2007-09-12: Sail Away


Elena_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif

Guest Starring: Mehtloafio and the Three Accordions. I wish I was kidding.

Summary: There is a restaurant. On a boat. Sailing around Liberty Island. After a momentary scare (THANKS LACHLAN) and some crazy pop culture hijinks (THANKS NATHAN), Peter and Elena put some definition in their "in-limbo" relationship.

Date It Happened: September 12th, 2007

Sail Away

Aboard Destiny, Open Water, New York Coast


When they got into the car, Peter'd definitely opted to dress up, though apparently he decided to skip the ties. It's not a full suit, but he's wearing a dark blue-almost black dress jacket, nice black slacks and white shirt, and dress shoes. Hair has also been carefully combed, though the curl continues to fall into his forehead. There's no visible sign of a gift or anything else while they're in the car— both sharing the back seat. He got a driver this time.

The direction they head… is towards the Hudson River. There's traffic, as their often is, and some of the people who arrived earlier than them have clogged up road, but it becomes pretty obvious where they're headed when the car finally pulls over. They're at a pier. With boats. Yachts, technically.

Obviously nervous about what she's going to think about this, he still hurries to get out of the car, waving off the driver, so he can try to get around and open the door for her instead. He really hopes she's going to be busy staring, and allow him to do this much.

"It's— a public cruise around the… um…" Suddenly he's all nervous again. You'd think he'd get over this— but it'd been something he'd prepared for over a week now, with reservations and specifically asking for the boat he wanted, and making sure that there'd be dancing, and… he got to be kind of the annoying customer that they don't always like to get. But this is important to him…

"We're taking the… the ship's called Destiny," he seems embarassed again, glancing down away from her face. "The… boarding is at seven, so…" he glances at his watch. "The driver will come back and get us at 11."

He said dress up in something nice, so Elena does, expecting dinner at a nice, sort of upscale restaurant. When he picks her up a little bit past six at the Petrelli mansion, she's already done. As always, she doesn't fuss incessantly over her appearance - her hair is wavy, so all she does is straighten it for a change and part it on one side. Straightened out, the style she's got her hair in is layered, and she pushes her bangs to the side just a bit to give it a sideswept style. Her dress is pretty, but functional - spaghetti straps and a fitted bodice with a modest neckline. Elena hates confining skirts, so the skirt, while it reaches just above her knees, is loose and flows freely, of a sky-blue color, and silver pumps. She spent the ride chatting away, to mask her own nervousness even as Peter fidgeted on his seat and for the most part paid attention. She tells him about work, school, how her tests went. It's only when they get close to the river that she finally falls quiet….because she's staring at everything.

She's still gawking at the view outside of her window. At least she's not sputtering yet because she sees boats. And yachts. And….oh my god what is this? Her eyes are wide, but at the very least her mouth isn't hanging open.

She's barely aware that the door is opening next to her. She's STILL staring at the water front when he peers in to explain just what they're doing. Her eyes are locked at the ship. The SHIP. The NAME. And then, they slowly focus on him.

"I…" she begins. How does she even begin?! No one's DONE anything like this for her before. "Peter, you…oh my god." Her hand comes up to her face, rolling her head back against the car seat. She doesn't get out yet. Because who knows? She could be in an episode of Punk'd and not know it. But she doubts it. She laughs against her palm, turning a little pink on the face. "I feel like a princess," she confesses. "If that was your aim tonight, you win. Win. I concede complete and utter defeat. If I had a handkerchief right now I'd be waving it in surrender." She pauses, and looks beyond him again at the ship. "….which honestly would've been apropos if we're getting on a boat."

Well… it is a restraunt. Just a restraunt on water. With dancing. And… water. It could have been worse— it's a public cruise, instead of a private one— he didn't rent the whole boat for just the two of them. There'll be a couple hundred people enjoying their meal with them, some business dinners, some big parties, and some just dates, like the two of them. There's a small smile as she admits defeat—

"They actually have a cruise ship named the Princess too— and the Duchess, but I wanted this one. It's smaller, but it's also their newest one." It still does cruises— but that might be the reason their third date had to wait til this night specifically. It may not sale every night. It might've had to wait longer just to get the right ship. The name has meaning, right?

Despite his nervousness, he opens up his jacket and pulls out a white handkerchief and hands it over when he reaches in to offer his hand to her. "I didn't intend to 'defeat' you… I just thought… you might like it. There's dinner and dancing both," So it's a good thing that she wore a non-confining skirt. They've never offically danced before— though like so many of the things he'd done with her future self, dancing is another one that he's experienced first hand. Wedding receptions, and all. "And— it'll take us by the Statue of Liberty." Though they didn't bring a camera, she has her jPhone, which worked just as well in the end.

She would've throttled him if he rented a private yacht for just the two of them for this, simply because Elena knows that it would be twice as expensive as what's going on now and she didn't want him to break his wallet over her just for her to feel special. She grins broadly, taking the white handkerchief and waves it at him playfully. This? Is how she tries not to be nervous. She's already nervous enough and hopefully he doesn't feel her palms sweating. She thinks they could be but she could also be imagining things out of sheer paranoia and the fact that Lachlan's talk is still in her poor, traumatized little mind. So when he offers his hand, she takes it, curling her fingers around him as they start to walk towards the boat.

"So this is why you were a little concerned about the weather," she muses, taking a look around. "Rain wouldn't have mattered much in a restaurant on land, but if it's on the water…" Then things might get a little choppy and the cruise might even be cancelled. Spying the name again she can't help but laugh, leaning in to kiss his cheek lightly. "I've never done this before. Is this how you woo all the girls before me?" she teases, a mirthful light in her eyes. She can't help but tease him, it's sort of what she does.

"Dancing, huh? I never did get to give you those lessons," she muses. She offered them when they had just been friends. Though when he mentions that the boat will sail around the Statue of Liberty, she blinks. "Really? That's awesome! Not like I've never been there, but….when I was really young Papa took the rest of the family out to the island. I remember looking back thinking how pretty the New York skyline was during the day. Truth be told, I've never been out there at night. It should be fun." She grins excitedly.

"Yeah… just a bit. Would've wanted to reschedule if the rain got too bad." Wet decks and all— they wouldn't be able to enjoy standing out on the decks and looking at the skyline. They still could've danced— assuming it wasn't cancelled, but… "Honestly it's the first time I've been here except for family things," Peter adds with a shrug, so she knows that, while he has been on one of these cruises, it's never been for a date. It's something unique there. It'd always been a family thing. And certainly never on the Destiny, their newest addition to the fleet. He squeezes her hand, letting her keep the flag of defeat, before he helps her to her feet and starts to pull him towards the boarding ramps— where he'll need to show his ID to prove he belongs there.

But for the moment, he's mildly pleased at her surprise. Not because of how much it cost, or how fancy it is— but because it would give her an experience she'd never had— the city skyline at night, with the Statue of Liberty looking on. And dinner and dancing as well.

"Well, we can call these the lessons. Just don't get mad at me if I step on your toes a few times, okay?" There's still a smile, and he leans in enough to kiss her cheek, but then they'll need to prove his identity for the reservation — already paid for. Petrelli, party of two. And with all the 'high society' people around… there might be some who would recognize what that name means, even if his few moments in the newspapers were last year. Due to his brother's recent campaign… certain people might be looking for any reason to nip at his recent disappearances.

The flag of defeat is clutched in her free hand, considering the other one is taken up. Elena can't help but laugh, giving him a small grin. "This is amazing," she says, the shock having worn down to a little sense of giddiness in doing something she hasn't done before. She's had her first taste of the overseas, of private jets….and now she's on a cruise. Even if it's just along the Hudson and Liberty Island. She wishes she brought a coat though, she'd love to stand on deck without feeling a chill - but hell, she'll do that anyway! Besides, the dancing should warm her up. She waits for Peter to show his idea, watching as security quirks a brow over the name.

"Head right up, Mr. Petrelli," says the stern-faced fellow, handing him back the ID.

Despite her father's elevation as chairman of Evosoft, Elena still feels a little out of place in high society. The bling on some of the grande dames inside the boat the moment they step into the restaurant area is positively blinding. Cartier and Tiffany's were everywhere. Still, she relaxes a little when Peter kisses her lightly on the cheek, and she squeezes his hand a bit. "It'll be easy. You learn quickly," she assures him with a smile. "And nothing too scandalous. Beginner's tango is actually pretty tame, though we break out some of the real serious stuff during Dance Corps sometimes." She leans over and murmurs quietly. "A few people seem to be staring at you though…" No, she doesn't seem to be aware of the entire 'My brother tried to commit suicide' story.

"Thank you," Peter says to the man, putting his identification away and leading up onto the dining area— with the dancing and the music already playing. There's no one actually dancing at this exact moment, but she's right, there's a few upperclass people who are looking at them, and staring, but he's doing his best to ignore them. The trust-fund brigade were never his favorite people in the world, nor were the lawyers or the rich executives and their sons and daughters— he always prefered more down to earth people— at least in terms of means. It's his brother— and Simone and Charles, actually— that were an exception to the rule in many ways— and he'd do just about anything for him, even putting on suits and ties and hanging out at fundraisers for these very same people. With the Deveaux, earning money off of art and music attracted him more than shady business dealings, even if the old man did love the stock pages as well.

"Maybe they're just wondering who the beautiful woman on my arm happens to be," he says with a grin, squeezing her hand. But then he frowns towards them. They are staring at him. Sure, it might have something to do with the pretty woman on his arm, but it could also have something to do with his brother's campaign and… other things that came out during his last campaign. Some of them were probably at his fundraiser. This is the type of thing those people spend their weekend's doing, after all.

"Wait, a tango?" he suddenly says, looking back at her. Was that what she was going to teach him that she never got around to? In the future, slow songs had been avoided… for various reasons.

A few may or may not recognize her, or at least those who pay attention to the society pages do. Elena had been in a few photoshoots for Evosoft, but she's using Peter as a shield against whoever could be staring at them by….simply sliding to the side and letting his bigger body block their view of her. Sorry, buddy, you're on your own! If he gives her a look, she'll smile at him sheepishly. "Looks like you've become an expert with your internal Ignore button whenever you're in places like these," she murmurs softly and gives him a nudge. Where's their table? Is it by the window? Something tells her it probably is. Truth be told she hopes it's a little far away too if not just to avoid the stares tossed in Peter's direction.

Yes. Being a Petrelli must be difficult.

"Hah hah hah. You're hilarious," she tells him at the flirtatious comment, but she does grin at him, her discomfiture to foreign surroundings fading away bit by bit. She tugs gently on his arm, and whenever they start moving again, she'll follow. If he can ignore them, she certainly can.

"Well, yeah. It's a classic. That's the beautiful thing about ballroom, you don't have to be super-flexible," she tells him as they walk. Tango can be slow, but not-so-slow as well. Though she'll wait for the right beat before attempting it. Her eyes gravitate to a passing waiter, who bears a platter of amuse bouche towards a waiting table. "…." Food. Food.

"Kinda have to, honestly— some of these people know my brother, or used to know my dad…" And they're all rich and nosey… or at least most of them are. With a lot of these people, the stereotypical 'must be better than the next guy' becomes truer than one would want to think. Peter leads her towards a table, because he knows exactly which one it is. Seating arrangements came with a map, after all— and they explained the location of his table. Yes, it's near the window, on the side that passes by the statue, actually. A little close to the dance floor. Not the best table in the place, though, because it is a little close to some of the other tables…

"That's us," he adds with a point towards said table, set for two, and indeed there's a little stand up card with his name on it in fancy print, including the boat name, for two, and the menu for the night. Minus the cost of dinner— because that was all included. Only special wines might be tacked on, but considering her age, that won't be an issue. He isn't ordering a bottle of wine with their dinner.

But he does pull a seat out for her. "I'm somewhat flexible, I'm just not very good at dancing." He does ice skate, though, so it's not that he's completely clumsy on his feet.

"You're hungry already, aren't you?" he says with a hint of a smile, getting to know her appetite quite well. "Unfortunately this isn't a buffet, though they do have appetizers. If you're really hungry you can have mine." That should tide her over until dinner, he hopes.

…he is? "You are?" Elena wonders. She doesn't know it, because she's never seen him demonstrate it. But if he used to play hockey and lacrosse it made sense. With the chair pulled out for her, she grins at him gratefully, taking a step into the area and sitting after he's scooted her in a little bit. She can't help but eyeball a few grande dames eyeing the younger Petrelli brother from the other side of the room. "….how nosy?" she asks. "I mean, not like you're not handsome to look at but…"

Honestly. Certainly there were better things to do than stare at a politician's brother.

