2008-01-28: Blind Date


Logan_icon.gif Niki_icon.gif

Summary: A blind date in the form of a business arrangement, and no, it's not what you're thinking.

Date It Happened: January 28th, 2008

Blind Date

Pinehearst Research

Fort Lee, NJ

It's a bright day for winter, and Logan tugs open the horizontal blinds at his Pinehearst office, surveying the generous view of New Jersey it affords him. The room is not well used in the least - it's a token gesture at best, but makes for a convenient place to talk privately to those under the company's employ, or meet with those it's been arranged he meet. He didn't particularly want further security, but he accepted, and now it doesn't seem like such a bad idea. The security afforded him as Senator aren't independent enough, and well, Jack… though loyal, is far from perfect.

And considering the aches and twinges from the past few days, he could use a little firepower. Such injuries are mostly concealed by his clothing, although a couple of scratches on his face tell a story, and the stitches on his knuckles haven't been removed just yet. Logan's arms are folded, door partially open behind him as he waits, boredly, to introduce him to whatever security Pinehearst has thrown his way. He's dressed in a suit and tie, immaculate aside from the evidence of injury.

Striding down the hall populated by offices is Niki Sanders. Swish-swishing against the fabric of a grey skirt somewhere between proper knee length and a mini, the laminated ID tag clipped to the bottom of her blouse, which is a satiny lavender affair, notes no particular designation within Pinehearst, no title, just her name: N. SANDERS. Today, she's been given an assignment.

Niki moves through the building with purpose, carried by sleek black high heels. Her purposeful stride slows when she starts to near a particular office, and she becomes less sure of her destination, glancing back the way she came before stepping hesitantly toward the slightly open door. This is the right one. She urges the door open a few inches.


That name. There's no choice, really, when it comes to that name, but still… that name. He didn't mind it before, but ever since things started to weaken at the seams… Logan suppresses an impatient sigh as if to try and ignore the weight on his shoulders, turning only enough to peer over his shoulder— then pausing and moving to face her properly, a hand up to check that his tie is straight. "Niki?" His gaze darts over her shoulder to see if she's accompanying anyone, but no. Arms unfolded, hands bury into the pockets of his slacks in something more casual. "What can I do for you?"

Niki slips past the door, standing in the doorway just staring at Nathan for a moment before she gently closes it behind her. Once it clicks in place, she glances back once at it, unsurely, then starts to smile as if amused by a devilish joke that no one else can hear. "I, uhm…" A laugh, under her breath, mildly incredulous. More confident, she steps rightfully into the office. "I think I'm your security."

His eyebrows go up, first thought being: why didn't I think of that? "Really," Logan says, not quite incredulous even if the corner of his mouth turns up in a half-smile, gaze quickly glancing her over. No, she doesn't look like typical security, but then, she doesn't really have to. "You'd think they made these kinds of decisions deliberately." He tilts his head a little towards his desk, where a couple of chairs are placed opposite his more luxurious office chair.

"They just sent me, they didn't give me many details," Niki explains, drifting close to one corner of Logan's desk, where she lingers a moment before slipping down into one of the chairs, smoothing down her skirt underneath her. No, she certainly doesn't look like typical security — which has its advantages. "I'm guessing we're gonna need some kind of cover, 'cause…" The blonde glances down at herself and gives a knowing laugh. "I look more like a secretary."

Pulling out the opposite chair, Logan takes a seat, adjusting his jacket in near the same timing of Niki fixing her skirt. "I think that can be arranged," he agrees, all seriousness although there is some amusement evident in the situation presented to him. It's not quite what he expected and certainly doesn't fit into any plan he had for how this meeting would go - someone unfamiliar but experienced, as opposed to someone familiar and unexperienced. He can make it work. "You can be my schedule coordinator." Or, you know, secretary. "Look, obviously… the kind of things I— apparently— need protecting from aren't entirely conventional, although considering the circumstances under our first meeting, I guess that shouldn't surprise you."

Niki crosses her legs, leaning them off slightly to one side as she makes herself comfortable. And she does look comfortable, more or less — not one-hundred percent relaxed, but familiar in presence of Logan. 'Schedule coordinator' gets a twitch of a smirk. As the Senator talks about things unconventional, she looks at him curiously — and sure, a hint of concern, but she takes it in stride. "I threw a man twice my size about ten feet a few nights ago. Apparently, my protection isn't … conventional, either. We were put together for a reason."

