2007-08-13: DF: Sentimental And Also Presumptuous


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Summary: Logan confronts Kate about the time where Nathan was in charge of his own actions again. She lies through her gappy teeth and reveals only half-truths.

Dark Future Date: August 13, 2009

Sentimental And Also Presumptuous

Fly By Night

Unbeknownst to Logan, this won't be the first time this week that a man identified to many as Nathan Petrelli has summoned someone to meet him in one of the many ruins of NYC. This one might be more ironic than he even knows, but that's hard to say. People that world closely with the President are torn between whether he's an excellent planner, or he works on whims and makes it up half the time. When it comes to Logan? That's fifty-fifty.

He walks along one still standing, if a little wrecked structure within the half-collapsed building. A bar of black metal and glass, almost as high as his chest, which he now turns to lean against as he waits. He has a coat thrown over otherwise formal daytime clothing, composed and apparently uninjured - save for one long scratch across his face, accompanied by fainter ones of the same nature.

Apprehension has settled in the form of a cold knot in the pit of Kate's stomach. This has always been a favourite haunt of hers and Nathan's - and it wasn't so terribly long since she was last here, ruined as it is. She's long since looted all the liquor that had somehow remained untouched. She's dressed in the black and white striped shirt she wore to her press conference, coupled with a black pencil skirt to give her a subdued sort of sophisticated look. A large pair of black sunglasses are perched on her head as she approaches the bar. "N…" She presses her lips together and really looks at the man standing there.

"Logan." The mask is put on and Kate plays the role of the stoic. "I have to admit, I'm almost surprised you would choose this place to meet. Feeling nostalgic?"

"Felt like taking you somewhere nice for a drink," Logan says, with ever-present dryness that translates between egos, taking his weight off the bar as she approaches, polished shoes making gravel shift and crack beneath foot as he paces a little. "But not everything goes unscathed, I guess. I'll have to nudge the right people to have this building rebuilt. What do you think, should it be just as it should have been? Or perhaps a complete overhaul?"

Kate's head tips upward as she regards the ruins of the second floor. "I like it just the way it is. Shattered and broken." Like the lives of the pair that used to frequent the cocktail lounge. Looking back with a casual sort of disdain, she turns her back to the bar, planting her palms flat on its surface and then boosting herself up to sit there. "What did you want to see me about, Mister President?" She crosses her legs at the ankles, quickly drawing attention to the fact that she still wore her combat boots and fishnets with her dressier attire.

Logan is happy to navigate the place as Kate makes her perch, as if exploring, although never far away, simply circling the immediate area, stepping over one of the fallen tables. "How long have you known about Sylar?" Where Nathan may have adopted the name 'Gray' as to how to identify the killer, Logan doesn't take the trouble. "For as long as you've heard the ticking? Perhaps even before that."

Kate flinches, perhaps predictably, at the use of that name. "I think the answer is just that: I've known all along. The uneasiness should have left me, and it never did. It was as if I had always known he wasn't dead. I simply had no proof." The mask cracks further as the blonde slips into a brooding pout. Whatever her thoughts now, she isn't giving voice to them.

"Peter never told you?" Now, Logan looks towards her in the fleeting dimness. No electricity in here, obviously, to light up the darker corners, but sunlight beams down through gaps at strange angles. Unconsciously, Logan avoids these little spotlights. "He lied to you along with the rest of the world?"

Kate stares hard at a point ahead of her, and past it all at once. Perhaps she's feeling bitter. Because Kate says, "Yes. He lied to me."

That's actually not what Logan expected to hear. But it's so, so much better. He does, however, resist smiling at her through the dusty half-light, simply moves closer. "It makes more sense now," he says after a short moment of silence has past, from taking in this statement, applying it to recent and not-so-recent events, like another layer to a blue print. "Why you'd call him out so publicly. We all deserved to know, as did you."

"Whatever Peter did with Gray in the first place, he never expected him to escape from it. I don't even want to know what he thought he did that would fix everything. All that matters is that he's back and he's killing again." Kate's hands suddenly come up to cover both her ears and she cries out as if in pain, followed by a sharp whimper. There's a pause and for a moment, she seems to be calming down, but then she lets out another whine.

Logan can guess what she hears, even if he doesn't hear it himself. He has his own fair share of hallucinations to deal with. He comes to stand in front of her, at a conversational distance, dark eyes taking in her appearance and actions critically. "I'm surprised you haven't requested protection," he says. "Your deal, with Donovan, had to have some kind of upside for you."

Trembling, Kate's hands pull away from her ears but hover just over them, ready to try and drown out the sound again. "Mister Donovan says I am to remain close to you from now on. I'm apparently too valuable to be killed by a rebel faction." She forces a quaking smile, "I think it's because I look prettier on camera than you do." The smile fades quickly as she flinches again, hands moving just a bit closer to her head once more, flattening her hair some.

