2008-01-19: Not Tonight


Niki_icon.gif Charlotte_icon.gif Randall_icon.gif

Summary: The girls go out on the town before Niki dives into what her old life has in store, they run into Randall, drink a considerable amount and wind up somewhere they didn't mean to go.

Date It Happened: January 19th, 2008

Not Tonight

Fly By Night

Midtown East, NYC

The atmosphere of a club is more than a little overwhelming — even on a early weekday when it's less busy — for a person who has spent the last few days trying to mentally prepare to face their past. A past they don't remember. Welcome to the life of Niki Sanders, circa right now, which turns out to be complicated even her slate is blank. Maybe it's fate.

Standing just inside the doors of the Fly By Night cocktail bar, the blonde looks over at her Charlotte with a worried expression that is not at all conducive to partying. What is conducive to partying is the white dress that she happens to be wearing: its style is quite elegant, all told, with a delicate halter strap with silver rings, but it's short, and the loose V neck is somewhat beyond the confines of 'V'. Niki shifts from one foot to the other, still regarding her friend cautiously. "Tomorrow," she says, decisive. "I … want to see my file. Tomorrow."

Her shorter, younger (sorry Niki, it's true!) counterpart is not nearly so decked out as her companion. It seems she is more of a modest sort, though no less high-fashion. Whoever these two girls are, they do quite alright in the $$$ department. Even if one of them is a sexretary or…some such thing. No one's really sure yet. The brunette is wearing a maroon boat-neck dress, with puffed out sleeves that button in cuffs at her elbows. The top is rather form fitting, down to the high waist which also puffs out in a very tailored manner, ending in a similar styled cuff-hem at her knees. She wears high black boots to stem off the cold and the looks of sketchy New York men. Her doe-eyes are very caring as she looks up at her friend, long gold earrings, the gold shiny sort that could be used for fishing lures, catch the light just so as she moves. A hand moves out to pat Niki's arm. "Tomorrow, then." She promises. "But not tonight." As she says that, she gives a sincere smile, dimples springing up in her cheeks. No, one last night before the world comes back to her.

In addition to a healthy clothes budget, the women also have each other's company to list among their assets. Randall is enjoying no such luck; he's warming a stool over by the corner of the bar, reaching out quite deliberately for his glass to avoid knocking it over, and peering into it as if not trusting that it really is empty. "Hey, another round over here?" he calls out, a little too loudly. As a minimal concession to typical club attire, his usual gray T-shirt and blue jeans have been offset with a dark jacket that keeps him from clashing unless someone looks closely enough.

Not tonight. As is becoming a trend, Charlotte's dimpled smile and kind nature is contagious to Niki (except for the dimples, she can't mimic those, but her own smile is brilliant — together, they're unstoppable!). Here they are. They can't just stand here all night, so Niki touches the brunette's arm and ventures onward. She hasn't forgotten how to walk in those high heels, that's for sure, as the silver pair she's wearing carry her around the dancefloor toward the bar.

Indeed, it wouldn't be surprising for this pair to turn at least a few heads. Particularly when they get to the bar, and Charlotte steps up on the metal foot-rest that runs along the base of the bar for people who are too short to touch the floor from the stools. She's a short woman, even in heels, so it gives her a bit of a boost to get some attention. "Hey! Jagerbombs here please!" She holds up two fingers. And the shitshow begins. The dark-haired man down the bar gets a glance, and a flash of dimples and a nod.

Oh, hey, now there's someone else being loud, too! Or does it just sound loud to Randall because he's already put away a couple rounds? Or because Charlotte is more or less right next to him. "Hey, that sounds good, change mine to that!" he chimes in. "What is that, anyway? The bombs part of it."

Niki glides up against the bar beside Charlotte, her hands coming to rest on its edge, along with the small clutch purse — a vivid satin sapphire affair in contrast to the white of her dress. Her brows raise faintly at the choice of drinks, though it's not entirely clear if she's shocked or if she doesn't know what they are. She's nearly ten years older than her roommate and she has amnesia, give the woman a break. "Sounds like you mean business," she says all the same.