And Peter had picked him up like a ragdoll and bounced him off a wall too. It would be strangely satisfying should the younger Petrelli ever get a taste of his own medicine under Logan's watch. Especially against someone Logan knows he'll hesitate to strike. His smile deepens a little more and nods as if to say: you're hired. "Seems like you're exactly what I need," he says. Pauses. Considers.

"Would you like a gun?"

"…a-a gun." The notion strikes her completely by surprise. But it shouldn't, right? Security people carry guns. Niki thinks all of this through in the moments after her initial surprise. Niki hasn't exactly reached a point in this new life of hers where she's decided what kind of person she is, but her view of Pinehearst, of Nathan, is good. That's what she wants to be; good. The woman lifts both dark blonde brows at Logan and sincerely asks, "Do you think I need one?" It's one of those earnest questions where the outcome is so earnestly dependent on the answerer. Say yes and she'll get an arsenal.

Those are the best questions, in Logan's book. "It can't hurt," Logan says, voice laced with irony, but like most instances of humour from either he or Nathan, it's fleeting and said so dryly it may as well be serious. He moves on with, "It's reasonably standard. I can sort out the paperwork along with the weapon. All you need to do is practice." He opens a drawer and pulls out a couple of sheets of paper bound in a clear plastic file, and slides this over. "Some personal details you'll need to know - contact information, my offices in New York and Washington, although it'll be more convenient if you stay in the city. You won't be needed every day, just have your pager on you."

Niki's acceptance of these terms is simple — she just reaches for the file, drawing it from the desk and into her lap. "I can do that." Her smile purses as she glances down post acceptance of important details and would-be firearms. There's a subject change on the horizon! "Hey, uhm— this isn't business, but I've— I've actually been meaning to ask you…"

And so it was, Logan had hired himself an attractive blonde woman with superhuman strength. There are certainly worse arrangements in the world. The initial important stuff out of the way, Logan doesn't seem to mind whatever the subject change is. "What have you been meaning to ask me," he allows, curiousity evident.

Niki keeps her eyes cast down, now, where she can watch her fingers fold over the clear plastic of the papers she's been given. "I've been… learning more. About my past," she explains. "Did you know?" she draws the question out of herself, blue eyes peeking up to find Logan suddenly. "About the things I've done." Not good things, by her thicker, wavering tone. "The other person I was."

It's a difficult question - Niki was an enigma, at best, to Nathan, although he knew some fundamental truths. She was a nice woman who once upon a time ran with bad people. She has a son and a sense of humour. She once participated in blackmailing him - although such a thing is hazy, as is the time she was sent to kill him. Then of course, there's how much this Niki knows now, how much is truth. From the waver of her voice, it could be said: plenty. "Yes," he says, after a momentary pause, eyes hooded a little as if studying the desk rather than her. "You can see why I'm encouraging you to turn over a new leaf."

Heartened in some way by that answer — even seeming comforted by it - Niki says, "Then … thank you. You knew, and you still— " She looks away, and down, off to the side, but smiles. "Is there anything else I should know?" Back to business, suddenly — her voice is that of an eager employee wanting to do a good job and she sits up straighter, ready. "Do you get a lot of … threats?"

The conversation veers, and Logan readily goes with it, chair turning a little as he holds his hand up in a kind of shrug. "I certainly get enough of them that I can't seem to stay away from Mt. Sinai on a regular basis," he says. "The last issue— well the papers will probably have something about a hit and run, or a mugging. Either way, I'm claiming not to remember a thing. But it was someone like us, with special abilities, who attacked me personally to get information. There are a lot of enemies out there from all directions. The only thing I can suggest to you is to keep your eyes open and never hesitate."

"First we have people attacking us because we have these abilities and now you're saying people that're like us attack us, too?" All directions is right. That's a pretty crappy scenario all around … and so Niki is all the more motivated. "I'll do my best— " she says, standing up from her seat and offering Logan her hand for shaking. " —Senator." Her attempt at being strictly professional is cracked by a hint of humour, silly and sly, reigning in her smile halfway.

Niki is met with seriousness, Logan politely standing up as she does and taking her hand in a brisk and professional shake, just like a politician. "It's good to have you on board, Ms. Sanders," he says, allowing his own twitch of a smile to show through as he releases her hand. He resumes his seat, inclines his head to her. "I'll talk to you soon."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License