"Says she, while trying to cover her ears from the sound inside her own head," Logan says, sharper, though his stance is casual, hands in his pockets. "Prettiness on camera only makes up for so much." But he doesn't seem to be objecting to this new role of hers, just voicing his cynicism.

Still-shaking hands are forced back to the top of the bar, gripping the edge until the knuckles turn white. "What are you offering, Logan? And what are you asking for in return?" Kate closes her eyes tightly and takes in a slow, deep breath. Then another. Five seems to be the magic number, as that's when she finally looks at him again.

The smile he gives Kate is almost pitying. "Nothing," Logan says, almost enjoying the simplicity of this statement. As if she'd already done everything he could hope for. "Although at the next event you're to be seen at, if you could wear that pink and black number, that would be nice." In other words, gloating is a fine victory. Then a moment of consideration, glancing up towards the gapped ceiling above then, light striking his face, making clear those claw marks just for a moment. "I did have a question."

That pink and black number. Kate looks disgusted for a moment, but still nods her acquiescence. Fine. She'll fish it out of the closet. Just for him. "I might have an answer," she responds finally.

"Oh I know you do," Logan says, and he's working to conceal the slight annoyance that of all people, she's the one he has to ask. But really, there's no one else. The setting is indication enough. "Nathan got in touch with you," he says, stoic as he says this. "I don't believe for a second that he did it just for old time's sake. What happened."

Kate leans forward. "We made love right here on the bar." With his arm and her… crazy? Not bloody likely. But it's worth it for the look she expects to see on his face.

At first? It's a blank look, annoyed that she's toying with him. Then, a disgusted curl to the lip as he turns his shoulder to her to pace away, along the length of said bar, which he can't help but glance at. Unclear as to whether he believes that claim, as he pushes the issue. "While I don't put it past Nathan to do something so meaningless and sentimental in this one chance he got, there's more. I know there is."

"Nathan and I don't exactly speak much, you know." Kate leans back again, swinging her legs back and forth slowly. "Were you a very, very bad boy and didn't even know it, Logan? Worse than usual? Did you do something so horrible that even you don't want to take credit for it? You poor, poor thing. Come here, Brother Dearest, and let Sissy kiss it better for you." She grins, wide and gapped as ever. Like the cat who just swallowed the canary.

Logan can play this game. He ignores the use of that nickname, leaning against the bar to give her an arch look, refusing to let her bring a rise from him. "There is nothing in this world that Nathan could do to someone that I wouldn't," he says. "You, of all people, should know what I'm capable of." He shakes his head. "But he can sabotage me. He's smarter than to simply waste what time he had. If he didn't mention it, than we're done here." He waits.

"I believe your little contracts are null and void," Kate offers. The grin stays, even if he does hint at the terrible things he's capable of. The things she's witnessed first-hand. One hand comes up to toy with the mirror fragment hanging over her chest.

Well. In this city, there is really only one thing that can refer to. Logan frowns a little, thoughtful, then seems to catch his glance in the dusty but still reflective bar top. A ripple of anger, but he otherwise doesn't respond to whatever that voice only he can hear has said. "Looks like they are," he finally says to Kate, smoothing out his expression back into stoic apathy, voice sardonic. "Barely a blip on the radar, however. I hope whatever time was spent between you two was worth it."

"More than you'll ever know." Kate stares down at the shard in her fingers, angling it to see Logan's reflection. Hoping instead to see Nathan. The grin is replaced by a far softer expression, the smile only faint now. "You'll call Homeland off of Peter." It isn't a request.

"That's the plan," Logan says, casting a dark look towards the wreckage around him. He sees the benefit of what Donovan has done, but he doesn't have to be happy about it. "We have a common enemy now, thanks to you. Whether this works to anyone's advantage will be entirely up to your husband."

This is the part where Kate should be thanking Logan. But it should come as no surprise when she doesn't. Instead, she turns her gaze to one of the gaps in the ceiling. A longing sort of look to the sky. "Hm." Distractedly thoughtful.

Logan takes his weight off the bar, flicking up the collar of his coat as Logan starts to move passed her, towards the door that leads out on the streets. No flying necessary, as a car is inevitably parked nearby to take him back to the Marriott. He pauses as one might to say goodbye, but instead, he asks: "What is it?"

"I miss the sky," Kate responds forlornly, unashamed to admit this to him now.

Logan stops, head tilted a little, before following her gaze up towards those strips of sky visible through the ruined roof. Then, he makes for the door, and tosses over his shoulder, "You have Peter." Is there an echo in here? A very long, delayed echo, perhaps. He adds, "Tell it to him." The door doesn't close properly behind him, but he lets it swing.

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