"Don't you?" She asks playfully over her shoulder, eyes sparkling mischeviously through a curl of hair that's fallen loose. At the speak-out from the man beside her, Charlotte gives him her attention again. "Put his on ours." She says to the tender, offering over a credit card that says PINEHEARST across the top of it. "And keep the tab open." Each of the three is given a medium glass of some yellow piss-looking liquid and a shot glass full of some nearly black liquid. Both smell disgusting. "It's energy and liquor and…one of these and I'm the most giddy girl of the night." She assures the boy, stepping back so both can see her. They both seem rather…lost. Weirdos. She lifts one glass and one shot, one in each hand.

Randall turns and smiles, if unevenly, at his surprise benefactor— only to blink in confusion as the fresh two-part rounds are set down and he actually gets to see them. "Uh, Thanks. And I think I'd be giddy too if I was drinking out of test tubes." He picks up the darker one, but holds off on trying it, letting one of the pretty young things go first.

"… uh … huh." That would be Niki's reaction to the lovely drinks that are set before them. She quirks both brows at Charlotte again, but she's smiling. "You know that looks toxic, right?" She glances at Randall, siding with him in this matter of opinion, but she wastes precisely zero more seconds in picking up the shot glass. "Youngest goes first," she says and lifts the tiny glass in cheers to Charlotte.

Charlotte looks between them with a chuckle. "Didn't either of you ever party in a college town?" She lived in one. Two, really, but that's irrelevent. She lifts both the large glass and the shot glass up a bit higher for them to see, since she's so short. "We do them together. It's simple, on the count of three you drop the entire shot glass into the yellow stuff. And then you don't stop drinking until it's all gone." She looks between the two of them, blushing softly as she laughs a bit more. "Come on, I promise it won't kill you." It'll just get them drunk faster and give them a kick-in-the-ass of energy.

Randall swivels his stool around to get a better look at Niki over there, then back to Charlotte. "Berkeley's got all the socially conscious nutjobs— they drink, but it's all this obscure crap that one of them ships in from Johannesburg or something." He peers into the sickly yellow glass next, then shrugs. "Well, all right, can't argue with the one who's buying. One, two…" Five! (Three, you dork.)

"Well, I uh— I wouldn't know," the blonde replies to the query about college towns, but despite the faintly cynical quality to her voice, the good-natured tone wins out. To the outsider— well, maybe she's just insinuating she's never been to college! That would be true enough. "You're the expert," Niki tells Charlotte — clearly! — with a chuckle under her breath before swiping the other glass from the bar, dropping the shot in it, and downing it on Randall's slightly overeager cue.

Charlotte hears the cue and chugs. Chug chug, how ladylike. Yet between her and Niki it's bound to look rather ladylike. Although both substances appeared to look disgusting and smell even worse, together it's almost like a sweet candy. The burn of alcohol? Nonexistent. Charlotte finishes in a few seconds, setting the glass down on the bar with a soft chink as she takes a breath, grinning from ear to ear as she looks between them. "See? Not so bad at all!"

No way is Randall gonna be the combo breaker here; he mixes and drinks right along with the other two, even as his eyes begin to water halfway through. His glass, in contrast, is thunked down loudly on the bar top. "Whoo!" he declares, shaking his head in a vain attempt to come to grips with the double shot. "I think Santa's feeling a little buzzed!" Yes, quite a bit like sweet candy, that.

Not bad at all. Shot thus downed, Niki, suffering no ill effects from the concoction, it would seem, is all smiles as she slides into the stool she stands beside at the bar — if this is what they're going to be doing, may as well settle in. "I don't think we've met," she says as her manners kick in, reaching past Charlotte to offer a hand to Randall. AKA Santa. Uh. Right.

Charlotte reaches up, pushing a few rogue curls of brown hair behind her ear. She nods to the bartender, who takes the empty glasses away, feeling a big ol tip coming in from these three. "Midori sour, please." She orders, turning to look at 'Santa' as well. His little self-name-game warrents a chime of a giggle from the younger woman, listening for a name before she herself is given the opportunity to introduce herself.