Of course, she doesn't know about the suicide scandal.

"You'll learn," Elena says with a laugh, folding her arms on the table and smiling at him warmly. "I just need to teach you. I won't go too crazy, I promise." She can't help but look around again, marveling at the scenery. She was in a restaurant. On a yacht. Something she's never done before. For someone as adventurous as she was, and not having a lot of time to indulge, this was amazing. Though when he teases her about her appetite, she smiles back a little sheepishly. "Well I ate some before I left," she admits. Just so she doesn't have to pig out in front of him. She's a little self conscious about her appetite these days as it is. "So not too much but whatever they serve here, it smells amazing."

"Just ignore them," Peter says, helping her into her seat, even if she doesn't need it, before he sits across from her. "Really— they won't do any harm— they're probably just gossiping." And maybe recognizing her from same photoshoots. It might become public gossip among these rich socialites that the Petrellis now have a connection to the Chairman of the Board of Evosoft, and all that crazy stuff. They could spend hours coming up with reasons they could be seen together, like assuming that he was getting campaign donations from them, or they were lobbying for some kind of government contract they wanted a new Senator to get for them— all kinds of crazy political-rich people stuff. When this date has nothing at all to do with either. Turning over the folded card, he glances at it, and then points it towards her. They have plenty of appetizers to choose from tonight, and entrees and a promise of a dessert tray at the end of the night. The usual fancy restraunt stuff, including stuff for those of special dining needs, such as vegans and vegetarians.

"You know… you can eat in front of me. You don't have to be embarassed about it." He seems to have noticed that she's eating extra when they're not with each other… and he's starting to get the clue that she doesn't want to eat in front of him. "You make cute little faces when you eat." Nibbleface— chipmunk cheeks… they're all cute. "That's one of the reasons I like cooking for you… I like to watch you enjoy what I made." Even if he hasn't cooked for this one very much yet…

They had a few moments to look at each other before there's suddenly a waiter in nice clothes, a black tie, and he offers them drinks, wine and their choice of an appetizer. Water and salad, with garlic bread seems to be on the menu for Peter. Even if he could order wine (and honestly she could probably get away with it too) he's sticking to water. Especially if she wants him to dance.

"I can't help it," Elena says, with a little smile towards Peter. "I'm not used to this sort of thing." But Peter clearly is. She takes her napkin and unfolds it, draping it on her lap. And most probably, send the younger brother to schmooze with the eldest daughter of the software giant's chairman of the board for hefty contributions. Ramon Gomez had been an everyman before his status was elevated in Wall Street, of course he was going to vote Democrat. Even if Ramon was someone who could make his own mind, clearly, and go with what he thinks is right. Considering his ties with Nathan Petrelli already, though…. she has no doubts that her father and the senator-to-be have been seen together already. Ramon's told Elena he's spoken to him several times.

That is, if Nathan still wants to be a politician after everything he heard about the future.

When he calls her about the eating thing, she grins, despite the embarrassed tinge of red on her cheeks. "I know. I just figured…you know. Nice place and everything. But I know that, I just…" She bursts out laughing all of a sudden. "It's just that you're so biased." And he is! Don't deny it! But that doesn't mean he can't be honest about it too. But her smile is somewhat shy, her eyes lowering to the table even as he looks at her across the table. "You…didn't really have to go all out, you know. I love it, but…you know you don't have to, right?" she asks softly.

She would say more, but then UNEXPECTED WAITER. …only not really because he's a waiter and this is what they do. She squints at the card, and nibbles on her bottom lip absently as she tries to decide while the waiter looks on patiently, even if he's openly beaming at her. Maybe out of sincerity, or maybe it's the usual Guy Waiter trick to charm the lady at the table for a bigger tip. Finally, she settles for the shrimp cocktail.

"Unfortunately with the position your father's in now— you might have to get used to it— not to mention your boss, half your friends, me…" Peter can't help but smile at the poor little rich woman who didn't used to be rich, but definitely is on her way to becoming it now. So many of her friends belong to this high society group, even if they've tried to make themselves on their own terms… they still belong to it in family and blood. And now she does too. Things will be changing for her.

"And you're right… I am biased," he adds, lopsided smile and all. But then there's her lowered eyes, her embarassment. He can't help but lessen his own smile just a bit— worried that she might have the wrong impression, or that she doesn't really want it despite saying she likes it… The waiter ties him up for a moment, taking their orders, smiling mostly at her, and then leaving with a half bow and a rather polite exchange— mostly at her. Charm the lady, right?

Once he's gone, though, he reaches across, snagging the hand with the handkerchief and holding onto it. Not to take away her handkerchief— just to hold her hand for a moment. "I know I didn't have to do this— but I wanted to take you somewhere nice. It won't always be like this, though… we'll go mini golfing, or iceskatting, or something silly next time…" It's a promise, but right now… he wanted to do this. There's a reason for it. One that can wait til dinner. He glances towards her wrist for a moment, as if making sure she's not wearing anything on it— he doesn't have his gift on him, but that won't stop him from giving it to her (Thanks, Jack).

"I know," Elena grumbles. "Trading in an old set of problems for new ones, right?" She looks up at him and gives him a smile. "And yeah I know. I mean, Sam is normal, Miki is…" Oh if she only knew. Those dark secrets will be tumbling out eventually. "For the longest time, you and Jaden and Eric seem to be the only one…you know. Connected to all of this. I thought that would stay that way forever, but Jaden…" She really should hang out with him more often. Not as boss-employee, but as friends. "I didn't think he'd offer Papa that position. But when he found out….you know. Nothing was going to stop him." Jaden practically latched onto her father after finding out he was a telepath.

She grins at the waiter, at the bow, and then he leaves. But when Peter starts telling her it won't always be like this, part of her is relieved. She doesn't want him breaking the bank for her. "I know, I just….I….there's a lot of things I don't know about this sort of thing. I don't want you to feel obligated in any way, but if you did this because you wanted to….well, that makes things alright," she says with a wider smile. When he takes her hand across the table, she squeezes gently. "And it's not like I'm not excited either, because I am. I've never been on a boat before. At least nothing like this. Does the ferry count?" The last is a jest.

When he looks down, save for Gene's Casio in one wrist - which might look out of place with the rest of her clothing, but she doesn't take it off. Not only because it told the right people where she is at all times, in case something happens, but also because Gene had given it to her. There's also a strange ring around her finger, with a heart on it. At least it matches the Casio?

A ring with a heart on it? That earns his eye for a little longer than it probably should, but… when Peter glances back at her, he nods. "Yeah, sudden changes are never easy— after dad died I thought I was getting out of all the dinner parties and anything not— normal." His graduation party had been in his own apartment— which is where he preferred all of his parties, actually. They were far more intimate, and he could kick them out when he wanted them to leave— control what people drank and how much, and other such things. True, having a party at another location would give him the option of leaving when he wanted to— but if it was a party for HIM— he'd rather have control over it. "Then Nathan went into politics on me." Lawyer was easier to deal with, honestly, even if he did work in the DA's office.

"No— I don't feel obligated. I'm happy just being around you, doesn't really matter where— I just wanted to this." They could be pillow fighting, or playing minature golf, as he said they can do next— but this… there's something important about this. Which— he'll get to eventually. If he doesn't chicken out. The water arrives first, along with the appetizers, meaning that he has to let go of her hand and sit back into his chair for a bit.

As he unrolls his napkin with the many utencils, he pauses, glancing back at the ring on her hand.

"What's the ring?"

"Well he had it tough too, didn't he?" Elena asks, taking her hand back once the food comes, and toying with her fork. The decorative, crystal bowl full of ice and six pieces of shrimp is set in front of her, and she admires the look of the food for a second. And then she takes her fork, and starts on it. "He's the oldest….most of your parents' hopes probably rested on him before you were born." She pauses. "….as close as the two of you are, I wouldn't put it past him to take on all the pressure voluntarily just so you could be free to do whatever your heart wanted." Because that's usually how Peter operated. It didn't work completely considering Peter and his father had a falling out, but she wouldn't put it past Nathan to try and do that for him.

"Alright, if you really wanted to, I can't begrudge you. Plus I'm…" She grins. "I can't help but feel a little giddy. I've never done this before." If he eyes the ring in any length of time, she doesn't seem to notice it. That's until he asks her about it. Instead of looking guilty, or anything like that, she bites her lip to keep from laughing. Finally, she lifts a hand, burying her face in it. "….if I told you, you'll laugh at me."

But he seems serious about it, so she leans back, and attempts to look him right in the eye. Without busting a gut. "…..have you…heard of this cartoon before? Captain Planet and the Planeteers?"

Oh god. He'd know instantly. Jaden definitely had something to do with this.

"He gave us all rings that look like the ones in the cartoon. I mean they've got stuff built into it, but…he gave me the heart symbol because apparently he thinks I have the power to…charm people rather well." That's not exactly what he said, but the way he said it made it sound so bad she can't say it during a swanky dinner.

"Yeah— Nathan had it pretty tough. He did everything dad would've wanted… joined the military, became a lawyer…" All the things their father would have wanted, and he did them very well. Peter has to admit that. Did he do it just to spare him the expectations of the family? He'd honestly never considered it, especially since his brother's expectations for him had been just as high as everyone else's in some ways. Or at least sometimes it sounded like they were. Disappointment in the end as he may have been… at least to his father… he's not sure if his brother had been playing along to make him try and do more with his life, or if he actually thought that way too… Now? He's almost thinking she's right. "Might be right— but it's a good thing, either way. He's better at most things than I am."

It's true. He'd not been top of his class because of their parent's money. He didn't get into school just because of his last name. A lot of things he earned and worked for on his own— and that's why his brother's so proud of him.

"Nothing wrong with giddy."

At her profession that he'll laugh at her, his eyebrows raise. Half of him expects her to explain how her baby sister got her a ring, or something— but what she does explain is definitely amusing. It's not a laugh that she gets, but there's a hint of one in a sudden exhale. By this point, he's eating a few bites of his specially prepared salad, but… "Heart, huh… that makes sense." She'd been the Heart in the future too, as he'd noticed more than once. "And you do. Have the power to charm people." And make them happier than they have any right to be… but he doesn't feel right adding that just now. Appetizer first.

"You have your own place in this world, Peter," Elena reminds him gently. "I think you know what that is. Honestly I think you're pretty good at it." His talents lay in other things. Making people hope. Loving those who needed it. Saving others, and usually from themselves. Preventing one apocalypse after another. They all have their places. After 27 long years, 28 this year, Peter's finally getting to that point. She, at 19, still has no idea. All she knows is that she has to be here in New York. Besides, the little things, like getting into school due to your own cred, or getting at the top of his class on his own, those mattered too.

She laughs. Because that's really not what Jaden said, more like she paraphrased it, but it's close, without it being too crude. "Maybe. All my little personality things seem to say so. I'm an Aries. I took this Myers-Briggs test a while back for college and I turned out to be a…a…" She squints a bit, trying to remember. "ENFJ I think. I mean I already knew I was going to score as an Extrovert…I mean I don't really put much stock onto all of that but it's fun to read especially when you're a teenager without a lot of friends."

How things change though. Now she has plenty of them.

When the boat finally casts off, the 'party' in the restaurant is in full swing. It drifts off, out of the harbor and into the river before it sails for open water. Some people are starting to dance after their dinner, but Elena's taking her time savoring everything, chatting with Peter about her entire week. About her tests, and her fretting over them, and about how Columbia University drew first blood in Prank Wars this year by stealing their Bobcat mascot costume, stuffing it like an effigy, and stringing it up a flagpole dressed as Jar Jar Binks with the banner LIONS ROCK, VIOLETS SUCK floating above campus for all to see.

"That's okay. I suppose it's only fair," Elena says with a laugh, once their last dinner course is finished and at the end of the tale, taking a sip of her virgin mai tai. She's had a few of them already. It's delicious! "We drew first blood last year when Phi Gamma Epsilon did a naked wave during Columbia University's first soccer home game."

Beneath the general noise of conversation and cutlery within the dining room comes a new sound. Squeaking wheels, to be exact, as a dessert cart is pushed on over. Manning it, is… well he's not a waiter. Dressed in masquerade Victorian costume, with a cane in his free hand and a large gold mask to covered half his face, the large-ish man doesn't look up until the dessert cart is rested somewhere near Elena and Peter's table. It's covered with a shimmery silk cloth of elaborate gold and red, so it's hard to tell what's on it. The large man then addresses them both, his voice a deep baritone. "Excuse me?" he says politely, in a thick accent that can really only be described as European. "Zis is ze table of Elena and Peter, si?" The mask only half-obscures a friendly smile as he addresses them.

