2007-04-13: Nathan Petrelli Shows Some Restraint For Once

Starring:

Nathan_icon.gif Gabrielle_icon.gif

Summary:

Nathan Petrelli and Gabrielle Simmons discuss the fate of $70,000. Nathan also totally doesn't sleep with Gabrielle and get blackmailed. Go self-restraint!

Date It Happened:

April 13th, 2007

Log Title

Nathan Petrelli Shows Some Restraint (For Once)


Downtown, NYC - Gabrielle's Office - B and W Trading

The way up to Gabrielle's Office is quiet, and via a private elevator. Though people are rushing about out in the building itself, people inquiring constantly what happened, or spreading the story to those unaware that anything happened at all, in the elevator, things are much less noisy. Though this isn't to say the situation is less tense. There is no elevator music to annoy the two passengers, just the sound of quiet breathing. Occasionally, Gabrielle coughs a little bit, probably from the smoke inhalation, but that's it. Unless Nathan starts up conversation, the trip ends at one of the floors near the top of the building, and then the doors slides open noiselessly, to reveal some hallways. A short walk leads to Gabrielle's office, where Leila the assistant girl is standing beside the door, ready to open it.

It's probably an odd sight, should someone look at it objectively. Gabrielle in all her mostly burned clothes and Nathan with a bloodied, torn suit sleeve, both walking calmly down the inevitably clean and bright hallways and into the spacious office. He actually offers a smile to Leila as they pass her by. He's the first to speak once they're inside, moving towards whatevcer seat is offered. "You're lucky you didn't escape with worse injuries," he says, lightly.

Leila smiles politely back and bows slightly, closing the door behind the executive and congressman. Gabrielle, upon entering the office, immediately makes her way towards what looks like a closet door. She pauses at the door, opening it, and then looking towards Nathan. The seating would probably be on the plush couches in the socializing area, though he is free to sit where he chooses, judging by the lack of objections and directions from the red-head.

"I do not think that luck had much to do with it… I do not get hurt easily. Also, I wear flame-resistant clothing. A precaution against things such as this. I am sure that someone in your position can understand how some would think eliminating you or myself from play would benefit them. Whether that means abduction, harassment, a beating… Or assassination. All unpleasant subjects, but ones that I am all too familiar with." She sighs softly and then comments, "What about yourself? You seem to react much more calmly and thoughtfully in such a situation than others. Have you perhaps been the subject of such attacks as well? Or are you simply innately level-headed and a quick-thinker?" She smiles before heading out of the office proper and into whatever side room is on the other side of that door.

Though it is not visible from there, it is actually a small bedroom. Gabrielle often stays at the office over night, working on things, so saw no reason to go home when she needs to come back the next day. She does go home eventually, but in the meantime, having a place to rest is useful. Heading over to a dresser, she pulls out a new outfit, and discards her burnt clothing while listening for responses from Nathan.

Nathan makes himself comfortable, more than happy to relax despite the circumstance. Plus, the office lends itself to it. It may not be cosy, exactly, but there's certainly enough about it that brings it more into living room territory than office, if one ignores the desk. "Can't say I've had anyone try to kill me quite like that," Nathan replies, and it's only chance that he should come close to the truth behind what happened. "But I guess you can attribute my reaction to being in the armed forces once upon a time." He clears his throat, going on to ask: "So why exactly would anyone benefit from eliminating you, Ms. Simmons?"

Gabrielle didn't bring Nathan Petrelli up here to reveal her personal life, her past, or anything else, really. But she understands that developing a level of trust and familiarity will assist her in getting what she is after. But telling Nathan that she is the one funding the 'Vigilante Squad' that has been reported on the news and in the news papers, and that it is likely the Longcoat Mafia is coming after her because of that, is… Really out of the question. So she tells a different story. Though a true one.

"I was born in France. I lived there until I was ten years of age. During that time, my father incurred heavy gambling debts… And he owed that money to some very 'unfriendly' people. We had to leave the country and move here in order to escape them. We had no money, and my family lived on the street. My mother, father, and older brother all worked to earn money for us, and eventually succeeded. We gained a house, and were able to go to school… The 'normal' things that families in America do."

She finishes getting dressed and emerges from the bedroom, wearing a loose black sleeveless blouse, and loose silky black pants. A coat hangs over one arm, unneeded in the heated room at present. "And then the people my father owed money found us. They came to America and attacked us. My mother and brother were killed, my sister was assaulted, and it was only through my anger and drive to defend my remaining family that I managed to seize a weapon and put an end to the hitmen. It was ruled self-defense by the court, later on." She wanders over towards Nathan, taking one step at a time, at a measured pace. "It was then up to me to take care of my family. My sister was traumatized into a near-coma, and my father was a nervous wreck. So I went to college, got a degree in business, and worked my way up to my current position… An executive of Biggs & Wedge Trading Associates." She smiles and sits down across from the congressman.

"That hasn't stopped the men in France from sending people after me. Infact, it has made them more eager, due to the finances I now possess, and my knowledge of the stock market. They have yet to succeed, but this one… I admit it came close. I was in that car when it exploded. I am lucky that I am…" She pauses, as though catching herself, as she looks up from the carpet. "…'Gifted'. Otherwise, they would have succeeded. As it was, three men who owed me greatly died. That is a terrible, terrible loss, after the effort I went through to help them. One of them was Andrew Pettigrew. He had invested seventy-thousand dollars in some bad stock, but I caught it before the changes went through, having spotted the indications that there had not been any new gold mines established in that country, and that they were simply trying to earn enough cash to break even, before declaring bankruptcy."