Once Randall comes down from his own bout of laughter - it really doesn't last that long, it only seems that way to those in the moment - he reaches over and offers a hand to each of the women in turn. "Randall. Hi." Taking a closer look at Niki, he squints, making an effort to find his proper voice through the growing haze in his brain. "You work at that bookstore, right? Or at least used to? Haven't seen you since… late summer, I think it was, when that missing-person case came through."

Niki never quite gets the chance to introduce herself — not that it matters, right? She's recognized. Instantly, she glances away from the completely unfamiliar face of Randall to the glossy black bartop. "Uhm," she says quietly. "I don't work there anymore," she adds in a noncommittal tone. The glance she gives Charlotte seems to say 'bookstore?', but she's quick to change the subject. "Hey," she reaches out to touch Charlotte's elbow, smiling suddenly. "Order me something else. I dunno what I like."

Charlotte is on that one like white on rice. She holds up two fingers for the midori sour, giving Randall her hand. She hates to do this, but she gives him her big-doe-brown eyes, crossing her legs at the thighs to try and flash a little more skin, releasing his hand slowly to tug her skirt down a bit more modestly, but to make a point in doing so. "And I'm Charlotte. Listen, can we buy you another drink?" Cue patpat of the eyelashes. "It's on the company credit card after all, no reason we three can't have a little bit of fun tonight, hmm?" Distractions! Quick somebody flash him! "And three tequila shots too, lime and the works." She orders. Oh jesus.

Oh, Charlotte, thy name is Bad Timing. Had this display of shy-but-not-really been thrown Randall's direction back in the heady summer of 2007, he probably would've been all over it like… um, yeah. But since then, he met this other girl, and it was going great until suddenly it wasn't, and it's all Complicated. Thanks to the liquor, he does smile back at her, but it's a distinctly confused smile. "I don't see why not," he replies, leaning heavily leftward against the edge of the bar. "Depends what kind of fun you got in mind, right?"

Skirting her perception, Niki notices Charlotte trying to work Randall over — and she silently blesses the distraction, anything to veer the conversation away from wherever it was she met the guy. As her midori sour arrives, oh, so girly, she glances sidelong at the two of them — particularly Randall, wondering where the bookstore was, what his memory was, but although her mouth opens more as if to ask a question, she doesn't. She drinks up, instead, crossing one lengthy leg over the other as she settles in with drink in hand.

Charlotte takes the tequila shots as they arrive, distributing them evenly. "Now everyone know how to do these? These are rather classic." She gives Randall a playful, giddy look. The look she gives Niki? Is a slightly concerned look, the sort one girl gives another when they've met a creeper. Because Charlotte hates being an open flirt, and she did so in order to distract him from Niki's past. So now she's rather locked in: whenever he sniffs to close, flash 'im a little cash or a little…well, flash. This shot is going to go down way too easy. Salt is added to the soft skin between her thumb and forefinger, preparing to take it. When she chinks glasses with them and throws it back, her earrings jingle at the head-whipping movement, and then she bites hard on the lime. Ah well, being a slut (aka flirt) for a night won't kill her. She's just as likely to end up with Niki as she as with some strange man from a bar, no matter her behavior.

Randall is not particularly acquainted with these types of shots either, but he's still alert enough to imitate what Charlotte's doing. The drinking part, not the showing-off part. Fortunately, he never really got to know the old Niki any better than what he already mentioned, so there's really nothing else that he needs to be distracted from. "I had a rough night with Mike's Hard Lime once," he says, "this is gonna beat me up the same way, isn't it?"

"That I remember." Rather well, actually. It's funny, how she can remember things like who's president and how to do a tequila shot, but she can't remember own family, her own name if she hadn't been told it a million times. Following Charlotte's lead (WAY TO GO CHARLOTTE), Niki prepares for the slamming back of some quality tequila - because this is the kind of place that serves quality and charges for it, too. "I think you're in for a ride," she comments to Randall, a sly grin escaping before she tequilas.

Charlotte takes the shot and flinches, making a wrinkled-nose face as she sets the glass down. "Oh good gracious me." The perky little brunette mumbles, bringing a hand up to touch her mouth. "Oh I don't want to do that again…." She chases it with the midori sour…ahh, sweet sweet sour. Determined to keep the focus off of Niki and Randall and any desire for 'how have you been' chit chat that might pop up, Charlotte tosses her hair and gives Randall another look. "She's not kidding. You probably won't remember either of us in the morning." Another sip of her drink is taken. "So what is it you do, Randall?"

