2007-02-11: Room Service

Starring:

Niki_icon.gif Anders_icon.gif Angie_icon.gif Gina_icon.gif

Summary: The Company catches up with Niki to help move along her efforts to get treatment.

Date It Happened: February 11th, 2007

Room Service


The Marriott, New York

Mid-afternoon. Downtown. The Marriott hotel.

The hotel itself may be upscale, but in this particular guest room is not, unless one has an appreciation for a rockstar trash lifestyle. The room, on one of the top floors, is dim; the curtains are all pulled shut, trapping all the darkness inside. It is, quite simply, a mess. Fine linens, pillows and clothes have been flung off the bed, empty liquor bottles scatter the floor, and there's a half-upset ashtray beside a stash of cocaine on the bedside table. Swank, right? Not so much. There's a man lying facedown in the corner over a lamp that's been knocked over, dead asleep. Or maybe just plain dead. Maybe ODed. It's a toss-up. Otherwise, the bedroom area is empty, until the door to the ensuite washroom rattles open to reveal a bleary-eyed Niki Sanders. She smashes a palm to her forehead while trying to slip on one of the hotel's white robes over pink lingerie - all while staring in gradually comprehending disgust and horror at the hotel room.

Things happen as and when they do for a reason, usually at the worst possible time for the worst possible reason. This holds for the loud rapping on the room door that occurs shortly after Niki comes out of the bathroom, a faintly accented male voice saying, "Room Service!" in between knocks, "Ms. Sanders? Your breakfast is here!"

Niki clutches onto the frame of the washroom door, reeling for a moment. She drags a hand across one eye, smearing already askew mascara. She stares at the door when someone raps on it, hesitating and swallowing dryly. "I didn't order room service," she calls out in a soft, cracked voice that nevertheless relays the message: I don't need this right now. Overwhelmed with a surge of anger, borne of frustration and defeat and a million other things, she stomps one set forward in her bare feet, grabs a lamp off the bedside table and flings it with all of her staggering might against the hotel floor. It shatters loudly into innumerable pieces, glass and drug paraphernalia flying every which way. Niki collapses onto the edge of the bed, raking her fingers through her pale hair, and expecting 'room service' to have gone on their way.

Moments pass with nothing and then there is a sharp cracking noise from the doorway. The door swings open on its hinges, revealing Anders (dressed like a stereotypical man in black today, even down to the sunglasses) and Angie in the hallway. Anders' foot returns to the floor and he holds out a plate full of half eaten french toast with one hand, the other holding a pistol underneath the tray, "You did. This is great toast, by the way, you can have it when you come in the car with us."

Angie steps past Anders, though she's attentive enough not to put herself between his pistol and Niki. She gets a good eyeful of the woman, noting with a snarky little smile, "Nice lingerie Ms. S." The smile, snark and all, disappears when she spots the man down on the floor. This time there's no snark, just a demand in the form of: "What did you do?"

Niki, leaning over on her knees, shoots up sharply and looks to the door in bewildered surprise. If the AA team was looking for a kicking-and-screaming fight, they might be in for a letdown. All they're faced with is a teary-eyed blonde in a bathrobe who, quite frankly, looks terrified to see them. She instinctively gets to her feet, backing up into the nightstand. "Who the hell are you?!" Manic blue eyes flick their gaze past Anders to Angie; vague familiarity registers, but that doesn't make her feel any better, particularly when the other woman draws attention to the man in the corner. "I think he just overdosed, I-I don't know," she manages. Confusion leaks thickly into her words as she tries to get them out, but they slowly take on a demanding quality. "Who sent you here? Who are you? I swear, I didn't *do* /anything/!"

"I wish we found more of our targets in this sta-.." Anders starts to agree with his colleague before he too sees the body, "Christ." he says, thumbing back the hammer on the pistol. "We're here to stop you doing this again, Ms. Sanders," he says, after some consideration, "Come along quietly and we can help you."

