorge nodded knowingly, a small smile on his face he flipped the key over and found a faint, engraved serial number etched onto its shiny surface. The numbers were like a fingerprint, knowing that they came from a locker in the New York area would be difficult, but it was not impossible to trace. He glanced once more to the woman and then to the rest of the people in the cab.

“If anyone can get me to a phone, I got someone at the precinct who can find where this comes from,” he nodded. “And they’ll be discrete. Which we need in abundance right now.”

Noel nodded to the cop, the only one with enough sense in his head to keep focused on the task at hand. A chunk of their mutual lives was stolen leaving a ragged hole. It was her fault and that meant it was her responsibility to make it right. The key was their one concrete clue to a time before missing memories.

The agent turned around and sat properly in her chair for the rest of the ride to this stranger's home. She would like to go. Noel knew she always had a way to find her home. So long as they hadn't taken her skin, she could do it. But running would only make her look more guilty. She didn't need more guilty. She needed less guilty.

And less guilty meant she had to go to this stranger's home and be a good sport. So that's what she did.

Had…something happened between them?

Riley stared the far-too-small distance into Aurum’s face like he’d just sprouted a second head as he explained that they’d lost their memories.

Lost…their memories.

”You have got to be kidding me.” she blurted, astonished by the whole thing…and by the question. Had something happened between them? Riley was nearly incredulously incredulous at the suggestion. No. NO nothing had happened. Than again…maybe that wasn’t what Aurum had meant at all…maybe he’d meant it in the general sense of the word, in which case…

Good God was she annoyed. Riley’s first impulse was to punch Aurum in the gut and stop the cab, get out, and take her chances walking down the middle of the street at night in New York City. Truthfully, it was probably safer than the inside of the cab…and a hundred times more sane. Instead, she took a deep breath and tried to figure out what was going on.

”What do you mean you lost your memory?” she asked, ”And no…nothing happened between us. Unless you mean us working together recently…” Of course that’s what he meant, Riley told herself. Why she hadn’t expanded on that…she didn’t know, but there was something in her gut that was telling her to be careful with her words.

The cop and the chick in the front seat were talking about lockers more, and phones, and people at the precinct. Riley sighed impatiently and rolled her eyes to the ceiling of the cab as they made their way to her apartment.

”I have a phone.” she said tightly, then crossed her arms around her middle, and if she nudged Aurum in the process, that was his problem. It felt like the right thing to do, if they didn’t know she was and adapted, they’d find out as soon as they got to her place. As foreign as the feeling was to Riley, and as hard as it was to admit it, that fact scared her a little.

”These are the good guys, right?” she said, almost to herself.

Oh. Well that would explain why he hadn't wanted to head for the hills when he'd first seen her. They'd been working together. That also explained why she hadn't just left him and the others on the side of the highway and driven off. But, what had they been working on? That was the big question. He couldn't recall.

The conversation shifted for a bit. He was jostled. He squeezed himself closer to the cop, to give her more room, then looked her way, ignoring all the mixed signals and cop-squishing going on in the cab.

Aurum asked quietly, importantly. "What were we working on?"

>> ”I have a phone.”

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” he said honestly as he craned his neck around to see her. “But, may I borrow it? Please?’

Jorge waited for the woman’s judgment when suddenly he felt the lawyer began to press up closer to him. For a second he just arched his brow and stared at men… then he realized he was trying to give the woman more room. How very chivalrous of him. He could not blame the man though. It was obvious he knew her but all three of them had pretty much taken it upon themselves to impose on her night. She was being thrown into a situation that she really seemed to have no part of. He would be irritated too if three, raggedy looking people suddenly showed up at his car door needing help.

He sighed though and tried to push himself as close to the door as possible in order to help the lawyer offer the woman as much free space as possible. Also because any closer and the man would pretty much be sitting on his lap. Thank god he did not have to wear that Santa costume again.

Feeling the door handle press into his ribcage, Jorge knew that was as far as he was going to be able to go. If the man wanted to offer her more room, then he could oblige by strapping himself onto the roof of the taxi.

The woman seemed to finally concede to his question and hand over her cell phone. Jorge gratefully smiled and nodded his head as he took it, taking special care to not hear any of her grumbles or choice words at being further inconvenienced. Another nod and thanks, and Jorge took the phone in hand. As he stared at those illuminated numbers, Jorge dialed for the 18th precinct and prayed that the person he was shooting for as actually there. As he waited on the ringing, the detective mulled and turned the orange key over between his fingers. It had to be important to solving this mystery. For some reason it just felt like it was. Then again all they might find when they got there was the scarred woman’s lunch pail or something. Still…it was the only lead they had so far and they had to take a chance.