That sets Randall to laughing again, shaking his head. "I probably won't remember myself in the morning, the way we're going. —Me?" he adds. Oh, more intros. Okay, he can handle that. "Lot of odd jobs. Bartender, magazine stand. Cab." No, he never shared a shift with Mohinder. "Lately it's been street portraits. What about you? And you," he adds, nodding to Niki again, since she's moved on from the gig he already knew about.

One tequila shot, down. Niki … takes it like an old pro, not flinching in the slightest like her compatriot. "Just, um— " she laughs under her breath, a lyrical sound that belies the effects of the alcohol setting in. "Think of us as mirages." Her subtly rouged and bronzed cheekbones flush with a more organic pink, thanks, again, to the liquor that just keeps coming. Randall's question, as it turns out, is … more difficult than it should be. She flashes him a smile, looking down into her midori sour after the fact, but still smiling. Stalling. "I, uhm. I moved on." She takes a sip of the sour drink without looking at Randall. "Um. This biotech firm."

Charlotte can pick up that slack too, and hopefully she'll be able to not suck so much at this from now on. "That's where we met, at the biotechnical firm. The place really does do amazing work." Yes, Randall, for all you know you're being boozed up by two lovely doctors or scientists. The idea of mirages brings those dimples back front and center, and she glances over to give Niki a quick wink. "Grateful dead for our friend here?" She orders for Randall, looking back at him. "Why indeed, I'm sure by tomorrow we'll barely be faces in the crowd." Not even recognizable if they stopped and asked to be drawn.

Randall gestures to Niki— the fingers wobble for a second, but then it settles into a recognizable thumbs-up motion. "Moved up is more like it. That's some impressive stuff." Charlotte's comment about disappearances, though, only draws his attention all the more; he leans over and holds a hand out behind the brunette's head, as if to check whether he can see through her like a ghost. "And what the heck's a grateful dead? Aren't you two gonna have one?"

But why would these two be asked to be drawn, right? They're being perfect ladies. … Yeah, okay. The one in the faintly scandalous white dress leans over the bar on her elbows all languid smiles with the alcohol in her system — so much, suddenly, after months, years of barely any. "I only know the band," she comments, glancing Charlotte's way. Not that she needs any more; the midori sour and tequila are just fine.

Charlotte doesn't bother to ask what the heck Randall is doing to her hair, but she does reach up and touch it just to make sure he's not /touching/ her or anything. She's rather sick of getting pinched in the bum when walking through a crowded room in this city. Though she starts to doubt this man's ability as a tender. No jagerbombs, no tequila shots, no grateful deads? "More candy, but we've got ours right here." She lifts her midori sour in a little salute. But she has to ask. "Is there something in my hair…?"

The bartender gig didn't last long. And it was in a much lower-class joint than this. And no, Randall's hand is a good three inches away from Charlotte's hair, at least. "No, just… checking my vision. I'm okay. Are you okay?" The hand is withdrawn, leaned against the bar where it can be nice and non-threatening.

"We're okay," Niki answers on Charlotte's behalf. Yeah, she sounds okay. She tosses a look over her bared shoulder to the rest of the club - as it gets later, it gets more crowded, although it's nothing compared to a Friday or Saturday night. She considers a moment. Everything seems so new, exciting. She drinks the rest of her drink before spinning on the bar stool and sliding off once she faces the opposite direction. "We should— I dunno, we should— do something. Dance," she suggests. Rather, the alcohol suggests it and her bright smile backs it up. "C'mon."

Charlotte nods softly. "Yeah…perfectly okay." Alright, enough drinks for this kid. "Dancing? Oh good gracious, Niki, I've never really danced in public before!" Except that one time…and she was wearing giraffe print. She's learned better now. Still, with a playful wink to Randall (she has to continue to play the part, after all) she gets up and follows the blonde

Randall looks to Niki, about to say something, but then turns to shake his head instead as Charlotte starts doubting herself. "Oh, c'mon, anyone can go out and dance in public. Not like anyone expects you to be a pro or anything, you just start moving, right?" As he talks, he straightens up and checks how badly his balance has been thrown off, uncertain whether 'we' is meant to include their new drinking partner or not.