Angie 's brows come together. She eyes the man more intently now and moves over towards him, rolling him over with some effort. "Ms. Sanders, we'd been told you were coming in for treatment, so I was sent to investigate and make sure you were okay… clearly… you weren't." She puts her ear to the man's chest now, listening intently and hoping for some sign of life. It doesn't look good, judging by her expression. "He's dead."

Suspicion skirts Niki's eyes. And why shouldn't she be suspicious? Two people she's never exactly met before bursting in like this? With a gun? It's Angie far more than Anders that gives her something beyond suspicion: hope. There's a faint, choked sound after the announcement about the dead man in the corner, and she looks between the pair, clutching the nightstand behind her with one hand. "You're from the company Mr. Bishop is from?," she asks slowly, trying to confirm it. "I've been trying to get to you— I didn't mean for any of this to happen, I swear I was fine without the medication until I got to New York. I'll come with you!"

If anything, Anders looks a tiny bit disappointed at the apparent ease of the collar, "We are with The Company, yes," he says, easing for a moment, though the revolver stays trained on Niki, "Come downstairs and we'll take you to get help." he offers, glancing at Angie.

Angie stares at the dead man a few seconds longer than she has to before pushing up to her feet. She moves over to Niki and stares her in the eyes. "This is what happens when people like us don't learn to control our abilities. We become monsters. We hurt people." Then, straightening up, she digs a phone out of her pocket, "Please get dressed. I'll make arrangements to have this… mistake taken care of."

Niki's eyes, wavering though they are with moisture, look firmly into Angie's. There's not an ounce of her that doesn't grasp what she's being told. "You have no idea how much I understand that." She gives the trashed hotel room a look around as if really seeing it clearly for the first time; spotting the dress Gina was wearing last night at the club hanging over the edge of a chair, she takes it in her arms and heads for the washroom. Before Niki slips inside, though, she looks over her shoulder. "I … she's not like Jessica," she says quietly but insistently, glancing with a pained look to the corner where the man lies and shaking her head. "I don't think I had anything to do with that," she says before attempting to change in privacy.

"Keep that door open please," Anders says as he puts the french toast down on the bed and moves to keep the door open, "You understand that we don't want any surprises." he says, gun still trained on Niki's chest (not unlike his eyes, the cad). Of course, Angie could have done this, but its not like Niki can sue the Company.

Angie was about to say something to Anders, but… he knows the score. She flips open her phone then and calls in a report to the Company. "It's me. She's coming with us, but there's a complication. We're going to need a clean up crew at the Marriot. Room 1402." Pause. "Okay." And then the phone is closed up and she's left with the dead guy for the moment.

Niki steps into the bathroom, setting the crumpled blue dress on the counter on her way, and can't help but glare over her shoulder at Anders when he insists on staying. It's understandable, it is; she realizes that she's dangerous. But while she may have taken her clothes off for a living before, but having someone looming here now while she tries to change is more than slightly disconcerting and, let's face it, pervy. The last time someone tried to force her to undress while watching, they ended up painting her garage with their insides. However, she slips out of the bathrobe, letting the terrycloth pool around her feet. There's a hesitation before the lingerie goes the way of the floor, though there's equally frilly and pink underthings underneath. The woman takes her sweet, sweet time getting to that point. Finally, she holds out her hand, her back still away from the door, and says, "Pass me my dress?"

And if Anders falls for it? She's going for the grab, most certainly not of her dress, but of the man's forearm instead.

Anders is indeed a bit of a pervert as both women in the room can now no doubt attest. His eyeline follows the bathrobe as it falls and then the lingerie as it joins the robe on the floor. Apparently an ass man, it takes him a moment or two to drag his vision away and register Niki's request, but it still manages to outpace his rational thought by just a few beats. Instead of telling her to get it herself, he does indeed grab the dress and hold it over, even taking a step towards Niki to do so. As such, its not a great surprise that Niki makes the grab, frankly, but what follows is perhaps one. A second after she Niki grabs him, the air in the room cools to the point that condensation begins to form on the bathroom tiles, whereas the air immediately around Ander's body crashes through freezing point, a mild (though painful) frost over the point of the grab.