The dessert cart is supposed to be a staple of this thing, Peter read about it in the brochure. It's part of the dinner and everything. With the sun setting in the background, he's politely listening to her conversation over the rather delicately made dinner— almost a work of art on it's own. Tempting not to eat it— but they both do, and there's a quiet moment where he's just listening, and laughing at the things she has to say. The prank war between the schools certainly surprises him, but— it really shouldn't. He just never participated in those kinds of activities. He's a Capricorn— never taken that test, but he knows that he's a Goat in the Chinese Zodiac. Maybe he should take it, but he thinks they both know he's going to get Introvert if he does… anyway…

"Sounds like an interesting thing you have going on there," he says about the prank war— right up when the dessert tray comes around— with someone not their waiter. He blinks, eyebrows raising and— unfortunately answers, if in a confused voice, "Yes?"

The dessert cart is coming. Food is NOT OVER. Elena still has some spare space in her belly. She's actually not paying that much attention to their surroundings, most of her attention is directed to Peter as he laughs, and humors her with her tales of college inanity, and the sunset. They have a very good view of it considering they've been situated oceanside where they could see open water and the approaching Liberty Island instead of the cityscape, which she'll want to take a gander at later when it's dark. When an accented voice reaches her ears, and when Peter sounds confused, she tears her eyes away from the window…

To see Meatloaf and a Dessert Cart.

Okay. It might not be Meatloaf but he certainly dressed like him from the music video he did to 'It's All Coming Back To Me Now' feat. Marion Raven. She just….looks at Peter quizzically, and then back at Not-Really-Meatloaf. Did he arrange this?

"Vunderful!" Is that German? Transylvanian? French? God, who knows! The man raises a hand, and three far smaller, skinnier men wander on over as cued, dressed in similar, if less elaborate garb. But what is important is that all three of them are carrying accordions. Yes, accordions. The first one clears his throat, and speaks in a louder voice, gaining the attention of those seated nearby. "Ve are here to accompany ze newlyweds with a song in celebration." He waits for claps, which a few people do, if awkwardly, eyes trained on the unfortunate couple. "To Elena and Peter Gomez, from Mehtloafio and ze Three Accordions." He clears his throat, and as one, the three men behind him start to play. It's rather loud. What's louder? Mehtloafio's operatic singing.

Elena, unfortunately, was rather correct.

"Zere ver days when ze sun, was so cruel~. Zat my body froze in bed if I jus' listened to eet right outzide ZE VINDOW~."

Accordions do their thing.

"I feenished crying in ze instant zat you left, and I can't remember VHEN or VHERE or HOW~, and I baneeshed every mem'ry you and I had everrr maaade~…"
All channels have been gagged.


Peter doesn't even know how to respond to this at all. He just kinda sits there in shock, unsure what the hell is happening, who did this— WHY. His first thought isn't the true culprits, but friends of Elena's, because they do seem to be the type to hire accordian players to dress up in costume. But none of them knew where he was taking her tonight, unless they have a tracker on his computer— which he wouldn't put past Gene to be able to do, but he's not going to spend his time on that sort of thing surely. The only person who knew exactly where he was going. Was his brother.

And this…

He blinks. His mouth opens. He looks over at Elena. He's dumbfounded. Just look at him. What do people do in this situation? And worse… all those people who'd been staring at them before? Now they're really staring at them.


"…..did he just call you Peter Gomez?" Elena squeaks faintly, now that ALL EYES are on them. Someone must have done something, paid, BRIBED the yacht staff to even let them ON THE BOAT, let alone provide….entertainment…for the rest of the masses. She can't help but turn a little pink, and then red, and then purple. Oh my god. Peter didn't do this, did he? But by the look on his expression, he didn't do it either. So she's left staring at him, staring at 'Mehtloafio', and then back at Peter.

Oh. My. God.

She shrinks back into her chair, and buries her face in her hands to shield others from the FIRE ENGINE RED her face is right now. She didn't know whether to cry in sheer horror, or laugh in sheer horror. Either way, the horror, the horror! She grabs the handkerchief and returns to burying her face in it. Her shoulders are shaking. Oh no! Is she crying? DID THE EVIL NASAN PETRERRI MAKE HER CRY?

Yes. Yes he did. She's trying to choke back hysterical laughter.

Apparently oblivious to the mixtures of horror, bafflement, and hysterical laughter from his two person audience, Mehtloafio only continues, gesturing expansively. "But vhen you touch me like zis, and vhen you hold me like zat, I just have to admit zat eet's all coming back to me~… now~!"

His faithful back up accordions sing the back up. "It's all coming back, it's all coming back to me now~!"

"ZERE VER MOMENTS AUF GOLD!" Mehtloafio suddenly belts out, "AND ZERE VER FLASHEEZ AUF LIGHT~. Zere very things ve'd never do again but zen zey always seemed right~."

And during this, he whips off the cloth on the dessert cart, and places down a cake onto their table with a flourish. It's… pink and vanilla, and rather tasty looking, with 'ELENA AND PETER GOMEZ' written on it. But what is important is that it's… well. It's shaped like two female symbols linked together, in the well known symbol of lesbian union. Mehtloafia lights and quickly places sparklers into the surface, which fizzle merrily.

"Zere ver nights of ENDLESS PLEASURE! It was more than any laws could allow~!"

"Baby baby baby…"

Break it down, accordions.

And if Elena is looking closely, she will find a small note stuck into the cake, not facing Peter, but facing her. Because there is always a note. It reads:



Yes. Yes. The man just called him Peter Gomez. And— it's only when the cake is revealed that it really sinks in. With the two female symbols. "I'm going to kill Nathan," he mutters under his breath, now a nice shade of pink to match hers. He stands up, pulling out his wallet and as much cash as he carries on him — minus a twenty for the tip later— and hands it over to him. "Stop playing, please. Just— leave." Just— LEAVE. Please. There's— He's so sorry, Elena, he has no idea why Nathan would do this…

There's so many things he wants to do, but with everyone staring at them, and with the whole… situation— he just wants them to leave so he can continue with his date. He'd planned everything! But he hadn't planned for this, not at all.

How much money did he hand over? Not too much, honestly, but fifty dollars is pretty good for a tip. Paying them money just to leave— that's what it amounts to. At least he's not demanding they take the cake with them. Though he's probably going to squish the frosting as soon as possible.

The accordions sort of wheeze to a halt when Peter stands up, and Mehtloafio stops from where he was pulling out a velvet bag from his pocket. "Leave?" he asks, but then he sees the money, and like a true artist… he accepts it, stuffing it into his pocket. He pushes his mask up to address Peter. "Are you sure, monsieur? Perhaps Signor Gomez vould be vanting a new song instead?" he asks, confusedly. AND A LITTLE HEART BROKEN. Not really, as he did take that fifty. "Mehtloafio and the Three Accordions," he adds, addressing the wider group, sort of in advertisement, "know a great many popular classic hits for ze young couplez in love!"

"No— and my name is Petrelli, thank you," Peter's not pleased at all, but— what can he really do? Elena's giggling from her seat, crying while she laughs, but she's also been embarassed— and so has he. Female symbols. Don't think he knows what that measn. His brother is going to get words sent at him for this— though he's not sure exactly what words they will be yet. "I think we'd like to enjoy our cake in peace, if you don't mind. I'm sure there's someone else who would appreciate your entertainment." But they aren't hint. At least he knows that these people, with their masks, are just doing as they're told…

But surely they know that this was a joke of sorts.

He's really going to kill his older brother for this one. Fitting, since his older brother recently wanted to kill him for something else entirely. Time travel is very different from public humiliation!

And to give emphasis, he stays standing. He's not sitting back down until they're gone. Shoo.

The little post-it note is on the cake. Elena manages to pick it off the icing, and she looks at the notation. The smiley face. The signature. NATHAN. "……………………………." The dots are so audible people across the room could hear it.

Clearly, Goose has won this round. She's going to have to come up with something insanely brilliant later. Prank Wars will give her practice. He's not getting away with this. Still, she wipes the tears from her eyes with the handkerchief, and she beams at Mehtloafio. "I think we're okay. Give my regards to your employer for us." Because he's going to die tomorrow. She knows where he lives. But with her smile, you'd think she wasn't thinking of a million different ways to EXACT PETTY AND CHILDISH VENGEANCE.

But to her credit, she's trying to keep a straight face. She's still a little red, her eyes are a little teary, but as far as third dates go, this was certainly more interesting than most.

There's a pause, as Mehtloafio considers the man's words, then Elena's. Then, he grins at them both. "I'm guessing you're not gonna be wanting the tape to remember the special moment," he asks, his pseudo-European dropped in something that sounds distinctly New Jersian, and he shrugs his broad shoulders. "That's cool." He clears his throat, sinking back into the European. "Accordions avay!"

Then, he pulls out a handful of pink rose petals from the velvet pouch, and tosses them up into the air above Elena and Peter's table - which was apparently the finale and he's not about to give it up, damnit! - and puts his mask back on, moving to sweep on out of the dining room with a last, "Enjoy your dessert!"

The accordion players pause in uncertainty, then as one, they do one more harmonic chord, before following their leader.

Oh god there's a tape!? BURN IT.

Ugh. Only once they're moving away does Peter sit back down, buring his face in his hands for a moment. She got to do it for the longest time— now it's his turn. Give him a minute, okay? A little after required minute, he looks up and says, "I am so sorry, I have no idea why he would do this… I really didn't— I thought telling him was harmless, I just showed him the brochure and told him what day we were— I had no idea, I swear." Please don't be mad at him. He meant this date to be as perfect as possible.

Little does he know this prank wasn't aimed at him at all. It'd been aimed at her.

He hasn't even asked her the important question, or given her the present yet and… what if she says no now because his brother's a big embarassing jerk. It's a good thing he doesn't really care all that much what the people on this boat think about him. But it was still kind of mean. To him. Who has no idea what his brother and his would-be-girlfriend have been doing to each other for the last few weeks.

She laughs and reaches out to touch his hand on the table. "Don't worry about it. Besides, it's not him he's out to ruin, it's me."


"Remember when I told you that he sent the red, white, and blue chicken suit to Evosoft after he found out about the story from Heidi?" Elena asks. He probably remembers because his memory tended to be good when it came to things about her. And then, she launches on the story as to how she got back at him, blowing up a decent portrait of him from a digital picture she managed to take during one of his campaigns….and later went to a specialty store to transform it into a hologram, and stick another picture as the second image. This image happens to be Nathan and Jack doing their glam-rock thing during Jaden's costume party, complete with lipstick and eyeliner. And she sent that to Nathan's campaign headquarters.

"Your brother got me good. Though…..I didn't think you would tell him about this." She gives him a look. Then again, she should've expected it. Peter tells his brother almost everything. "I would hit me too, today, if I wanted to get back at me." She doesn't look mad at least, in fact, she's grinning. She's having a ridiculously good time. Sadly enough it seems to have been accentuated by the appearance of Mehtloafio. There are pink rose petals stuck to her hair.

"….I'm still gonna kill him though. He's not lucky enough to have the same predilictions to survival as you do."

While she explains the story, Peter shakes his head— well— nods first to show he remembers then shakes his head. What is his brother, ten? Then again— he's glad to see his funnier side sometimes too, but this might be a bit much! Damn pranksters. And with a prankster for a …maybe-girlfriend… he's sure it won't end anytime soon. But… her explaination reminds him of his plan. Though before he does that… he has to take a butterknife and mess up the linked female symbols… and the last name too as a second though. Sure, it would be cute— but embarassing— if it'd been Elena and Peter Petrelli— but with using her last name it's… more insulting than cute.

But— they have cake.

And while he waits for her to see if she'll eat it, his hands go under the table for a while. And when they raise up, he's holding a red bag, with black trim, and white tissue paper. That he definitely wasn't carrying when they borded the ship, but it's RIGHT in his weight and size limit, luckily… so… "I— got you something. Figure I should give it to you before we reach the Statue of Liberty and my brother does something else to embarass us."

Thankfully they didn't, because Elena would've been more horrified and scared than horrified and laughing if it had been Peter and Elena Petrelli. She's just getting used to seeing somebody, to imply marriage when she's not even his girlfriend? She'd throw herself off the boat, swim to shore, drop by the mansion and strangle Nathan with one of his ties. And she'd do it too. Until George and his security detail pried her away, of course, but still.

