Starring:
Summary: East meets west, and business is set aside in favor of pleasure.
Date It Happened: March 18, 2008
Press Gang
Apelai Restaurant
Petrelli health care, day forty, give or take a few. It feels like longer to George; after yet another long day hashing out details, he's taking a much-needed dinner break before heading back to his crash space.
Travel the world while sitting right here? Well, a good theme as there ever was. Sierra has always thought about travelling, but hasn't got around to is just yet. Tonight, though, she just feels like having a night out. Too many days stuck in an office is boring. And as they say, all work and no play makes Sierra a boring gal today. She won't let that happen though. She is dressed in casual attire, a dress and a blue blouse with a matching jacket. She enters the restaurant and waits at the podium to be seated.
George is nursing a cup of coffee while he waits for the waitress to come back around again, and fiddling with a sudoku magazine to little avail. Spotting the latest arrival out of the corner of his eye, he sets it aside and waves to her. "They got you too, huh?" he offers.
Sierra taps her foot lightly, humming, waiting for the waitress to attend her to a table. That is, until someone near her speaks. With a glance in the general direction, she smiles. "Ah…George, was it not?" She lilts her head slightly. "Who have got me?" She looks around. "Ah, they've got me waiting, oui." She grins and nods. "I admit…sometimes when I am waiting and see a table available, I almost feel like saying I work for a paper and I am doing a review just to get the table more quickly." She says with a sly grin.
George nods to Sierra, and looks impish. "Well, that's true, isn't it?" At least half of it is - and the other half might be, too, who knows what beat she's on this week. Maybe covering family members of celebrities was just a one-time thing. "They might not believe you, but at least it shouldn't hurt any."
Sierra grins and flicks out a card and her Press badge to show it to George. "I never leave my home without these in hand, though. They come in very handy every day." She says with a smirk. She shrugs. "Would you care to join me if I am able to get the table a little bit more quickly?" She asks merrily.
In response, George glances across his own table. "Well, you're welcome to join me here, if you don't mind it being a bit crowded." Which is a polite way of putting it; the real problem has less to do with the table and chairs, and more to do with the portly fellow at the next table over. At least he looks to be finishing up his meal soon.
Sierra smiles at George and nods. "Ah, a kind offer." She glances at the man at the next table over from George before nodding. "Oui, I believe I'll join you. Thank you." She takes her seat. "How have you been? I have not seen you in a little while. Busy running around for Mr. Petrelli?"
George nods, scooting out the seat a bit with one foot. Politely. Definitely more reserved than that one night when they hit up a dance club. "Afraid so. Throwing his weight behind the projects he has… well, he gets credit, but we all have to work hard to keep earning it. Still, better that than being known as the 'series of tubes' guy, right?"
Sierra smiles sweetly and takes her seat. "Mmm, well, a Senator will always keep busy, no? It is part of their job. I do not suppose you would be able to…divulge what sort of projects that Mr. Petrelli is working on, would you? Only his adoring public and constituents would no doubt love to know."
Without missing a beat, George reaches for his book again, withdrawing his bookmark and handing it to the reporter; it proves to be a copy of a recent article about his health care plan. "More of the same, I'm afraid. The public tends to grow fatigued after a while, especially on national issues— information overload. It's never as easy to empathize with a guy halfway across the country as you'd think it would be."
Sierra reaches for and accepts the article and reads it over. "Oui, I read this one, I believe." She looks from the article to George, looking him over slightly. "Monsieur Dawson, certainly you could tell me a petite more on le senateur and what he is doing, non?" She smiles sweetly. "Mmm, I mean…I do not wish to pressure you outside of work, certainly, but…" she bites her lower lip, "You see, I just…I've got an itch. If le senateur is as busy as he seems, surely he is doing more than just instituting health care plans? Could you not give me a smidgen more of what other projects he has on the run?"
He is, in fact, but George doesn't quite know that. "Like I said, it's a national issue, which means it's about a hundred times more complicated than your average person on the street thinks it is." Not that Sierra is such a person, but most of her readers are. "I know he's co-sponsored some education and trade bills more recently, but he's in a minority role on those, and has said as much."
Sierra leans in, looking George straight in the eyes, one foot rubbing against George's leg. "Are you sure there is nothing more that you could tell moi, George? Anything else at all?"
George starts to say something else, but then the new angle of attack registers. The voice is one thing, the touch is another entirely. "…there is," he replies, "but it isn't related to work any more." Nor will it be, as long as she keeps this tactic up.