Finally the other line clicked and a tired voice answered.

“Hello? Taylor? Yeah, I need your help on something.” Jorge said as he turned his best to keep from talking in the lawyer’s ear. “I need you to track a locker key’s serial number. I need to know where it came from.” He said as he turned his back which was now starting to develop a cramp. “No, this is not some kind of scavenger hunt…Taylor, I don’t care if you’re getting ready to go home and make…well if you paid more attention to your wife instead of playing that War of Worldcraft garbage, it wouldn’t be just once a month!” he sighed as he took a breath and tried to speak more calmly. “Sorry. Listen, can you please just do this as a favor to me? Huh? Alright I’ll buy you a free month game subscription, whatever that is.” he rolled his eyes and made a mental note to do such. “Okay…here’s the number…”

Jorge recited the serial number, digit for digit to the man over the phone and waited patiently for some kind of result. He really had no idea what could possibly be the outcome. But as he sat there, phone cradled against his ear, he sighed a bit. Sitting for so long was starting to make him sleepy all over again. All he really wanted to do know was crash on his couch…any couch for that matter! So long as it was soft…warm…comfort-

“What? Uh-huh…” Jorge said as he began to mentally recite and address to himself so he would not forgot. Finally he just grinned and sighed in relief. “Perfect, thank you Taylor. I owe you- huh?” he paused as he rolled his eyes and nodded his head. “All right, all right, first thing tomorrow morning I’ll bring you your gameplay card. Bye. Thank you again!” He ended the call and gratefully handed the phone back to the irritated woman. “Well, it looks like we have a destination,” he said as he held the key up to look it over. “Wheeler’s Bus Depot.”

Oh. How embarrassing. Noel was embarrassed for the water cop. She'd gotten an all too clear image of this Taylor guy's life and it wasn't one she was jealous of. And finally they had a destination. A destination other than infringing on a grumpy lady's private apartment.

> “Wheeler’s Bus Depot.”

That triggered a little twinge in her brain. That cabby seemed hesitant. "Wheeler's Bus Depot, please. That's Brooklyn." And not too terribly far from her house. What, if anything, had she been trying to tell herself with the location of this? Noel already knew what they would find in there, but until she saw it, she couldn't say that any of it would be anything important to their mystery.

Her fingers went to her lips. She mashed them against her teeth in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. Usually she was justified in the things she did. She didn't like doubting herself like this.

Aurum spoke again and Riley had to work hard not to slap herself in the forehead. Yes, the lawyer had pointed out the fact that he’d lost some memories. He didn’t remember anything though, none of what they’d accomplished together? Riley frowned and looked out the window. Why did it matter?

Riley ignored the cop talking on her phone, she had unlimited night and weekends, and turned back to Aurum…who was suddenly further away. Why was she noticing? Riley shook it off and sighed, looking at the other two in the cab. ”I’ll just fill you in later.” she said flippantly, not sure why it was so important to keep it on the DL while they were in this cab. The cop was talking again…and Riley didn’t care again…until the brunette up front spoke.

”Um. No. In fact, hell no.” she spoke up. ”If you want to go poking around in a bus depot. That’s your damn prerogative. I’m going home.”

Riley leaned across Aurum now so she could look at the cabbie in the rear-view mirror, ”You think the three hobo-looking hitchikers are going to pay your fare…go ahead and take them instead of me. Remember, you picked me up from the job, and my employer is paying you to take me home.”

Needless to say. The cabbie took her seriously.

As they continued to move in the right direction, Riley scowled in Aurum's general direction some more. What the hell had he gotten her into?

'Later' was not 'now'. Aurum didn't like the idea of waiting on finding out how he'd been living his life before he had lost bits and pieces of it. Finding out what he'd been up to was important. More important, perhaps, than figuring out where he, and the rest of the cab, were headed.

Aurum sighed at her answer. He bowed his head and shook it with an exasperated laugh. "Later... right." Was it later yet? Later couldn't come too soon.

Someone thought it was time to change their destination. Riley disagreed with that decision, vehemently. Very vehemently. She was going home. And... as she leaned across him, he pressed himself up against the back of his seat to give her more room... she was paying the cabbie, so what she said mattered more.