But they do have cake! And out of spite, she's going to EAT IT. ….though she's a little worried about the cake being booby trapped with laxatives. She eyes it warily, but after a taste of the frosting, she decides it's okay. Besides. Food shouldn't go to waste. Some childhood lessons just stay with you.

When he sets the gift bag in front of her, she blinks. The bag doesn't look big enough to hold a music box… "Peter," she says with a laugh, shaking her head. What did she tell him about getting her things?? He doesn't have to do it all the time. He doesn't, but…if she gets too spoiled on this, she might appreciate the gestures less, and that's not something she wants to do. But the size though… curiosity gets the better of her. "We should try and get your brother back," she tells him with a small smile. "Seriously. Though it's almost going to be a challenge to top this stunt off…"

She pulls out the box, and she blinks. At least it's too big to be a ring. Otherwise she'll see that cake as a sign. Rubbing her fingertips over it, she opens it slowly, as if afraid she'll break whatever's inside. Thankfully it didn't have diamonds of any kind, but she does look up at him, surprised. "Peter…"

No diamonds— certainly not, but it goes with the silver and red color theme that she'd told him about that day he brought her a bracelet made of balloons. A lot has happened between them since that day— and he still remembers her three favorite colors. Peter'd even done his best to make things as perfect as possible— the tissue would have been silver, but he couldn't find any. White would have to do in the end… "I know— you're not that fond of being dotted over and… new presents and all that. It's just— I've never given you anything to put in those jewelry boxes I keep giving you and… it's…" Okay, he's getting nervous and less confident again.

There's a slow inhale, a little shaky, but when it's done he looks into her eyes again and says plainly, "I wanted this night be special, because I would like you to be my girlfriend." There. He said it. The confidence falters again, he looks towards the bracelet, which has a vague stingray design to it, with the tail wrapping around all the way, even with the open cuff breaking it's movement. The red working isn't even stone… it's something else all together— softer— maybe a kind of leather, possibly even synthetic. It'd be a lot cheaper if it were—

"Not just— someone I'm dating, but… someone I'm with." Is this too soon? Is she going to tell him no? Would he really blame her if she did? She's going to accuse him of bribing her again, though, isn't she?

"It's not like I'm not fond of being doted over," Elena says simply. "It's nice to be taken care of once in a while… I just…" She looks up and gives him a small grin. "I just don't want you to break the bank while doing it. I know you come from a rich family but I also know you try to disconnect yourself a bit away from them financially. The last thing I want is for me to be the cause of….you know. The reversal of that." Besides, he knows it's the little things that make her happy. But in the giddiness and the excitement of the evening, the growing realization that he might have something important to tell her is there.

Oh my god. When he gets to the part when he wanted the night to be special, she freezes. There's a deer in the headlights look on her face as he keeps going. Because all she could remember is Lachlan. Lachlan and his diagrams. Lachlan and his pen. Lachlan and his pen pointing at the diagram going…

Oh god.

Was he going to ask her to do that?? She's SO NOT READY FOR THAT.

"Peter, I— " She chokes. She's already trying desperately to phrase her refusal. ……….and then, he completes the sentence. She stares at him. She stares at him for a long moment.


He just asked her to be his girlfriend, not…

The reaction he gets might be unexpected. She sags on her chair in relief. There's a bit of unhinged laughter escaping her mouth as she buries her face in one hand.

"Oh thank GOD. I…I….I thought you were going to ask me something else! It….nevermind, it's not important, just…" OH THANK GOD. Normally this would be extremely scary to her, but compared to what LACHLAN WAS SAYING the other day, this was a walk in the park!

"…after this I'm probably going to stick to notes and cheap dates for a while," Peter admits unfortunately, grimacing a little at how close she's right to him breaking the bank. Unfortunately, with all his absenses and not working — between being a Company Detainee to being lost in the future — he has begun to depend on his family money again— more than he would like. But everything he's spent on her has come from his own money so far. That's important to him. It's his apartment that they've been handling— he'll find a way to pay it back when he's not busy saving the world…

But let's make one thing clear here…

If he was going to be asking for that he wouldn't do it here over dinner that's for sure. Let's just clear that up right there. And— he's probably not the type to ask for it anyway. Asking implies pressure, and that's the last thing he wants to pressure out of someone. He's a little worried when she looks so terrified, which is probably why he looks down when he explains the rest, stumbling over his words. She's going to tell him no. It was too soon. He should have waited longer— more dates might have been necessary.

There's even a hint of his shoulders lowering until she sags in her chair and starts to laugh. Then his eyes glance back up, blinking. Why is she laughing at him? This— is kind of important… but then she looks relieved, and is actually saying praises to the Lord and… what? "…What?" he doesn't understand, but she said nevermind— and… "…is… that a no?" Cause he's honestly not sure what her answer is based on that.

"No it's just….I stopped by Lachlan's place to give him something to give to Cass, the binder I made for those paper research files you brought back from….you know," Elena says, gesturing vaguely, but she's still a little red in the face, mirth and no small measure of relief present there. "And he mentioned he went to the jewelry store with you to get a decent engagement ring for Cass. He mentioned that you told him that this was our third date and…" She probably doesn't have to continue, does she? Peter can probably TELL by the look on her face as to what happened next. She thought he said something to Lachlan that prompted the discussion! It was just…

"Anyways, like I said," she says with a smile, glancing down at her half-finished virgin mai tai. "It's not important." Her fingertips trace absent patterns over the unique design of the bracelet he had given her. It didn't clasp, and it just slipped on, built with her favorite colors. She honestly can't believe she remembered them really. That conversation had been made in passing, and a long time ago. Months ago.

She looks up, and her smile turns softer. "So…in other words, you arranged all this, got me this, braved your brother's insanity and my romantic neuroticness and will willingly subject yourself to my father's incessant paranoia over the state of my chastity…..just to ask me that?" She nibbles softly on her bottom lip. Her eyes wander to the table. It was her turn to be embarassed.

"Peter I….I've cared about you for months. I just never thought you'd….love me the way you do. Ever. I mean, how could I expect something like that, right? I'm almost too young for you, some say I am too young for you. I'm busy with work, school, my family…I get into trouble constantly and…and…I don't really….articulate what I feel very well and I know I could be so incredibly frustrating over the things that mean a lot to you. And…and…I get really reckless and…sometimes I don't think about what I'm going to say before I say them and I…I tend to hog the pillows at night and I tend to talk a lot when I'm nervous and I crack jokes that might not even be funny when I'm nervous like I really really really am right now but…if you…"

She pauses, turning pinker by the minute.

"…if you…don't….mind…all of that then…yeah. I'll be…your girlfriend."

"Oh." Yeah. Peter gets the picture. Thank you a lot, Lachlan, for mortifying his girlfriend before she even became his girlfriend. "I think Lachlan's style of dating is a bit different from mine…" That sort of thing— whatever sort of thing it was— isn't what he expects to be getting tonight, or any night anytime soon. Not because he fears her father's wrath, but because he wants it to happen when they both want it to happen.

Anyway— as she start's rambling, there's a moment where he's just staring at her.

Forget about the cake for a minute. Forget about the accordion players who are probably still watching somewhere. Forget about the high society people who are probably still looking at them and whispering. Peter's paying all kinds of attention to what she's saying, just as he had all those months ago when he asked her (in what she thought was passing) what her favorite colors were. The sheer fact her remembers what hers are, but couldn't recall Desiree's if she asked, should be enough clue that he was really fishing for her favorite color for a reason. It's the same reason he asked Lachlan what Cass' favorite color was when they bought the ring. Diamonds are staple, but colored engagement rings tend to be far more personalized— and he knew that's what the man really wanted, a personal ring.

That isn't made from potatoes.

Anyway, when she gets through her whole ramble and says yes, he puts his napkin aside and stands up from the chair, moving around the dessert cart with that deployable cake, and he holds out his hands towards her. There's music in the background (not accordions, thankfully) and there are people dancing on the wooden dance floor. They haven't ate their cake yet, but this is one of those times when he doesn't really care about food. It won't melt or anything, and he doubts their waiter would just wheel it away.

"Elena…" He's going to ask her to dance with him. That was the plan, but then all of a sudden he's leaning down, hands moving towards her face instead of her hands, and he's kissing her.

They can whisper all they want, he's not even paying attention.

…he was going to ask her something, right? Oh yeah. There's a break against her lips, and he finally whispers out his question, "Dance with me?" He'll try not to step on her toes.

Well, whoever thought he was just schmoozing to get her father to contribute to his brother's campaign would be in for a disappointment. Maybe. Now Peter Petrelli must be trying to seduce Ramon Gomez's daughter to secure a more permanent stream of funds to his campaign. Because that's how politics works and everyone knows Nathan Petrelli is a shark who'd pimp his own brother out to win. Or something. If you believe Republican propaganda.

Elena's eyes shift a bit to the side. The sunset's pretty much gone now, sunk into the horizon through the dinner. She could see the lights of Liberty Island, though she hasn't seen the cityscape yet. She could hear her name, but she's almost afraid to look up, because her face was once again flushed with color while she was rambling incoherently and not able to look him in the eye. When his shadow looms over her though, that's when she realizes he actually stood up, and she looks up.

Only for his hands to cup her face and kiss her in front of God and everyone who's still gawking at them from the Mehtloafio spectacle earlier. THANKS NATHAN.

Her hand lifts up slowly to touch his cheek lightly with just her fingertips, but when he pulls away, and asks what he does, she could only nod. Whenever he offers a hand up, she'll take it. So they move to the dance floor, and she can't help but look around again now that it's taken up by merrymakers who have better things to do than stare at a young couple trying to mind their own beeswax despite everything. She clears her throat. "…so….ah….how long has it been since you actually…?" She gestures to the side, and she rests one hand on his shoulder, the one that's not already held by his other hand. Baby steps.

"Two years from now," Peter answers a little mockingly— it's the truth, though. "I danced a bit at the double wedding reception. Not well, but… I did dance." With Cass, and Trina, and McAlister, and her… Some of it had been slow songs, too, but most had been the more fun variety of songs. Sure, the kissing definitely put things up a notch in the eyes of those who would be gossipers, but he's not going to care too much. This date isn't about them or their expectations, it's about her and him— and she said she'd be his girlfriend. And that's more than enough for him.

"Before that— it'd probably been about… a year. I danced with mom and Heidi at my graduation party— when I passed my nursing exam." That also doesn't really count, it'd been family, and it'd been in the safety of his own apartment— which honestly isn't that big.

But… He glances down at her and arranges his arms, putting one on her waist, while she holds the other. He's definitely not sure what he's doing, but moving around casually isn't that difficult! It's outright easy.

"Just so you know… all those things you think would discourage me from asking you to be my girlfriend… those are some of the many reasons I love you." He'd wanted to say it before, but now he knows she's listening— so he'll say it now. "I like it when you ramble."

"…there was a double wedding in the future?" Peter hadn't really told her that part. She looks at him curiously. "That sounds like quite the story," Elena murmurs, now that his hand is at her waist. She glances down where it is, and she can't help but smile. "Here…" she says softly, withdrawing her hands gently so she takes one of his, and guides it so it rests on the middle of her shoulderblades instead of her waist. "Show you how it's done." She winks at him then. She nudges his elbow up higher, so when she puts her hand on her shoulder, the line of her arm is supported by his. "Closer." She takes one step forward, her other hand finding his, guiding to bend both at the elbows and held up. The position is basic, but she'll teach him how to move eventually.

Moving around casually isn't all that difficult but she's going to make him learn how to dance properly even if he kills her toes. But she's not going to do anything too complicated. Her fingers intertwine in his on the guiding hand. "You're the guy, the main aim is support." She winks. "I'll have to lean on you on occasion after all." In the dance, but he could take that as a metaphor if he wanted too.

When he tells her the last, she stares at him. "…even when I hog the pillows?" she teases. "Or when I get crazy reckless? You wouldn't be one to talk anyone at the last one." But the pillow hogging could be a big one! He might get annoyed with her stealing most of them at night while he's sleeping! When another set starts, she'll show him how, gradually. Sway first, a rocking, right-and-left movement - and then she'll teach him a couple of steps. Very simple stuff, but if he pays attention, he'll learn how to move her around no problem. He's the guy. He leads.

The wedding and the reception were amazing— even if he wore a dress for the first part. Peter may have mentioned that to Jack and Nathan — which probably didn't help the whole lesbian wedding thing — but he's not going to tell her that part. "It was nice— I might tell you about it sometime," he adds, but— he won't mention what happened afterwards.

Mmm. Note to self: Next time Jack and Trina get married, tell Jack to stay at his honeymoon until— ever. No going anywhere, especially not to play poker and get his leg shot off.