"Hey, it can't hurt," Niki says as she hops off the stool alongside Charlotte. "Besides," she smiles, "For all I know, I haven't either." Oh how very wrong she is, there. Tonight is all about living for the moment — tomorrow is another day. So hey. Onward! She marches into the storm of dancing bodies.

Charlotte looks rather concerned, glancing behind her to see the boy come along. Well she figured as much. As long as she doesn't get pinched in the ass again, and she'll even play defense for Niki's tush as need be. Away they go! And already, Charlotte is blushing in the dark. "Niki I'm not really sure I can do this…I don't like people watching me when I look silly…."

Randall has not pinched anyone tonight! It would have been really blindingly obvious if he had, because he's no longer capable of any sort of small motions unless he really concentrates on holding it together. "Should've thought of that before you bought three rounds!" he calls out, in the general direction where he last spotted Charlotte. That blur of motion over there looks like it could be her.

"You can disappear whenever you want," Niki reminds her suddenly shy roommate with an easygoing smile (thank you, tequila) as the crowd threatens to consume them. "And you don't look silly. C'mon." She grabs for Charlotte's hand, meaning to lift it above their heads and twirl her about. The woman herself finds a natural rhythm with the club's chosen music, hips starting to move easily. "Maybe you just need more to drink."

Randall's much closer to the girls than he thinks. With a giggle and a stumble, Charlotte gives Niki a sloppy 'Shush!'. "Niki just because I can disappear doesn't mean I can do it in a crowded room!" Come on, she's not Hiro or anything. Who just, you know. Magically seems to disappear and reappear without anyone realizing that this dude just came out of thin air. "I don't look silly now, but I will if I dance. That's why I bought the rounds for you two!" She yells over her shoulder towards Randall. Then she looks back at NIki. So…what does she do now?

Like many others here, Randall is no great shakes as a dancer, but he's also too thrown off center to worry about minor details like that. He ducks down as the joined hands swing by overhead, coming up again and imitating a few of the more interesting moves being put up on display.

"I dunno, just…" Niki spiiins Charlotte by her hand and then shrugs a shoulder. "Feel the music. Let go. Isn't that what I'm supposed to be doing tonight?" She certainly has no trouble 'feeling the music'; it comes naturally, the fluid movements, the gentle writhe in time with the beat. Tonight is about forgetting even more. Tomorrow she'll do what's right. Tomorrow. "You know, I think I'm okay at this," she says, letting go of her new roommate in order to turn around in dance, looking over her shoulder. Which means, she can school Charlotte.

Charlotte dodges as the two spin around her. "Maybe I should just go si…..whoo!" She laughs as she's spun around, bumping into Randall. "Oops!" Now the girl's whole face is going red. "I'm so sorry. Niki you ought to know I don't like being /seen/ very much…." Hence the disappearing acts that she's able to pull. One hand reaches out to touch Randall's arm. "I'm so sorry, did I hurt you?" She hiccups, too, but at least her doe-brow eyes are being sincere now, not trying to be slutty (aka flirty)

Randall is turned mostly the other way when Charlotte nudges into him, and doesn't react at all at first, except with something vaguely resembling a smile. Then, as she speaks up, he turns back and shrugs. "No, I'm fine. Are you all right?" Which is as much conversation as he can really handle at once, still amidst the crowd as he is.

Niki laughs as Charlotte goes spinning (into Randall), but she allows the girl her wishes. "I'm sorry," she says through lingering hints of laughter. "I''m … just going to get another drink." Like she really needs it, but she leaves the dancefloor momentarily to do just that.

Charlotte watches her go, turning to Randall. "Oh yes, I'm fine. I'm just…" She shrugs a little bit. "Not really much of a dancer…" She laughs again, until suddenly there's a squeak. She jumps, grabbing her bum. "Somebody pinched me!" Dance floors are dangerous.

