2007-08-11: DF: Teensy Weensy Favor


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Summary: Peter visits Candy as he promised and has something he needs to find, and she also has a favor to ask of him. He's carrier pigeon for the past, seriously.

Dark Future Date: August 11th, 2009

Teensy-Weensy Favor


The Flock is busy. There's a lot going on right now, with Cass missing. Word of a meeting tonight that he'd need to be back for is making the trip a little short. Peter tries to get word sent ahead, as well as instructions on the exact destination. It may not be the last stop of the afternoon, but it's something he needs to get done… and soon. Landing a few miles away— something he's done quite a bit lately— and now he's doing something else rather than going it invisible. He's running. Not just running, but jacking up his system to try and practice the ability he learned. It increases his speed, that's for sure. When he reaches Candyland— early afternoon hours— he stops to catch his breath and force down the adrenaline and the endorphines while looking around with greener eyes. "Wow."

The Wasteland is just another dreary landscape in a dreary city. The only thing standing is half the first storey, in which the elevator structure still stands, and seems to be not working, the doors partially open and leading to darkness. Peter is given a few moments to linger, before suddenly, a speaker crackles to life. From… somewhere, maybe a few all at once to stretch the sound of the speaker all about the destroyed area, in a sort of ominous fashionable. But the still slightly Californian female voice that sounds out is hardly ominous, especially with her choice of words: "Peter, honey? That you?" Might… not be a good idea to announce a name like that, but maybe the speaker is assured in the security of her sanctuary.

"Yeah— yeah it's me," Peter says, continuing to let the boost effect fade. The green leaves his eyes— and then the color leaves his face. Within moments he's bending down and catching himself on the ground to keep from falling over entirely. Whoa, he must have come out of that too fast. After a few deep breaths, he sits back up, though is still knelt at the ground. "Sorry— tried to send word ahead— um— where are you?" Can she even hear him?

There's a rustle of some kind, then what sounds like, "hold oh—" because she switches it off before she's completely done talking. Barely a minute later, sounds of life emit from the elevator, electric and smooth, and Candy comes jogging out. She's not dressed up like she was when Peter last saw her, in a white, form-fitting tank top and sweatpants, feet in running shoes, although this certainly helps her navigate better over rumble. Her face is the picture of concern as she moves towards Peter, a manicured hand being held out to him. "Are you okay?" she asks, hazel-green eyes darting around a bit to see if there's a threat that's made him crouch so.

There's only a small amount of green left in his eyes when Peter looks up at her. Even then, he's visibly sweating and looking as if he just got done exersizing for hours and hours. "Yeah, I'm good— just— training. Elena thinks I need to shape up if I'm going to stay here long enough to do what I need to do." He needs better clothes for training, though, honestly. White t-shirt does the trick, but his jeans, even if loose, could be better. "I actually have a favor to ask of you— but I guess— you— I figured with your car you might have access to some things— from before."

A flicker of uncertainty shows in Candy's eyes, but mostly curiousity. She places a hand on his shoulder with the intent to guide him towards the elevator, underground to relative safety. "Well, anything I can do to help out our saviour," she says, hitting the button beside the elevator door. They open, revealing the spacious, glowing interior, likely used once upon a time to shift around equipment to the subbasements.

Not a savior, just a man. Even then, Peter can't help but smile a little when she calls him that. "Working on it, at least." If he can become a better savior— then he will. Right now, he's still working on it. Following towards the elevator, his first weirds upon getting inside are to raise his eyebrows. Spacious, glowing interior. "I have a feeling this place looks better on the inside." Because the outside was pretty bad. There's that hint of a smile again. This woman seems to be able to bring it out of him, for some reason. More than he normally smiles. "I'm looking for a music box."

In contrast to the outside? Yeah, a fully functioning, almost futuristic elevator is a little startling, and Candy smiles almost proudly. "It does. I wish you could have seen this place before— well, before," she says, hands on her waist as they move on down. "They were still doing construction on it when the city got torn to pieces." DING! They walk out into— what looks like a warehouse. Then one notices the cameras. Then further into the distance, the movie sets, some lit up and some shrouded with darkness. Peter is, perhaps, getting a sort of unofficial tour, or else Candy may have taken them directly down to the living areas. "A music box?" she asks.

"I still can," Peter says, looking around as they walk into the warehouse— the movie sets. Wow. They could easily make their own propoganda commercials for the country in here— maybe they do. He wouldn't put it past them. "Though I guess it might be difficult to get access— unless I promised a donation, or something." He doesn't know the Cains very well at all. He never even technically met them until now. But he is a Petrelli— and he does have reasons to meet Jaden. He just hasn't yet. Things kept getting in the way. There's a wide eyed look as he glances around at his unoffical tour, before he adds, "Yeah— a music box. Doesn't have to be big, just has to be a box that plays music when you open it. It's… a gift, I guess."