As they get closer, he watches her, tries to move with her, and for the first part she's practically leading him— at least in terms of he's following her visual lead more than he probably should. He misses her toes, and he offers support, but it takes him time before he's confident enough to direct her anywhere on the dance floor. He's learning— in a lot of ways— but it's not his strong-point.

"Even when you hog the pillows," he responds with a nervous smile, looking up to her eyes. "The reckless part I don't much care for, now that you mention it— but that's a flaw we share." So he can't really knock her for it. "we'll just have to keep each other in check sometimes." She can stave off some of his recklessness— he'll try to do the same for her. And occassionally they might be reckless together.

She's a pretty good teacher, though. At least he's not falling over his legs, or running her into other dancers. Yet.

"Might?" Elena laughs. "I tell you so many stories and you're going to hold out on me?" She'd elbow him, but they're dancing. Assaulting your partner no matter how lightly isn't exactly conducive to it. But she'll show him a few steps. He learns - but quickly, he might lack a bit of confidence but it didn't change the fact that his learning curve was pretty good. But she's able to relax once he gains it to direct her into the dance floor. "I'll show you how to dip at some point." She grins at him impishly. "…but we'll have to do that when it's less crowded." Because….well. He might dip her into things. And people. And that would be embarassing.

"Eyes on me," she coaxes. "And don't move until you feel it. Some of this is instinctive. Just do what feels right." Dancing has been in existence before the concept of choreography started, after all. She keeps a bit of a respectable distance, to minimize him stepping on her or running her into other dancers. But once he's more comfortable, she'll step closer until they're almost cheek to cheek the way it should.

"And yes, we do," she murmurs, he could hear laughter in her voice. "And you bet I will. You can be stubborn too, you know." The cruise ends at eleven - they've got a bit of time still. Just enough to be able to walk on deck and look at the cityscape at night, because she'd been looking forward to that all evening so she could take pictures. She sighs, in a contented fashion. At least it hadn't come to…what Lachlan had been saying. She doubted very much her ability to swim back to New York shore.

"So how long do you intend to keep me?" she asks with a grin. "Are you going to give me time to kill your brother?" She won't, really - hell she might not even make it back to the mansion tonight depending on where he intends to drop her off. Not like this was ending any time soon. She rests her cheek gently against his, taking a breath. "You smell good," is said very absently.

"It's a little hard to explain— there's a lot of background to it— I'll have to explain why all the guys were dressed up as nuns." Peter says, smiling a little. Okay, maybe he'll throw her a small bone to give her a hint of why the wedding might have been a little on the strange side. And there was fighting involved. "The reception was nice, though— once I got out of the habit." And he means that as a object, not something he needed to stop doing. Anyway…

Yes, eyes on her. His eyes snap up from their feet in surprise and then he nods. Technically they were still on her… just not on her eyes. Slow breath. What she's offering him could also be advice for things other than dancing, things she expressed concern about, but that isn't the problem right now… he's not expecting that to come from this.

"Then it's a deal— we keep each other out of trouble— while we recklessly try to save the world." Because he knows they'll both do that, whether they keep each other from going over the edge or not. They'll still give everything of the world needs them to. That's part of who they are.

"I was thinking we could go back to my place— just because… Snowy's there and… then I can cook you breakfast." Nothing expected besides the same thing they've done the last few nights they've spent together— but who knows. "We can get revenge together later— right now I— kind of want to concentrate on you." And he smells good? …Well that's a relief. It means she won't mind being close to him. He can't help it, though… he leans in and kisses her temple, closing his eyes for a moment. This brings them closer— he threatens to dance on her feet. But for the moment, at least— he's feeling it.

"………….nuns," Elena says slowly. A skeptical eye is turned to him, and then, resigned. "….it was Jack's idea, wasn't it?" Who ELSE would it be? It can't be Lachlan's, as willing as he is to go along with Jack's shenanigans, the big Scot pretty much keeps it straight and narrow. Jack though. This sounds like a Jack plan. Suddenly she doesn't want to know, but there's a smile on Peter's face so it can't be all bad. And she can't help but smile back.

She has no idea he could be taking what she's saying as advice for other things, but right now she's letting him do the leading. Before long maybe he'll be able to do this unconsciously without her even saying so. Like letting go of a kid on a bike as he pedals away. "Deal," she agrees, flashing him a quick smile. "You, me, and a small army of miscreants." Because half the people she hangs out with are insane. And her college crew is even crazier.

Her eyes close when she feels the kiss on her temple. The music slows down at least, so when the tempo slows, and all the other people dancing on the dance floor slow down along with it, he can at least avoid stepping on her feet. Her arms shift, to drape loosely around his shoulders. "At least I don't have to get up early in the morning…it's the weekend," she says with an absent smile. Though she'll have to study at some point, and then figure out when her group of friends can do all the touristy trap things for Ian and Monica…

It's hard to think about other things in this position though. She pulls away a bit so she could look at him and smile. "I know it's really not all your doing but this has honestly been the most interesting night I've had in a while," she murmurs.

"Half Jack's… half yours," Peter says with a hint of a tease. He knows he's giving her small crumbs when he could be giving her the whole thing— but then she wouldn't want him to explain when they go back to finish the rest of the cake! This way she's getting little spoilers— for when he tells her the whole story. Because it really is quite crazy, all in all.

Aww, she doesn't want to know? Really? That's fine too…

"Small army— why am I not surprised you're already gathering them." They'd had an army in the future. A whole flock of people who followed them. For all he knows, some of her college friends might have been part of it— it wouldn't surprise him if they were. He didn't meet anywhere near a fraction of them, he's sure…

"No— you can sleep in— I can even bring you breakfast in bed." He'd wanted to do that once, but she often crawled out of bed too fast for him. This time… this time he will prepare a tray for her and beat her to getting out of bed. Yes he will…

"…I was hoping it would be something besides interesting— but I'm glad Nathan's hijinks didn't turn it into a total disaster…" He was hoping for something like… wonderful… or nice… or… something. Interesting could go either way!

Oh she still wants to know! If it was Jack's idea it sounded insane, and insanity made very good stories. But when he teases that the plan had been half hers as well, she stares at him - and she laughs. "….really," Elena says with a half-groan, but also a smile. "Great. I guess my changes really were significant two years forward, huh?" And when he teases her about the small army, she can't help but laugh. "I don't know," she says simply. "I guess I just have a knack for finding them. People like us."

She lifts her brows a little bit at him. "….you know I don't want to accidentally spill something on your bed, right?" she says with an impish little smile. Breakfast in bed? "You've seen the way I eat." They talked about this, but the gesture is nice. She can't help but tease him. She would say something about how it sounded like a ploy to keep her sedated and content in bed, but the song ends.

She takes a step away from him, turning to the band and clapping along with the rest of the people on the floor.

"Not as much as you think," Peter says softly, though his eyes do slip away from hers now, for a moment. This topic is rather sensetive, even if he really wants to talk about it sometimes. Letting go isn't easy, after all. For either of them. "It was more the… world around you that change and you… adapted to survive." Grew stronger, harder, more distant in some ways— but she'd still been there— still did silly things, like Rickroll the parade. There'd been a lot of those moments— they'd been some of the most fun that he'd seen. They'd been youtube stars. Pity he only got to watch one or two of their videos before he left, and a shame that no one else will get to see them here. "Destiny seems to like you."

As if it had a choice in who it picks to do things— things do just seem to keep finding her, though. In one form or another.

"That's what a tray is for— you don't spill that often, and I can wash the sheets when you're done if you get crumbs on them." No harm done. He hasn't really seen her just knock over a whole glass and spill it across the room before— she just eats a lot when she wants to. She's usually fairly neat about it, especially now.

When they break to clap for the bands, he does as well, then reaches out to take her hand again. Not to try to dance, but to lead her back to the table. "Might as well enjoy that cake my brother sent us."

She watches him for a moment, his eyes slipping away. She nods a little bit, rubbing the back of neck. Elena had no idea how to take that to be honest. In many ways, Future Her had been responsible for pushing things here, made Peter realize he couldn't just sit on his butt about certain things. At the same time, she didn't know whether he loved the other her because she reminded him of something he could've had here, or because there was something about her that kicked his ass into declaring himself. It was odd, comparing herself to…herself. But stranger things have happened.

And things will continue to be stranger.

She laughs and nudges him a little bit about the breakfast tray thing. "I was teasing you," she tells him with a small smile. Because that's what she does. "I promise I'm really not the Tasmanian Devil when I eat."

She allows herself to be led back to the table, eyeing the cake. "Part of me is a little wary," she confesses. "I mean, what if they booby-trapped the cake? Would they booby-trap the cake? They'd totally booby-trap the cake, wouldn't they?"

It's a tough topic, really. Did he love that Elena because of how much she reminded him of this Elena— did the thought of losing her kick him in the pants, or did something about the older her do it on her own. Either way, it happened, and Peter's definitely acting more readily on certain things than he would have a month and a half ago.

"I know you're not. You're more of a chipmunk— when you really let yourself get into it, at least." That's meant as a compliment, not an insult, honestly. "I think it's really cute," he adds, just in case she gets the wrong idea of being called an animal of some kind.

When they reach the cake, he glances at it, raising an eyebrow, "It's a little smalle for anything to jump out of it— if you'd rather box it up and take it home to run it through a bunch of chemical tests— we could do that too." It's meant with humor, but he wouldn't put it past her to be able to do that.

"….I don't know…." she ribs, playing along. "Remember the last time I attempted a chemical experiment while you were around?" She grins at him cheekily. She can't help it. Getting kidnapped from class has to be one of the best stories she's ever accumulated in her young, short life.

She laughs and puffs her cheeks out at him as they walk, reaching out to hug his side as they do. "And you want to be my boyfriend? Why?" Elena exclaims dramatically in midst of a laugh. But they do eventually manage to get back to the table, her finger sneaking out to take a bit of the frosting in her fingertips and nibbles on it as she sits down. "Alright," she says, clapping her hands together and grinning at him once he's seated. "Story time. Jack and the nuns. Ready, go." She points towards him as if giving him a cue to talk to the camera, as if he were being broadcasted to a live studio audience.

While he's talking, because this is bound to be good, Elena reaches out to wheel the cart closer to them, and takes the cake knife so she can start cutting up some pieces to give to both him and herself. She peers at the inside. The frosting was white, but it's clearly chocolate with some sort of fruit filling. Raspberry? It looks like it. Classic combination, sweet and just a little bit tart.

"….well. I don't know about your brother's ties but he has excellent taste in cake."

"That was unintentional," Peter assures her, but he's definitely smiling, even more as she puffs up her cheeks and hugs to him, making sounds of dramatic mirth towards his desire to have her as a girlfriend despite that. Yes. He still wants to be her boyfriend. Him and about a half dozen other young men who know her in some way. He just happened to be the lucky one who got her to answer yes—

As they settle back into a seat, he watches her cut up the cake, knowing that he has to explain the situation with the Nun outfits or she will not let him eat a bite— and probably not go home with him. So he explains. The parade, the plan to blow up the statue and rescue a Priest — a Father she supposedly used to know, whose name he does not remember. The men, him, Lachlan, Jack and Eric infiltrated the busload of Nuns in order to take out the guards so they could completely hijack the bus— how they completed the mission, conducted the double wedding right there without any real plan to do so— and how Eric drove the bus right through the giant parade float of his brother the President— the music… all of it.

All this why he eats the cake that his brother picked out for their not-wedding.

"If anything it only demonstrated that you could fly by the seat of your pants at the very least," Elena says with a grin. "Improvisation can be fun." She toys with her fork a little bit, and takes a bite. That will…have to be rectified at some point. While she had told Eric and Jaden about her situation with Peter, Jaden was still sending her videos, and Eric…. she can't help but feel that same, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She'll have to tell him eventually. And she knows it's going to be painful.

But the story drives that out of her mind a little bit. Her eyes get rounder, and rounder, and rounder when Peter tells her about the crossdressing habit. The bus. The wild double wedding. And….when he gets to the part on the Saints rickrolling the entire city, she is laughing helplessly on her chair, trying to muffle the sounds with her napkin. It's doing murder on her lip gloss, but she doesn't care. And when Peter mentions that he snagged the paper mache statue's tie as a trophy, she loses it utterly.

Wiping tears from her eyes, she leans forward, still giggling against the napkin. "I kind of wish I went with you, if not just for that." She pauses. "….though I probably wouldn't have been able to handle all the…bad stuff." She looks up at him and smiles ruefully. "Bad stuff that isn't going to happen, by the way."