Riley retreated to her side of the cab, and Aurum took another deep breath. Why was this whole thing so stressful? And why was he suddenly thankful she hadn't let them do the detour?

"Thanks..." The words came out awkward. He looked away from Riley, turning to the cop. "Maybe you two can do that investigation on your own time... I can give you my number... or someone's number." He chanced a glance Riley's way. "And you can fill us in on what you find... right now, I'm not sure I'm up for whatever bus station romp you two were planning... I just want to figure out what the hell happened to my life before she wiped it."

Aurum sat back in his seat, and got comfortable again. It was more difficult than should have been physically possible. Weakly, he turned back to Riley. He spoke just loud enough for her, and maybe the cop, to hear. "You're telling me what we were working on together when we get to your place, okay?" He sighed to himself. "I'd like to know what got me handcuffed to two other people in the back of a moving truck..."

>> "Wheeler's Bus Depot, please. That's Brooklyn."[/i]

Jorge absentmindedly nodded as he looked at the locker key closely again. What were they going to find there? Since when did he visit Brooklyn, much less have a locker there? Then again, there was no saying that the locker was connected to him at all. It was on the brunette’s person, after all, so somehow she was connected to that place. And the expression on her face proved that as well. So maybe they would all finally get some answers to what has been going on…

>> ”Um. No. In fact, hell no…If you want to go poking around in a bus depot, that’s your damn prerogative…[/i]

Apparently they were now in disagreement here. It felt as if they were all beginning to take too much advantage of the woman’s “kindness” in stopping to pick them up…and she was adamant to let them know that. Not that Jorge could blame her, he was sure they were grading on her nerves after all, but jeez, some tact when talking to peace keepers would have been appreciated. At least in his opinion. They were attempting to solve a mystery here and the woman had no qualms about letting them know how much of an inconvenience they were being to her.

Normally Jorge liked people who were to the point, but this was just a little ridiculous. That, or he simply was not in the mood to have to deal with such a person after the long night they all had.

>> “I’m going home…You think the three hobo-looking hitchikers are going to pay your fare…go ahead and take them instead of me. Remember, you picked me up from the job, and my employer is paying you to take me home.”

The detective definitely wanted to pipe in now. Yes, she was “nice” enough to stop and help them, but she really needed to lay off now. Thankfully the lawyer next to him interrupted…

>> "Maybe you two can do that investigation on your own time... I can give you my number... or someone's number…And you can fill us in on what you find...[/i]

It was definitely a good idea. Though he still did not fully trust the woman who had wiped all their memories…he would rather have to deal with her than bear another minute with that starlet. He was going to arrest her if she called him ‘hobo-looking’ just once more…

“You know what,” he said as he then nodded to the lawyer. “That’s probably a good idea. You stay with her, just don’t go home until you hear from us. Whoever was behind this might be waiting there. Just leave me your number, if you can find a pen and paper…”

Another sigh and he glanced to the woman the woman upfront, the one who had stolen all their memories from their past time together. He definitely was going to have to put a lot of trust into what was going to come next. Though he was still wary, she did seem to be just as confused as any of them; that had to count for something. Anyways, even if all this did turn out to be a trap by her, then at least the lawyer and the starlet would be able to get away for the time being. At least he hoped so.

So far the night was turning more and more interesting…

"Fine." Noel let herself put as much venom as she wanted into that one word and folded her arms across her ribs to give them something more constructive to do than pick at the already ratty seat cover. And as petulant as she was being, she stayed that way until the cabby slowed the vehicle to a stop.

Noel got out when Prissy McPansy-face and the Kittycat Lawyer did. After they were gone and paid for, she slipped into the back with the cop.

"Shoot me, stab me but dear God don't ever let me chain myself to one of those two ever again." Obviously she felt a lot better with one of her own kind, someone with training and a prerogative that she could understand. Civvies weren't cut out for the rough stuff. They got all dead, or worse, emotional about stuff.

Noel nudged the back of the cab driver's seat. Rude, but she wasn't in the mood to wait. "Wheeler's and let's hope there's cash enough in my wallet once we get there."

The shadows out the cab window were long and the night was cold. Despite her mostly dry clothes, she still had goose bumps. "You can arrest me if that would make you feel better." She spoke toward the window and the dark night, but the words were all for the cop.