Crazy random happenstances. Candy turns to squint at him for a moment, then leads him sharply towards a set. It's a suburban household living room, and has a few of her own personal belongings strewn about. Clearly, this is a sort of makeshift homely area for her, even with the new apartment buildings Eric's given them. There's a couch, floral drapes, a functioning TV and windows that lead to nothing - sort of sad in a way, but cozy. "For who?" she asks, a little cheerily, not yet answering as to whether she can obtain such an item, moving to perch herself on the arm of the couch.

There's a long pause, a hint of reluctance, and then Peter moves closer, looking towards the functioning television, and leaving her to claim the couch arm. He remains standing, even as he looks… well… nervous. At least he's stopped sweating, and his breathing has returned to normal. Quick recovery— he's getting better with that, at least. "Elena. I— before everything happened, I'd given her two of them already— and… I know I'm not here long, and I'm trying to change this world, for the people back when I come from at least…" But he still wants to give her something, it sounds like? Even if he's rather embarassed by it.

This is the kind of gesture that someone like Candy might think is adorable and awesome, but instead, she looks at him with almost a wariness in her eyes. But she doesn't look about to argue this - it's just a music box, after all. And Elena is a big girl! She can grapple with such complications on her own. So her wary concern melts after a moment, and she offers him a lip-glossed smile - if a slightly sad one. "Well isn't that sweet?" she says. "And great timing, I— well here, I'm not sure if…" She bats a hand to dismiss her words, and reaches for that glittery handbag which had first produced cookies when Peter last saw it. Now, it provides— not strictly a music box, but a jewelry box. However, she winds it, and flicks the lid open. A classical piano sounding tune starts to play, and she offers the opened container out for him to inspect. It looks almost antique in design, rich woods and deep engravings.

It's the wariness that makes him nervous. Peter runs his hand through his hair, until a single curl falls onto his forhead and stays there. It doesn't get into his eyes, just touching his eyebrow. "It's… great timing?" He asks, surprised by this and moving forward a little to watch as she retrieves something from her back. A music box. A jewelry box that plays music. And it's beautiful. Inlaid and classical— and he recognizes the piece playing too. Classical music had been what she liked. Not quite what he might have wanted for this, but beggers, right? "Wow— did you just— find that?" She was carrying it aroundin her bag the same day he needed it. It's not a coincidence. It's destiny.

"Guerilla flea market," Candy says, smile a little more lopsided with sheepishness. "My options are a little slim these days, but I manage to find these people. I only bought it just today, because it was pretty." She shrugs her bared shoulders, placing her handbag back down before lacing her hands on top of her knees. "It's not exactly a music box, but it— it has music. And it's a box." Music + box = music box! Applied mathematics, Candy style. She then reaches up to smooth that curl of hair back from his forehead in a sort of fussy, motherly-hen-like fashion.

"Wow," Peter says, shaking his head a little at the coincidence. She only bought it because it was pretty— and it's just what he needed. "No, no, it's perfect— the ones I got her before were jewelry boxes as well." So it works out fine. He actually starts to reach out for it, before he stops, the haircurl smoothed out of the way. The gesture doesn't seem to bother him, so much as… "I really don't have anything I can pay you with…"
That gets a slightly unladylike snort from Candy, and she closes then pushes the box into his hands, the abrupt ending to the tune as abrupt as the gesture. "Like I said. Anything I can do to help," she says, with a smile. Then. Then. Her eyes widen in that 'I haz an idea!!!' kind of way. "Actually, if you could do me a teensy-weensy favour…"

With the box directly pushed into his hands, Peter takes it. He'll need something better to carry it in, but right now he's got nothing. Maybe he can talk her into a carrier bag later too— but right now… "Well, a favor I can handle. It's the whole… I don't even own the clothes I'm wearing." Well— he does. His wife gave them to him. His… future maybe wife? Technically they are his. That's why they fit so well. They're just not his. It's complicated. "Whatever you need, I'll try to do it."