Inprovisation can be fun, yes. Peter proves it with his story about the terrorist double wedding. And to think, that'd just been the last of a group of fun operations that their team had participated in— some including him, most not. "You guys had your own youtube site," he adds, grinning lopsidedly. It's really a shame that he didn't watch more of this videos, just so he could describe them all. But the one he'd closely been involved with might be enough.

"I wouldn't wish the bad stuff upon anyone— I'm glad I went alone, more or less. I mean, Hiro was supposed to be there, but he could get back on his own." For a while, he hadn't even known for sure he could get back, things would have been worse if he'd had someone else to worry about too. And the bad stuff… it'd been pretty bad.

"And— Cass was right— I needed you here. To have someone to come back to." he adds on, finishing off the last fork full of his cake.

She bursts out laughing. "I can't believe it got so bad terrorists can become stars on Youtube. Then again…if Jack was leading us…our shenanigans probably would've been amazing." Though that does give her…hmmm. Maybe she should bite this idea off somehow for Prank Wars. Gears are already turning inside her head. Elena pushes her dessert plate away, resting her chin on one hand as she looks at the window. The Statue of Liberty is lit up - she can't see the city from here, but the view was certainly great in itself. She still can't believe she's here.

"You know I've only met him once. He was the one who told me we had to break you out. Jack had been involved since the beginning but ever since that day at the cafe…" She had told him about that story, how she met Jack, a long time ago. She looks over at Peter, and she can't help but smile a little bit. "He was the one who told me about the Foundation," she tells him. "But I mentioned that to you too, when we first met." Which feels like ages ago. Colder months.

When he mentions the last part, she blinks at him. Her smile takes on a more bashful cast, glancing down at the gift box with the bracelet and running her fingertips gently over the stingray design. "She told you about that?" she asks simply. "She told me that when we were all getting a little antsy about you being stuck where you were."

"Honestly I barely know him," Peter says, looking down at his empty fork for a time. First time he met the man, it was his future self. Second time he told him to kill him. Third time he'd just recently escaped. Fourth time… they went to the future together. And got seperated. Not the best track record for meetings, honestly. "We'd only met a few times… But he's a good man— I hope he made it back all right." He never did find out what the origami note he'd left actually said. "Was told about the Foundation," he agrees, remembering that as well. though he's not really sure what the point is with them, still. As far as he knows, they didn't have much going on in the future, but then he didn't see the name of the leader of Homeland Security, either…

There's a fond smile, and he glances away towards the statue, putting down his fork. It is a beautiful sight. The upper decks would have an even better view, but for now— they can remain seated. It's comfortable, and she doesn't need a jacket in here.

"It was mentioned, yeah." Though he doesn't want to bring up that she'd told him that— he'd just not quite responded to it at the time— it'd been a little more personal than he could go into before. But now that they're more than dating… "Sorry I worried you all. I really didn't expect to teleport back after the same amount of days I'd been gone almost."

"But you trust him," Elena says simply. That's enough for her. Some people would say Hiro's heroic complex was even greater than Peter's, and if she knew him better, she'd probably agree. But she watches him even as he looks down at his empty fork. She reaches out to gently touch his knuckles, and give him an encouraging smile. "If anything you've got the right friends, right? I think…if I had the power, I would've done the same." She wasn't above cheating. She's slowly coming to grips to that here, but in the future she embraced that aspect of her. It was a family trait.

The fond smile encourages her own, and she doesn't say anything for a while as they watch the view, the island drifting slowly past them when the boat gradually turns around to move back to the harbor. When he tells her of the last, she nods. "You did what you had to do," she tells him. "Promises to keep, miles to go before you sleep, right?" She grins at him then, quoting Frost. Watching the course of the boat as it moves, she stands up. "Let's go for a walk. I'm curious about the ship. I've never been on a yacht before."

She winks at him. "And I promise no Kate Winslet impressions on the prow."

"Yeah," Peter says softly, looking back up at her for a moment. The list of people he trusts might actually be pretty long, though there's a growing number of people being moved slowly over to another list, much shorter, of people he doesn't trust. The people who aren't on it might actually come as quite a surprise… but those who get moved there have to do something pretty bad to get that placement… Or be Company.

"Yeah— miles to go… Fitting too. I barely slept any while I was there." Only times he did… well… she might have a good idea, since he'd been such a baby about wanting to spend the night with her when he got back. There's reasons he knew it would help him sleep… and now she knows them to.

There's a nod, and he follows her as she stands up. "I hope not. I know how that movie ends. Despite popular belief, I don't particularly like dying." Even if he seems to do it every month at least these days. Not pretty, for real. "If you get to cold, let me know." He has a jacket. Technically gentlemen are supposed to wear jackets at all times, but he hopes they'll let that slide for a time if the lady is chilly.

"You mentioned the nightmares, but…you never really told me what they were about. I mean, it's not like….I know we're on a date and everything but if you want to talk about it…" Before she was his girlfriend, Elena had been his best friend. She wonders if a girl can be both to one guy, but that didn't exactly get rid of the entire listening mode entirely. She has absolutely no idea he had been dreaming about his own death in the future. She wondered really where he got those prophetic dreams of his - maybe he absorbed it a long time ago, because none of their mutual acquaintances have that talent.

She moves with him, out the restaurant area and towards the upper deck. It was a little chilly, and the dancing has kicked up again in full swing, so most of the people are still inside. She passes by a couple trying to eat each other's faces off in one of the dark corners, but always a soul of discretion, she pretends she doesn't see them. The cold wasn't actually that bad. Summers in New York were hot and extremely humid, the cooling weather was a nice change. She doesn't seem to mind the little goosebumps coming up on bare skin as she walks to the end of the deck so she could take a picture of the cityscape at night.

"Well if you don't like it, stop doing it," Elena says with a quick grin, though it's a tempered one - she knows it isn't his fault. "I mean I know the concept of nine lives or a hundred applies to you but…you really need to be a little more careful." She leans back against the railing, looking at him. Her dark hair whips and tousles around her face at the breeze.

"They were just… bad dreams. Kind of like the dreams I had about the bomb, only— I couldn't really remember them too well. They seemed vague— shadowed. I just thought it was the world being the way it was, but now I wonder if…" Peter shakes his head, not wanting to dredge up those nightmares again, or his precieved source for them. He could be wrong, but it seemed too much of a coincidence when he learned what happened… "I think I was dreaming about what happened to me." What could still happen to him if he doesn't kill Sylar first this time. But he doesn't add that. The way her future self had talked about him when she thought he killed the man had been… horrifying. But he understood it. He's not sure he'd ever be the same if he did do it— but he knows what would happen if he doesn't.

The couple is left to their making out, as he steps over to the edge, looking down towards the water— out towards the Statue and the cityscape both. Beautiful— the breeze from the movement of the boat isn't helping keep them warm, but he does have the advantage of more layers of clothing— where as she happens to have a draft. The one thing he realized when he wore that habit. They were drafty, even with something on under it. He can't imagine how Jack did it.

"I don't go out and do it on purpose," he says, defending his recent deaths. "It just seems to keep happening to me…" He'll never quite wish for it, but he doubts it will ever stop happening. He died twice in the future— once since he got back— which he still hasn't told her about.

The jPhone is out, Elena taking a couple of shots of the cityscape and lowering the phone after. Her arms fold on the railing, her head tilted to the side so she could look at him. "What happened to you when you jumped forward two years, or what happened to you in that timeline? This is…ah….kind of why I wanted to run into Hiro again, actually." She toys with the phone in her hand absently. She has no pockets in her dress after all. "I don't know what happens if….I want to know how it works. About how what he does there could affect what happens here. I honestly don't think time is as linear as people say it is."

She smiles, watching his profile as the wind ruffles through his hair. He had combed it neatly earlier, but now that it was longer and now that the breeze was sifting through it, it was somewhat tousled now - she kind of liked it that way, even if she couldn't articulate it very well. Her phone lifts upwards, taking a picture of him looking contemplative, staring out in the water. She cradles it back into her hands to look at the resulting image.

"I know you don't. Human beings are survivors by nature. Even those who want to….end it….tend to hesitate for a while. It's hardwired into our brains to keep living. The prospect of Death no matter if one has the power to come back from it can't be that savory."

"That timeline— I'm not too sure… Like I said, it was all pretty vague." Peter's not sure this is a topic for such a beautiful skyline— one that'd been ruined in the future. "Could just have been… everything that happened— my own mind trying to come up with what it would have been like." Doesn't have to be power related. A coping mechanism. They happen to normal people all the time. But… there's a long pause when she mentions asking Hiro about the way time works, linear— how one change will affect that timeline. He's not even sure that his fellow time traveller knows. There's so many possibilities. But… "I don't think I want to know," he suddenly says. "About some of it, at least." If he's told that they all just disappear as if they never existed when he changed things… he's not sure he could live with that.

It'd be like destroying an entire world. Even if he'd been the only one who knew that world existed at all.

There's just some things he's better off remaining naive about. That's one of them. He'd like to believe they live on in their own timeline— seperate from their own— like some kind of alternate universe. Because if none of it had been real…

He doesn't even notice that she took a picture of him, he's looking so serious. Serious and quiet. Only when she talks about survival does he glance over and nod slowly. It's weird. He'd accepted death to save the world— then found out he couldn't die. Death became kind of off-handed for him. Maybe the part of him that had survival instincts knew he couldn't actually die, so stopped operating as normal.

And now he found out he really can die. And has a good idea of how.

"Mmm." The tone is absent. Elena closes the phone and folds her arms on the railing, hunched over a bit with one heel braced under one of the lower rungs. "I do," she says simply. "But my reasons are selfish. Beyond my own curiosity anyway. I guess ….by asking maybe I could reassure myself that the future really isn't set in stone. Otherwise, what are we doing all this for?" She toys with the phone absently with her fingers. "Hope is a sparse commodity these days, now that the world becomes more and more apathetic every year." She keeps her eyes on the cityscape as they slowly drift past. It's beautiful, the night's almost at an end. Seeing New York at night the way it is, she couldn't really imagine it destroyed.

But that was something she had warned him about before, during the breakfast when he started to feel more for her. About how he ought to be careful about being so offhanded about it just because he could regenerate. She had told him it was easy to develop a martyr's complex with a power like that. He took it the wrong way, at first. But hopefully now he understands that.

She wondered if he could change that about himself. Dying for everyone else seemed like it was the easiest out, and Elena always took the hard way if the easy way meant sacrificing her principles.

She remains quiet for a while. Her hair blows around her face like a drifting curtain. Her hand comes up to shove her hair back from her face even though it doesn't really do much good at present.

"We already know that, Elena," Peter says, glancing out at the city, then nodding towards it. "You don't need Hiro to tell you it. The city wouldn't look like this if it were set in stone," he shakes his head a bit, not sure how else to prove that to her anymore. It hadn't been why he didn't want to know at all, honestly. He knows this will change things, because it already has. "And you wouldn't be here to watch it with me— you'd be at MIT." Which is where she's supposed to be, if the future were set into stone. "We're building our own future. And we're building it despite any plan that might have been put on paper before this moment. It's ours. And their future is theirs."

To him, that's what he's most worried about. Hearing that he destroyed them by meeting them. Fixing their world wouldn't save them— but things had been starting to get better. Maybe her and the other Eric could finally work things out and get together— maybe Cass and Lachlan's daughter grew up in a wonderful home in Scotland… So much that he'd like to believe happened. That he has to believe happened. Because he cares about those people as much as he cares about the ones here.

Dying isn't an easy out when one doesn't really die, though— in some ways it's even more painful. And in his opinion, it's still better than them dying. So maybe he hasn't gotten over it yet.

"We'll change things more than we have already. I promise you." If he could stop from blowing up the city, then they can save it again.

"No we don't," Elena tells him. She's not being defeatist - she's being realistic. There's no way of knowing. Things could still reset, and the possibility is still there no matter how some things have already changed. And the possibility remains because they don't know how this works. Perhaps they'll never know, but she can't help but worry about it. But she's like that, she's a worrier, and the more scientific side of her isn't willing to leave things up to chance, or form conclusions based on circumstantial evidence. Some things might have changed, but the foundations are still there. Cass and Lachlan are engaged. Nathan's still running for senate. Breeding programs exist.

When he points out he's watching the cityscape with her right now, and she wouldn't be if she were at MIT, she can't help a quick laugh. "Just because I'm here doesn't mean that things will change automatically, Peter," she tells him with a smile. "We don't know how this works, remember? I don't know. I guess in the end I'm just looking at the ultimate outcome. Still, doesn't mean we can't enjoy some of the changes. At least Cass isn't stuck with a potato ring."