"Everything alright in there, Ms. Sanders?" Angie calls after a moment and turns towards the bathroom, though she doesn't go so far as to peer inside. Something must not feel right, because she's tugging off the gloves she had on. "Anders?"

Angie has a good gut instinct, it would seem. Niki - no, scratch that; Gina - spins around as Anders gets to experience her vice-like grip on his arm. The change in the woman is like night and day the second her face is visible - her eyes are dancing with a coy, mischievous light that doesn't befit the current situation at all. She's smiling in spite of it - until, that is, Anders goes and gives her some extreme chills. With a girlish shriek, she pulls her hand back, shocked and offended. "Umm, plan B, okay?" Because she doesn't like Plan AA, she swipes out with her unchilled side in attempt to knock the man's gun away, while trying to elbow him in the face with the other.

"Christ! Alvarez, get in here!" Anders shouts as his gun gets pushed to the side by the now wild girl, "Now!" Anders can, however, handle himself in a fight (and, more importantly, is bright enough to realise someone that can grip that hard can probably punch just as hard, if not harder). He ducks under the incoming elbow, making a grab for the other wrist and moving under the arm if he makes it. Some sort of bastardised version of a Kurushi throw, aiming to twist Gina's shoulder and disable her with the minimum of fuss.

Angie takes those remaining steps and inserting herself into the fight, merely aims to lay bare skin on Gina. Simplistic goal. And given the amount of paralytic toxin on her skin right now, that's all she really needs. No words, no time for them.

Unfortunately for Anders, "fuss" is synonymous with the woman he's trying to disable. She wriggles like a fish trying to weasel out of his grasp, but it's not her squirming that does it - it's the fact that she breaks away as if he had the strength of a kitten, even though he's obviously a strong guy. As Angie appears in the mix, Gina is in the process of grabbing the front of the man's shirt in order to "push" him out into the hotel room proper. Seeing as Gina is mostly made up of bare skin right now, Angie's hand finds her in no time - and she's reaching for the Company agent too, thinking she's going to send her the way of Anders. "Seee ya!" But when skin touches skin, the blonde starts and … stops. As the paralytic starts to work its way speedily through her body, her ability to stand falters and she falls awkwardly to the bathroom tile in a sprawl of limbs.

Getting thrown about like a ragdoll is not really a new experience for Anders, but nevertheless it catches him on guard when a woman like Niki/Gina is the one doing it. Running totally on instinctual queues, the room gets colder again as she pushes him about and into the hotel room proper, the draft left behind the man as he stumbles backwards and manages to trip over the corpse in the corner is positively arctic. When he looks up, the target is out cold on the bathroom floor with Angie standing over her, "We need to talk, Alvarez."

"I'm sorry Ms. Sanders," Angie says as the woman simply falls over. The gloves are reapplied and she eyes Anders, "What about?… The fact that you couldn't handle a woman a half your size?" That's followed a few seconds later with a scathing followup, "Wait. We knew that already." And as if that weren't cold enough, she says, "Take the sheets off the bed and wrap her up in them." And then, as if that's that, she heads for the hallway.

Out cold? Well, she's certainly cold. But out? Almost. Gina's head lolls to the side and stays there; her brows, which were knit in indignant distress, soften as her face is forced into neutrality. Why is on one of the top floors of the hotel again? Fleeing out of the window would have been ace. Instead, she's paralyzed on the floor because of that stupid girl. Trapped, trapped, trapped. It's not a hospitable environment for Ms. Gina. "Mmh…" It's Niki who stares up at Angie from the floor for as long as she can. This wasn't exactly how she imagined going to the Company hospital, but she actually finds herself pretty thankful that she can't move.

"About why..," Anders trails off, frowning and grumbling as he goes about doing just that. He reclaims his gun carefully, shakes off the sheets and, after a few moments of consideration, pulls a pair of latex gloves from his coat pocket and puts them on. He kneels down by the girl's head, clicks his fingers a few times in front of her eyes and looks up at the doorway Angie left through, making sure shes gone before looking back. "I'm sorry for the this, but we can't let you kill anyone else, can we?" he says as he goes about wrapping her up in the sheets, "At least until we need you to."

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