And he's just so… Candy can't help but pity him, a little. He's not young in the strictest sense of the word, but younger than she is, and young in his own way. "Well you came to the right place. There's a decent costuming department still stocked. You might want to avoid getting dressed up as King Henry the something, but there's normal clothes too. I can let you go on a spree in there, if you like, Desmond's claimed what he likes from it ages ago." And she's hopping up from her seat, moving to bend down and retrieve a disc from the DVD player hooked to the TV, and it's slipped inside a plain white case. In sharpie, it's labeled 'WONDER WOMAN', and this is handed to Peter too, placed on top of the box. Now, Candy actually looks self-conscious - not an expression that once upon a time came naturally to her. "It was— I never got to finish it," she explains. "But it was my first film that I got to direct, and that has all the pieces left. Maybe, even if you don't save the world, I'll be able to get ahead and complete it."

"No, I have clothes— they're just not really… mine." Peter explains, glancing down at the well fitted clothes, and the box in his hands. The retrieval of a DVD raises an eyebrow, and he doesn't quite understand what's happening, until suddenly he's holding a movie. Wonder Woman. She was making Wonder Woman? He had no idea… "Oh— you want me to give the movie to— to you?" It would certainly help move production along, even if she decided to reshoot everything. It's a weird request, but… "Sure— I can do that. I can try at least." There's no way to be sure he'll be able to do it, but he will try. "Do you think I could borrow a bag to carry all this in?" That he can give back. Please not a purse.

Weird request? Definitely. But when he says he can try, Candy's face lights up and she wraps her arms around— his head. Bosomhug is executed promptly and enthusiastically. "Thank you~!" she says, with a slight squeal in her voice. "You have no idea how much that'd mean to me. Well, me-me, it might seem weird to your-me— " Then she remembers that she is smothering him with her breasts, and releases. "A bag? Oh, sure. Do you like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?"

Whoa, what— Peter is surprised when he suddenly finds his head in her boobs. Until he's released, he doesn't have much time to think about anything. It's stunning, really. "What— oh…" With his hair a little ruffled, he gives himself a shake, still holding the music box and the DVD. "Yeah— yeah, I like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles." It's better than a purse!

We all have our talents! Candy has two. She smiles brightly. "Good! Then you stay put, honey, and I'll go find it." And she's out, apparently her spirits picked up at the concept of making a real difference in the world! Well, no, but that will be one epic Wonder Woman movie completed starring herself, and that will at least make this future a tad brighter.
Honey? Peter's still shaken a little when she starts to move away. With DVD and music box in hand, he can't even push back his hair. But instead, he walks over to the couch and plops down. Literally plops. This lets him put the stuff into his lap. By this point he's forgotten about straightening his hair.

It takes a little while, but eventually, Candy returns, swinging something from her hand, a backpack. It's big enough for a grown man, but a little childish all the same - black, with bright green Ninja Turtle images. She probably has more variety than this, and it's likely one of Jaden's, but maybe she feels it's the kind of thing Peter would like! Who knows, it is a mystery, one of the many. "All yours," she says, holding out the empty backpack with a friendly smile. "I hope Elena likes the box."

Still stunned from the… experience, Peter looks up when she returns and smiles lopsidedly. A genuine smile, if a little on the shy side. He just doesn't seem to know how to deal with this sort of thing at all. "Thanks," he says, taking the bag and packing away the two precious items. Both of which are a little fragile, only one of which he actually needs to take back to the past with him. With it packed away, he starts to stand. "I hope she likes it too, even if it's just— actually. Maybe you could…" She's a woman. Maybe she'll know the answer. "If— if you cared about someone and they could only stay a short time… would you still want them to… be there? Even if you knew they had to go away eventually?" He knows his answer to that question, but women are complicated.

Candy, apparently, sees nothing out of the norm for a bosomhug. The only male she tries to attract these days is Desmond, it seems (which is a total 180 for her), but then again, she is sort of very different from Angela when it comes to a motherly experience, isn't she? She hooks her thumbs in the pockets of her pants, and regards Peter seriously. It seems to strike a chord for her, one she can't place. "I think… yes," she says, a little faintly. "Makes the goodbye worth it."

"Thanks, that's… it helps," Peter says, reaching over to touch her arm briefly, before he nods, putting the backpack over his shoulder. "I need to get back out there. But maybe I can stop by a few more times and take you up on that clothing offer." Even if he doesn't really need it now, it still wouldn't hurt.

Candy's smile brightens just a tad more at his approval, and then she nods, hair falling into her eyes at the movement, which is briskly brushed back. "You're always welcome to," she says, before linking her arm with his to guide him back past Gotham city movie set, and towards the elevator. "Please do look after yourself, Peter."

"I have to— this world might be much worse than it is without me," Peter says with a hint of a wink, allowing the arm linking past the Gotham movie set. What would the world have turned out like without him in it? He can't imagine it'd be better. "Thank you. I just hope that I can get to know you again when I get back home." It just may take getting to know her son first.

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