Perhaps, perhaps not. Her future self had taken great lengths to ensure he'd want to live, at the very least. She'd kick his ass if he backed out of that now.

"Yeah. I can believe it," she says. The somber conversation doesn't seem to dampen her spirits any at the very least. She pushes away from the railing, and stretches her arms over her head.

But they're not leaving it up to chance. Isn't that the whole point? Peter doesn't really want to argue with her, but he also doesn't particularly like that she's making it sound like they can't do anything. Why did he go there in the first place if they can't change things? "Stop the storms and everything changes. We'll figure it out," he says, shaking his head. He's already got enough issues with confidence, that this one thing he's grasping on for the sheer fact that he has to is about the only thing he has left. He's stubborn like that. "And I didn't mean this whole thing, Elena. I meant… the last time."

He glances towards the skyline again, frowning. "We know it's not set in stone because all these problems are different— different enough. Maybe we're just going to make new problems that we'll have to fix later too, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try, if we don't try, then… then we're not doing anything. It really is written in stone then. That makes it worth it." Even if she's making the changes so far seem small in comparison, some of them mean a great deal to him already.

While her spirits haven't really been sombered, his has, but that's just because he's always been that way. This conversation, the subject, is taxing for him, emotionally, confidence-wise. And he's not quite sure how to deal with it, or if he's even dealing with it correctly. They'll fix it, though, or he'll spend the rest of his life trying to. Becuase he promised. And he can be stubborn about some things. It's the moment he gives up trying that people'd really need to look out for.

There's a pause, he glances towards her again. "We should try to find someone to take our picture. I don't think we have a actual picture together."

It would be cruel to argue the night they actually make things square and concrete between them. Not like they can't do anything about it, as she had explained to him before, Elena wanted to find out how it works so she could be assured things aren't linerar. Because what do they know? Compared to Peter and Hiro, really, her own abilities are inconsequential. They affected people. Living things. It didn't really turn her into the most powerful person in the world, or give her the ability to bend time and space like a god. If she knew Hiro better, she'd be relieved as to how seriously he takes the entire 'with great power comes great responsibility' addage.

"I suppose problems aren't really going away," she says, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning her hip against the railing. She doesn't know how Manny would react. She doesn't know how Jane will react considering she's Elle's roommate. And Eric….that one in particular she was dreading, but she was going to have to brave it. She doesn't mention it, and she probably never will no matter how much it'll hurt later. She never relished the idea of inflicting heartache on anyone.

When he suggests that they find someone to take their picture, she blinks at him. "Well the only people outside with us are…." She looks at the dark corner and groans. No. Way. She does find one of the busboys though, wheeling a cart back towards the restaurant area. "I'll be back," she tells him, spinning around, her skirt drifting around at the gesture as she trots over towards the busboy, who looks surprised to see the young woman come up to him with a smiling-pleading look on her face.

The 'pretty please' expression does its work. Most of her male acquaintances were powerless against it (probably because she'll make them see pink elephants or something).

"Found a victim!" she says with a smile. "Joe, Peter. Peter, Joe."

The busboy looks a little dazed. How did he get here? "Nice…to…meet you?" He takes the camera haplessly as Elena grins at him.

Any ability, if used in the wrong way, could be potentially destructive. Time travel might have enough possible bad outcomes that it'd be difficult to abuse in a way that would completely destroy the space-time continum. Most bad guys want to live to rule the world after all, right? Why would they want to do that? Only the truly insane people would need to be worried about— the ones who don't care what happens, who don't want to rule. But— we'll just hope those people got a different set of abilities to abuse— because they do likely exist.

"No— there'll always be new ones. We wouldn't know what to do with ourselves if we didn't have something to fix." The two of them especially— they'll never be able to stop and settle down as long as there's something that they feel strongly about. She proved it in the future— he's proving it in his own ways. The only time he decided to hide from the world— it was because he thought it would fix things. Didn't turn out to be that way.

Unknowing of her impending heartache, or the fact she has no intention of telling him of it— which won't please him if he finds out later, surely, he watches as she scurries off to find somewhat. The poor man she returns with gets a sheepish smile, and he nods. "Thank you, Joe."

Sticking his hand into his pocket, he Jacks a little money he knows is on his dresser, because he tipped the not Meatloaf earlier. A couple dollars should be more than enough for this service. But he'll wait til the pictuer is done. Moving closer, he puts an arm around her, and holds her close. Pictures mean a lot to him.

She laughs at the quip. Even if he didn't mean it as one, because it's true, but that doesn't mean she can't find humor in the truth. Elena grins over at him. "God, I know," she teases. "We'd be so bored if we didn't have to fix anything." If anything that just proved they were both goal oriented people. She wouldn't know what to do with herself if she retired. There was no settling down for her in the future, perhaps, but life was much more interesting if you've got something to do.

"You're welcome," Joe says, blinking when he's handed the phone. "Oh, hey! These are the new jPhones, right? How do they work?"

"Like magic," Elena says with a grin. Then again, she's a little biased. Gene probably designed half the components that went into the thing.

There's a pause. "……….oh I remember you two. Back inside. The newlyweds, right?" Joe says, grinning at them as he takes several steps back so he can get them both in the viewer.

"……uh, no," Elena says, and she can't help but palm her face. "Practical joke. Come on man, if I was gonna have Meatloaf in anything wedding related I'd want the real thing." Not like she would, but come on!

Joe grins. "If you say so. Uh. Say cheese?" He lifts up the camera.

She hams it up a bit when Peter puts an arm around her. Both her arms come up to hug him by the side, tilting her face up to kiss him on the cheek….and even bends a leg by the knee to bring one foot up. She'll insist on them taking another one though - a more serious, dignified one. Though one day her aim is to get someone snag a candid shot of them when she descends on him from above like a ninja. Or something. Koala him on his back and get the expression on his face preserved forever.

Newlyweds? Peter can't help but smile a bit, but he does deny it as well, with a shake of his head, "We just started dating— my brother has a weird sense of humor." It's easier to blame on a brother of some kind. A lot of people have one, ones that don't know someone who did. Sometimes they're brats, sometimes they're not. But there's usually one brother who picks on a sibling in most groups. And this one is all his brother's fault… Well. And Elena's too. For continuing the cycle. The longer it goes on, the worse it will get— but he can't really find the strength to discourage her from her revenge.

He's about to say cheese, when she suddenly surprises him by hamming it up. The raised eyebrows and startled look will show up on the picture, and a moment later he reaches to do something else entirely— something that may ruin picture number two…

He lowers his arm to wrap around her waist… and tickles her under the ribs. Surprise.

"Bratty older brother? Yeah, I hear ya," Joe says, clicking on the ham picture with a smile. "Hey….you look familiar though, dude. We know each other?" Peter had been in the papers before, but a while back. He shrugs. Maybe he just has one of those faces.

OH. He was going to PLAY THAT GAME.

There's a sudden shriek. There was a reason Elena desperately tried to get away from him when he threatened to tickle her, and this is why. Her face is a little pink, but she's laughing. "Aie! Get off! Get off!" she cries, squirming to try and get away from him, only she can't - as compact as he was, he was a lot stronger than she was. "You cheater!" Pot calling the kettle black in that one, but she's laughing at least,

She reaches over to try and tickle him back. Of course, trying to get away from him while attacking twists her body in odd and confusing ways. It's so confused, what's she trying to do again? Either way that was probably one of the best, and worst spots to tickle her in - he just happens to find the first one.

Of course, Joe's grinning like a moron. He's just taking candid shots now. Elena's face when she was being tickled the first time is priceless, with her eyes wide and her mouth open and her body jerked forward while Peter tries to look serious in the background.

It's lucky that once the wanted result is had, Peter just tries to restrain her by wrapping his arms around her, over her arms if he can, and holding her mostly in front of him, "Okay, okay, I'm done— I just had to see what would happen. Forgive me, sunshine." Come on, it was probably outright adorable. And he's smiling now. He'd gotten so somber during their conversation that he really looked far too serious for his own good. It's better this way.

But she does get a few ticklish spots while he attempts to restrain her, especially since he's no longer giving her reason to fend him off. He's trying his best not to squirm, but she can tell that she's getting him from the way he's breathing, and the small sounds he makes when she digs her fingers in the right area. It looks as if he's a little ticklish too.

But— Joe asked if he recognized him. He glances over her shoulder and says, "Maybe— My name's Peter Petrelli." Brother running for Congress— now Senate, and all. And apparently a possible Senator who can be a mean older brother at the same time.

"No mercy!" is what he gets. But Elena's laughing, restrained and grinning when he's got his arms wrapped around her to restrain her and shifting her right in front of him. There's another snap of the jPhone. And yes, it was probably outright adorable, wait till they see their faces in the string of pictures Joe took though. Her hands are right in front of her now at least. But at least they've both got smiles on their faces despite shenanigans. If Joe was a professional photographer, he'd be rolling his eyes skyward praying for patience. Right now though he seems rather content playing around with a jPhone.

"Oh….yeah, yeah. You look like your brother." Joe, while young, seems to read the papers. At least there's some hope for the future generations since the busboy doesn't look older than eighteen. But Peter and Nathan do look alike. "Alright, you better take this back before I run away with it." He hands it back to Elena.

"Thanks a lot," she calls, even as the busboy waves and wheels the cart back into the restaurant. He's got work to do after all.

She flips through the pictures, and she laughs. "I'll send you copies. …..oh my god is that my face? That can't be my face it looks so ridiculous."

"We do a bit— yeah. Even if he can be a jerk to me, no reason not to vote for him… least you know he's got a sense of humor," Peter says softly, even though his brother as President might have been fail for the future— it wasn't his brother's fault anymore that it's Niki's fault for what Jessica does— all he has to do is make sure it doesn't happen that way. Save Monty and Heidi, don't marry Mara— don't die— all that should stave off Logan, as far as he knows. Right? He certainly hopes so, no matter what the man tried to tell him.

"Thank you," he adds, handing over a five dollar tip to the teenager for the additional work, before he moves to glance at the pictures, letting her control it. "You don't look ridiculous. You look… real." And that's important to him. Not fake, not forced— she's completely her.

"Do you want to go dance somemore?" he asks, nodding towards the inside of the boat. Otherwise, "Or we can stay here— watch the cityscape…" Just the two of them. Rather romantic, like looking at the stars, really. But there's not much else he has planned… until they reach his apartment. And even then his idea of after-date time isn't as bad as Lachlan might have suggested.

"I think if I started faking things in the first night of….our new status, we wouldn't last a week," Elena says with a wicked grin at his direction. But she wasn't the type. She tried to be as honest as possible whenever she can. But she does take his hand, and tug him towards the railing. "What about half and half?" she says, checking her watch. "We have about an hour. We can split it here and inside," she suggests. "Besides….having a jacket doesn't seem to be any problem. You're keeping me warm." And he is, by virtue of his having his arms around her for a while. And the tickling, which zapped some nerve endings awake.

And half an hour of dancing. She's sparing him the full hour. She grins over at him. "Granted this isn't exactly the crowd I'm used to." She looks over her shoulder towards the restaurant. "It's pretty relaxed, sedate….my dance venues tend to be a little more intense. Even the latin dance ones." Though watching the latter might make him jealous considering her culture's dances aren't necessarily shy towards another partner. But it's just performing! It's nothing like that.

But once they've had their fill of the cityscape, they'll go back in and dance a few rounds. The last hour is dwindling down, and she does her best to make him forget about his almost single-minded mission to save everyone. Hopefully she's succeeding a little bit. The bar is calling out their version of a last call - even if New York as a city doesn't really call last call until the very wee hours of the morning. It looks like, however, that the young woman is having a blast up until the moment the ship docks and the passengers disembark.

Holding onto her while they look out at the cityscape helps keep his mind off of anything else. Sure, Peter doesn't pull her towards the shadows to make like other people on the top deck who try to inhale the other's face, but he does keep hold of her, kisses her neck and ear occassionally, and looks off at the sky. The time of year means there's a lot of things to see that might not otherwise be there— and they're all nice. He enjoys every minute of that time left up there. It helps they're not talking about serious topics anymore.

When they return to the dancing, the dancing preoccupies him for quite some time, keeping his mind off of things. This time, he very nearly did step on her toes a few times— for which he apologized embarassedly for— and almost ran them into another couple once too. Again, he apologized for it. No fault of her own on these— she actually saved him from running into them— and more. Maybe he's getting tired. Or maybe he's just not a dancer still.