Sierra cocks her head to the right, looking much like a little puppy curious about it's surroundings. "Oh?" She forms a little 'o' shape with her mouth as she lets it hang, continuing all waves of 'information gathering'. "Mmm. And what might that be, mon cherie?"
"Well," says George, neither moving closer nor further away, "if you're trying to flirt your way into an inside scoop, that's just bad taste. If you're flirting for its own sake— well. I'm dating someone. Sort of." There's been a kiss or two. "So— that would get complicated. I don't know, is complicated the sort of thing you're looking for?"
Sierra raises an eyebrow slightly, only slowly down slightly, but not quite fully. She giggles lightly. "Cherie. I do not flirt to get stories. That is a terrible thought. I am a proper lady, monsieur. But you are an attractive man. Can I not mix personal while dealing in business?" She smiles at him some more. "Complicated is my middle name, cherie." If only he knew how true that was.
George's tone becomes dry. "You can try mixing them… I think it's a bad idea. On the other hand, if you want to take a break from one and stick with the other for a while…" Well, he isn't saying no, but before he has a chance to say yes, the waitress does finally come around to the table again. "Mmm, the Thai chicken burrito sounds good," he offers, "but I'm not sure if my friend's picked anything out yet."
Sierra giggles again. "Well then, let's stick with personal for now. We can talk business a little later." She can be a patient gal when she wants to. She looks up at the waitress as she arrives. "Just a garden salad for me, merci." She says, nodding and turning back to George. "Now, where were we?"
George makes a face at the mention of salad, but lets it go without further comment. "If I remember correctly," he says, "you were ignoring a bunch of warning signs and buttering me up anyway. Have to give you credit for bravery there." And still he doesn't come right out and say that he does or doesn't enjoy the turn of conversation, choosing instead to leave things up in the air.
Sierra smiles a little. "Ah, cherie, I love a life of excitement. What is life without a little spice, eh?" She shrugs. "How can I not want to…butter up such a handsome young gentleman such as yourself. It is far too tempting." She grins, foot taking a long, slow stroke up George's leg before going back down just as slowly.
George laughs. "Young. I like that." The reporter has a few years on him in the youth department. But, even as he reaches a hand down to rest against the side of her ankle: "But I'm afraid I haven't got a private jet to whisk you away to Aruba on short notice."
Sierra smiles sweetly at George as she softly sighs. "Cherie, I am sure that a day with you is worth a month in Aruba. She flicks back a loose lock of hair. "I'd be happy with upstate New York, regardless." She says softly, with a little wink.
At this point, the target of Sierra's affections decides to stop fence-sitting and call her bluff. If it is a bluff. "I might be able to get Saturday freed up. I'll let you know, okay?"
The only question is…how far would she take the bluff if it is one? Sierra grins. "Saturday is perfect, mon cherie. I've got the whole weekend free. Give moi a call. You have my number, non?"
George inclines his head, taking out his phone for completeness and flipping through the directory. "This is the right one, isn't it?" Still keeping the job in the back of his mind, he waits till after her number is the only thing showing before he turns it around for her to see; almost certainly not a big deal either way, but after a while, it just becomes instinct to keep one's ass covered in case anything ever does happen.
Sierra nods a little bit. She smiles as he turns the cell phone screen to see her number there. "Oui. That is the correct number." She says sweetly. "Well, I look forward to this weekend then, George." She finishes off her salad. "I am glad we will be able to spend more time together. I would very much like to get to know you more."
George is just starting in on his dish, meanwhile - the usual peril of not going the vegetarian route. "I could say the same about you. Speaking of… you asked about my work, that means I get to ask about yours, right? Who else is making headlines in your neck of the woods these days?" And back to business it goes. Besides, it only makes sense that whoever's eating should get to listen more than talk.
Sierra giggles lightly. "Who else? You mean you think that other people get headlines these days other than Senator Petrelli and his family? Silly boy!" She grins and giggles again. "The mayor, mainly. And city planners. The people of Queens who read the Queens Gazette like to know what the city plans to do about their neighbourhoods and their borough."
George feigns innocent confusion. "Wait, you mean Queens is still here? I thought we outlawed it last month. There was a public speech and everything— 'the wrecking balls will arrive in five minutes'."
Sierra giggles and lightly taps George's leg with her foot. "Of course Queens is still here. We've just barely survived by the grit of our teeth…but now a lot of people from the Bronx have moved in." She grins. "But you see, it is a good thing. Now we get to have this wonderful time to talk."