She tilts her head to the side, and asks, "Might you know where that seventy-thousand dollars came from that he attempted to invest? While I am deeply sorry that Mister Pettigrew is no longer with us… He did not strike me as the type to be able to afford that much on his own…"

Careful stoicism. This is how Nathan listens to her story, without any outward reaction. Even when she comes to 'gifted', though he carefully files that one way. All this is information to take a hold of and analyse later, rather than an attempt to engage, so that is how he approaches the conversation. So really, he only reacts when she comes to his part of this story, shaking his head a little at the name Pettigrew and glancing out a window. "Pettigrew's made himself scarce since an investigation into some stolen money's being wrapped up," Nathan explains, with a sarcastic smile. "Turns out I've had someone taking straight from the cash put into my campaign last year. Looks like someone else tracked him down before the cops could."

He raises an eyebrow at her, then casually shrugs. "Seventy thousand is about what went missing. You wouldn't happen to know exactly where that money is now, would you?"

Gabrielle nods and says, "Actually, I do. It is in his personal account here at the company. I will need to have the appropriate papers provided to the office to show the loss on your part, and the gain on Mister Pettigrew's, but that is a formality. The money is yours, and you may have it transferred whenever you wish, or have it retitled to the proper owner if you care to continue doing business with us."

She smiles then, her face still showing signs of blackening from the smoke and so forth, though she cleaned most of it off. "I would like something in return, however." She holds up a hand as if to forestall any protests, and says, "To make it perfectly clear, I am not attempting to… What is the term… 'Blackmail' you. The money is yours. You did not try to spend it wrongly. It was taken without your permission. To try to weedle something out of you in exchange for returning what is yours would be unjust, and exactly the sort of thing that the criminal scum who have attacked my family would do. I am not a criminal. You are not a criminal. Thus when I ask for something in return, it is simply a request — if there comes a time when I need assistance with something, which you might be able to assist with, I would appreciate it if you would indulge me a favor. I will not ask for money. I have money. I also will not ask for anything illegal, or which would be harmful to you. But please know, that I may call at some point and ask for help. That is all." She shrugs.

Then she gets up and heads towards the bar, asking, "Now that this is out of the way, what would you like to drink?

And $70,000 is perhaps a little too much to spend for absolutely no obligations. Sure, it's his money. That doesn't stop her from having it. "Gordon's, if you got it." Because Nathan isn't above asking for poison when he wants it. Comes with being 40. He raises a hand to rub the bridge of his nose in weary agitation, but when she turns back to him, however, the hand is dropped and he's giving her an obliging smile. "I don't see why I can't return one favour for another," he says. "I can't promise I'll be of much use to you, but I'll pick up the phone should you call me."

Gabrielle nods as she prepares a glass with ice in it, chooses the appropriate bottle from among a collection of many, and pours it. For herself, she prepares a malibu and coke, and then adds in a splash of something that looks black, but becomes dark red when it mixes with the rest of the glass. Setting aside the bottles, she carries them back over.

"You willingness to assist if possible is appreciated, though I will understand if circumstances prevent it." After offering Nathan his drink, she sits down and raises her own glass. "To a future where crime doesn't pay, and justice is always served." She then gulps down quite a bit of her drink before she lets out a sigh and relaxes in her seat. "I imagine you wish to leave, either for business, or to get home and rest. Please do not feel obligated to stay, though you may if you wish." She smiles and nods.

The thing with gin is that it burns and chokes on its way down, but Nathan smoothly knocks back a generous sip all the same. "I should probably get some stitches into this arm," he agrees, voice just a fraction rougher thanks to intake of hard alcohol. That's a cue to leave, but instead, he squints at her. Things are still too murky. "I'm not gonna be having any future trouble with these…" He gestures absently with his glass. "Whoever it is out to get you. My family's got enough on their plate without me bringing that to their doorstep, I'm sure you'll understand. They got Pettigrew." Another sip of gin. "They're not going to be interested in the source?"

Gabrielle is quiet for awhile, swishing her drink around, before saying in her slight French accent, "I'm having it taken care of. If I tell you more than that, you might feel obligated to become involved. Or not, but it would be best for you and your family to deal with your own problems, as you say. These murderers… They will learn that crime simply does not pay."

"Then I'll just have to trust you'll take care of it," Nathan seems to agree. The gin is finished off, set down on the table between them. "I'm a prosecution lawyer and a politician. As you can imagine, I'm happy to stay removed from the situation." No matter what the rumours about his family and the Linderman Group are. He smiles charmingly at the woman across from him before standing, extending a hand. "I'll have the documents sent here, I'm sure this will get cleaned up quickly."

Gabrielle accepts Nathan's hand, shaking it lightly, and smiles back. "Thank you for your time. And yes, I will make sure that what is yours is returned to you as swiftly as possible." Gabrielle then stands to escort Nathan to the door, as is polite. Leila is standing out in the hall, but seems not to have heard anything said, because she wasn't paying attention until the door opened. Maybe the office is sound-proofed. "Leila, please make sure the Congressman makes it to his car without further delay. Enough of his time has been eaten up by this evening's occurrences already." Leila nods and says, "Yes, ma'am." Then, as Gabrielle says, "Good evening, Mister Petrelli." Leila moves to lead the way to the private elevator again.

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