But he's smiling again by the end of the night, holding her, kissing her cheek and temple… and then finally leading her down to the driver once the yacht forces the passangers to leave. "My apartment," is what he tells the driver, who probably smiles knowingly. Yeah— going to his apartment. Good date for your Mr. Petrelli, huh?

"Did you have fun?" He probably asked it before, but it's a good thing to ask again.

He managed to keep her warm despite a lack of a jacket, Elena having returned a few kisses here and there, but mostly she talked. Because she was a chatty person. She gradually catches him up with what's happened over the month he's been gone, how the move went, how living with Heidi and the kids were like at first. She laughs once or twice, when he accidentally tickles her while kissing her neck, which of course prompts her to wiggle her fingers against his side. The dancing, she managed to help him avoid accidents, but she isn't discouraged. He'll learn. He'll get better. She's sure of it, damn it.

There were always going to be serious undertones to their relationship - but it can't be helped. For the most part, Peter was a serious person. Elena….isn't too much of one, unless they talked about the future. But by the end of the night, those discussions have been driven right of her mind as they head down to meet the driver. "It was nice of your brother to loan the car to you," she tells him. "Then again….he probably needed to in order to ensure we got his present," she says. Still gonna kill him. She doesn't know how, but she will.

THANKFULLY, she misses the knowing smile. But when he asks if she had fun, she laughs, pulling her legs up on the seat and leaning against his shoulder. The bracelet's on her other wrist now, though she kept the box. "I had a blast," she tells him honestly. "I've never done anything like this before. The food was great, and the view was spectacular. And I've got pictures." She beams. "I'm very clam-like at the moment." As in, happy as a clam. She never really understood the expression, clams didn't really have faces to determine their state of contentment.

All-in-all, this clam moment cost him about half a paycheck— but he's not about to tell her that. Peter's well aware that he spent more than necessary, and he doesn't need her to remind him of it. As he'd told her earlier— she shouldn't be surprised if their next date is a ten dollar teenager-date— like mini-gulf. Or now he's even thinking of just inviting her over to sit on the roof of his building with a blanket and something warm to drink in a thermos. It'd be simple, and sweet, and private— and mostly free. Which is what he's gonna need to stick to for a while. But… he's glad to indulge her like this just once, for the important date.

Even if his brother made a valiant effort to humiliate them in public.

"I'm glad," he says, leaning in to kiss her temple as the driver takes them to his apartment. "They usually answer me if I call, unless Nathan's put them on standby— he's got more than one driver." And they're paid the same amount whether they're driving Nathan, Heidi, or even Angela. And it also includes him. It's their job. Though they didn't get George this time around.

When they reach the apartment, once again he tries to move around to open the door for her, though if she's not in shock this time she may beat him to it. Seems he's pretty happy too, after hearing how much she enjoyed the evening— despite difficulties.

She'd actually be very happy with cheap teenager dates, or just up the rooftop sharing a thermos. Elena wasn't the sort of person who insisted on big gestures. She preferred the little ones. But he already knew this, and hopefully he'd remember it and not feel bad. Besides, there's also the option of letting her pay for some of these outings on occasion. She wasn't above doing something nice for him either - even if he feels like he should pay for everything because he's the guy. But it's not like she can't afford it now.

She smiles when he opens the car door for her. It makes him happy, so she lets him do it, and she stands up, walking with him back towards his apartment. Upon reaching the fourteenth floor, her eyes fall on the apartment across from him. "I didn't know it was a two bedroom when we visited it the other day," she says, reminded, leaning against the wall as she waits for him to unlock the door. "I think I can convince Nadia to move in with me though. She'd probably be a blast to live with." Oh god. Nadia. Living across from Peter.

If she moves forward with this plan, his life is about to get a little more colorful.

Whenever the door opens, she steps inside, walking over to set the gift bag he'd given her, with the box inside still, carefully on the counter. She also crouches down to pet Snowy, who greets them enthusiastically. "…I can't believe I was on a boat just now," she says with a laugh. She still can't believe it. She's never been a passenger in a yacht before.

One would say she enjoyed the evening including the difficulties. Sure, Mehtloafio was embarassing, but it was like being heckled after making the mistake of sitting in the front row of a comedy club. You have a ridiculously good time anyway and you have a story to share with your friends in the next party.

"Oh, yeah— it's a little bigger— the ones on that side are," Peter comments, glancing at the even numbered door across the hall. Been vacant for a while now, honestly. Moving in after her, he checks his phone after a moment, notices he has voicemail message— he'd had it off all night because of the date— but he doesn't check it just yet. Because… he's distracted. Turning his phone back off, he sets it down on the desk, sheds his jacket and goes to make sure the dog has something to drink and eat— since she's been alone for a hours now.

Nadia, though? "Might be a good idea— it'd save you money on rent and you wouldn't be lonely…" But then he doesn't know if he could sleep over and hide little notes in her apartment and— other things. But living across the hall has the advantage of being able to see each other far more easily… And what little he knows of Nadia— she might actually encourage late night visits.

"They do those cruises every night pretty much— they're not that uncommon— we could get a whole group together sometime." There were parties of twenty on the boat they were on, business-related probably. But still, it costs less the more people you have. Once the bowl has dog food in it, the dog makes her way over, reacting well to the touching, but also wanting food at the same time. Omnomnomnom.

The place she's knelt down soon has him close by, reaching out to touch her back gently. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself… and I'm really glad you said yes. I— wasn't sure you would."

"It would," Elena says with a nod, standing up once Snowy's trotted over to the other side to get something to eat from the bowl. Folding her arms behind her back, she smiles over at him. "Besides, Nadia's been wanting to move out of her mother's house anyway, plus she always complains about how she doesn't see me anymore." Even if they see each other most of the week thanks to classes together. "I figured this would shut her up." The last is a laugh - she loves Nadia, really. Whatever she says, she says out of genuine affection. "Her dad can be a little scary though. I think he could be scarier than Papa. Then again the first time I met him, he was really mad she was in Jack's bar." Which probably didn't help with the scariness.

The only problem with having Nadia for a roommate, aside from something embarassing happening to her almost every day if she did….was Leo 'visiting'. He can tell by the look on her face probably even without reading her mind. Because Nadia is shameless. "I. Uh. If I pick her for a roommate there might be times where I'll be hiding in your apartment." She already has a key, but….yeah. Finals week? That's not gonna fly.

She grins. "Sounds like fun. Maybe…" She ponders, and she snaps her fingers. "I'll suggest it to Papa. Whenever…you know. He makes it official with Dezi, he can hold the announcement there. With his friends, family…" She looks a little resigned. "…but I'm not supposed to know I know…"

When he touches her back, she turns towards him and she smiles. "I know. To be honest, I….didn't know I would either. Could be too soon, you know? At the same time…" She pauses, and looks up to meet his eyes. "…honestly I think it was going to come to this point anyway…" she tells him softly.

Not only can fathers be very protective of their daughters, but Italian men in general can be rather protective of their women. Peter almost comments on this, but realizes it could get turned around on him, so decides the better of it. Yes, he can be protective of her too, there's no real question there. "Your father isn't as scary as he could be," he says, though also decides not to clarify. That rocket launcher named kitten, for example? Not to mention the part where he wasn't sure if her future father was going to just mind-rape everyone or not…

"You're welcome here anytime you need to— that's why you have a key." And yes, he gets the idea. The young woman seemed much more open in the direction of sexual activities than his new girlfriend could ever really be. Not that that's a bad thing— it just tends to be a little on the embarassing side. For those who aren't as open with it.

"Your dad honestly strikes me as a more at-home party guy. So I'd expect him to do it at their new house." Though would that mean he won't be invited still? Not just Juanita, but Manny as well… There's a long pause, and and he doesn't voice the concern. "I still have the painting— I even wrapped it. For when it's announced." It'll be a nice little gift, even if— you know— he can't really paint. They'll both know what it means.

It would come to this point anyway? "Yeah— probably— we're both a little stubborn. You more than me, but…" He had his heart set on her for a while now— before he left— and everything that happened just made him more stubborn about it. And reckless. Which is why he asked right now. His hand continues to slide up and down her back, along the line of her spine, and then— wait… "Did you still have clothes over here?"

"I know….well. I never ever get to see his scary side most of the time anyway," Elena murmurs. "Unless he's especially angry, and he only shows that to me rarely." The last time he did was when he had his first heart attack, and that was after he found out from Cass about what she did to try and help break Peter out of Kirby Plaza. Let's never speak of that again. "But he tends to tone it down when it's people he likes." Ramon surprisingly likes a lot of people - he's just not the type to show it. He likes Nathan just fine but called him gay the other day after all.

"I thought you only gave me the key so I would stop pulling a Batman on your balcony?" she teases. Granted she hadn't known then he had feelings for her. She'd been oblivious for most of the year, when in fact he confessed it started sometime in April. It was September now. It feels like a lifetime ago. But when he tells her he still has the painting, she smiles. "That's good," she says. "Dezi will love it, I think. She'll put it somewhere in the new house."

"But you're more reckless than me when it comes to…other…things…" she says. She wouldn't have kidnapped him out of class, for one. When he starts rubbing her back lightly however, her eyes close, relaxing. She smiles. "Mmhm," she murmurs. "I left my duffel bag here. I suppose I ought to change…I haven't had the chance to grab it."

There's a long pause. The scary side he saw in her father hadn't been here, so Peter can't quite comment on that. It's true he still has a small amount of terror involving the older man, but that has everything to do with the fact he's dating his daughter. And the man knows it. Not only that, if he ever read his mind at an unfortunate time— he might think more has happened than actually has. Because… to him it had happened. It's complicated.

Anyway… "That was the other reason, yeah— and you say I'm reckless— I never jumped off of a roof to try and get to you." But he would, actually. He most definitely would. The rubbing on her back continues, but then he leans in again… to kiss her neck. Right under the ear. It's not a chaste area to be kissing, that's for sure, and even if he's done it a few times tonight— there's something different. Perhaps because of where his hand is on her back. And that they're alone— More or less.

The kiss starts to trail towards her shoulder, but this is when he pauses, pressing his nose there, and breathing warm against her skin. "Elena…" There's a long break. Most likely he wants to voice something. His pulse has increased for the instant, body temperature up— blood pressure starting to rise— and then he says, "Yeah— you can… change. I need to too…" Except for the shed jacket, he's still fully dressed.

Everything tended to be a little more complex when it came to Elena. She could blame it on a lot of things, inexperience, youth, religion…but what it boils down to is the fact that the young woman can be difficult when she wants to be. She gets it from her father, it can't be helped, more had been passed down to her by her progenitor than just psychic abilities. Ramon in the future had pretty much removed the shackles from his daughter about that in terms of things she could do with a guy. In the present, not so much.

"But you would," Elena points out. "That and you wouldn't need to, Mr. I Can Walk Through Walls And Fly." She can't help but tease him, opening her eyes halfway so she could look at him as she smiles. But he pushes closer, leaning in to press his mouth somewhere under her ear. Her eyes drift close again, her head angling up a bit as her hand comes up to touch his cheek. But there was something different about this time. They weren't in a public place, and she could tell. It's slower. It lasts a little longer. She could feel little shivers travel down her spine.

When he stops near her shoulder and rests his head there, her arms have automatically curled around his shoulders. Whatever he was murmuring seems to have been forgotten. The young woman can't help but turn her head to nip delicately at the high arch of his ear. She's done that before a few times, whenever his head was near but not kissing her in the mouth. "Hm?" she murmurs absently, that hazy tone in her voice while feeling his lips brushing at her shoulder. "What?"

"More like fall through walls," Peter mutters absently, a response to her tease, but it doesn't even sound like he paid much attention to it. There's a distraction— and it just happens to her her skin right now. The way she smells. Though the choice of tops has a modest neckline, the spagetti straps actally work against him in this case. So much skin available on her shoulders. It's a miracle that he managed to stop when he did… his hand remains against her back, while the other dangles without use— until she speaks up.

It's the absent and hazy tone that makes him murmur a deepened, "Nevermind… Can wait…" And the hand trails up her arm, to touch the strap… and slide it down over the edge of her shoulder. More kissing, skirting lower than her shoulder, technically, moving along the edge of the modest neckline. The hand that moves her strap slides down her arm, towards her elbow… and then touches the waist— where her top meets her skirt. Hesitation, but he'd been there once before. There's been a young boy who burst in the door and stopped his hand that time.

Unless Heidi decides to bring the boys over for a midnight snack, that won't happen. The closest protest they might have, outside of their own, would be his dog— who doesn't really care. He doesn't even know what horror story Lachlan fed into her mind— but he bets it'd been worse than this.

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