It couldn't have been Randall, he was on the wrong side of Charlotte— unless he has the ability to make those arms a foot longer or something. There is, however, a tall thin guy with red hair and a telltale 'I just got away with something there' look on his face. Deciding to prove him wrong, Randall moves over and shoves him away. "Dude, was she grinding on you? No? So back off already!" Oh, great, flirty drunk has given way to annoyed drunk. Someone had better haul him back before a punch gets thrown.

Charlotte takes a few stumbled steps back in surprise, blinking a little bit of the booze from her eyes. "Randall, it's fine, I'm sure it was an accident…" She rubs her tush once more, still not liking that this city makes her into a pincushion, but there it is.

But of course, the redhead steps foreward again, lifting his arms up in the 'I'm so manly start something biatch' way that men do when they're trying to show off the fact that one of their chromosomes is, in fact, a Y. "Don't see that it's any of your business, buddy." Oh shoot.

Randall tries to pay attention to Charlotte and Redheaded Stepchild at the same time, and fails rather miserably on both fronts. He steps forward, intending to just stare the guy down, but instead loses his balance for a second and knocks into someone else. They promptly turn and throw a fist into Redhead's face, without bothering to check whether any of it was his fault or not.

Back at the bar, Niki turns to keep tabs on her friend (and the tagging along Randall) - and her eyes narrows at what she sees. With a drink in hand - another midori sour, because, well, it's easy to ask for 'another one of those' — she begins to stride back toward the dance floor, high heels being urged faster and faster. Her main goal: Charlotte, whose arms she grabs in an attempt to pull her away from the altercation.

Charlotte lets out a perfectly loud shout (which in feminine terms is a scream, but it's not the long drawn-out white girl scream of an action movie) as someone's fist meets Randall's jaw. She's at the poor man's side in a moment, offering what little help she can. The scream and the altercation have now created a circle of people around Randall and his two new archenemies. Charlotte, however, finds herself in Niki's grasp. "No, Niki we have to get them to stop, it's all just a misunderstanding!" A sore tush is not worth this! Despite her early false flirting, there's real concern, hell even fear in Charlotte's eyes as she tries to wriggle from her friend. And poor Randall now has two men standing within the circle with him.

The first punch actually misses Randall and hits the other guy instead, but as the aftermath ripples outward, he does get caught by someone else's blow to the gut. Exercising the better part of valor, he leans down and tries to follow Charlotte's lead and escape from the thick of things.

Niki lets go of Charlotte easily enough. Taking stock of what's going on doesn't prove easy, at first, but she gets it after a few moments, and steps in front of the brunette as the violence ensues. "Back off," she tells the men with an underlying threat to her voice that surprises her - but she doesn't show it. Instead, she advances a few inches, giving him a dark glare. Like she's threatening at all, right, the hot blonde in a little white dress. Hopefully, it's all over anyway.

And it seems that it is. Security will be making their way soon, as they fight through the crowd. Charlotte manages to get to Randall, poor man, and take his arm, reaching to snag Niki as well. "Come on, Niki. Please lets just go…." She could get them all out, right now and say to, Disneyworld if the need arose…..

In his half-dazed state, and headed toward the perimeter anyway, Randall is easy enough to pull out of the crowd. He glances back, looking concerned as Niki steps forward, but then it takes an extra-special kind of jerk to actually hit a woman. As long as she sticks to glowering, she'll be just fine. He hopes.

"Sure, let's get out of here, Charlotte," Niki obliges for the sake of her friend, watching the troublemakers all the while. "Are we taking a taxi, or…" Or the teleporter's cheating mode of transportation?

Whatever Niki was going to say, it doesn't really get said. The Security gets there and there's a collapse of people on top of the three. Charlotte calls out again, and shuts her eyes. One hand on Niki, the other on Randall. Both will feel their bodies becoming tingly, and their vision will begin to speckle. It fades out, the vision, and within a second or two fades back in. There's a rollar-coaster, some closed-up veranda style resteraunts. Darkness, it's night here, and it's much warmer here than in New York. The three find themselves standing well inside a closed-up-for-the-night Disneyland, far from the bar in New York. "Oh." Charlotte mutters, as she looks around. Drunken teleporting is not the best way to go. "Well…that's not good."

Cut Scene!

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