2007-08-03: Three Wishes


DFLogan_icon.gif DFMolly_icon.gif

Summary: At least it wasn't her favourite dad. Molly has a business proposition for Logan, and she uses up a wish.

Dark Future Date: August 3rd, 2009

Three Wishes

Marriott Marquis

In New York City, there really aren't many places that the President of the United States can go and guarantee his own safety. But Logan was never one for hiding, much to the stress of his security, and rather than ordering and dining within the safety of the elegant suite upstairs, he's chosen one of the restaurants. He even sits by a window, as if daring the world to try anything. He's having a conversation with a woman in a powerbitch suit, very 80s when all's said and done, and both are ignoring their glasses of wine. All around, security hasn't bothered to clear the area of usual patrons, but they remain watchful, both in civilian clothes and in more intimidating suits.

Sitting just outside the restaurant on a bench is a blonde haired girl. Her hair is pulled back halfway and she's wearing a cute outfit reminiscent of a Catholic school girl and holding onto a stuffed elephant. This elephant is old, dirty, and ripped in places that never got repaired. There's no cradling for poor Anandi, she's just kind of held onto absently. Who she's watching is the man through the window who everyone seems to think is just so important. But, she knows better. Pushing off the bench, she disappears in the darkness, only to reappear in the lobby of said hotel and then climbs the stairs to restaurant. Ignoring the hostess, she makes her way right for the President's table. Eyeing the security detail, she clings onto her stuffed animal closer and makes her eyes wide and glassy. "Oh, Mr. President sir? I can't believe it. Can I shake your hand?" Making sure that she's mostly hidden by the biggest burliest of the security, she makes her voice high=pitched to sound much younger than she actually is.

Whatever the woman - possibly an agent from Homeland Security, possibly a member of his own staff - is saying, she's cut off with a handwave from Logan, as he turns in his seat to see who's talking to him. Said burly agent starts to put a hand on Molly's shoulder, likely with the intent to steer her away, but Logan glances at him. That's enough of a cue to stop. "Let's not alienate those that don't oppose us, huh?" he says with a bland smile. Cue to laugh. The woman and the guard smile obediently. Good, they get cookies. His gaze drops to Molly, a flicker of recognition… but apparently not enough, because he gestures for her to step on over. "Of course. And what's your name?"

The cute little girl gets her through more doors than dynamite. And Molly knows exactly how to play it up. After all, she used to be that cute little girl. Now, though, she's been given the keys to the castle and all she had to do is blink her cute blue eyes. Stepping up, shyly, she smiles at Logan. "I knew what they said wasn't true. I knew you were really a good man, like my father used to say." She holds out a hand to shake and as soon as it grasps onto Logan's, it holds on - tight. "Oh, you know me, Mr. President. I'm little Molly Walker. Now, you're going to tell your security detail and the woman in the ugly suit to leave us alone or I'm going to blow us all up sky high." She's still wearing the happy smile, but now it turns even wider. Something almost mocking. "No one ever thinks to check the stuffed animal for explosives, now, do they?"

Molly goddamn Walker. Yes, Logan knows that name. Nathan knew that name. Logan's reaction? He sighs. Why can't people just fall in line like they are supposed to? His hand grips the young girl's, looking at her coldly, suppressed anger simmering there. Around him, security within hearing all tense up, one speaking into a mic that they do indeed have a situation. "Leave us," Logan says, not taking his eyes off Molly.

The agent hesitates. "Sir, I— "

"You heard her. Or do you want to be responsible for wrecking one of the only still standing buildings in this godforsaken city? Leave us."

For a moment, it doesn't appear that those orders will be followed. Something, however, is spoken into the agent's earpiece, and reluctantly, they withdraw. The woman in the ugly suit? Yeah, she's more than happy to scurry away, jitteringly picking up a file she had open and making for the exit. Logan yanks his hand from Molly's, picking up one of the fabric napkins from the table and cleaning his palm and knuckles, as if she had made his hand dirty. "No, no one ever does. But I suppose they should."

All the while she's being stared at, the young girl just keeps that slightly unnerving smile on her face. Allowing Logan to yank his hand out of hers, Molly bounces over to the chair that the other lady had just so recently occupied and climbs up onto it. Eagerly, she picks a few things off of her plate and starts munching on them. "Yech. The steak is overcooked." Because she's an expert, really. Setting Nandi carefully down on the seat next to her, she smiles at Logan and folds her hands onto the table as if she was were a civilized person. She waits till the agents are away until she continues, "Man, you people really fall for all that explosive stuff." Pulling a gun out of her pocket, she points it at Logan. "Good thing, all I really need is a gun. Please. Like I would really kill myself just to blow you up. You /really/ have an over developed sense of self importance. Please. Everyone skittering around trying to kill you or keep you in power when we both know the truth. You're just a sad little man."

Logan is not a drinker. But this time, he can make an exception. He picks up his full, untouched glass of white wine, taking a sip from it as she talks and keeping an eye on that gun of hers. "People have died over lesser things," he says, swirling the alcohol in his glass, as if this really were a casual dinner meeting, and not a conversation with a young girl pointing a gun at him at pointblank range. It's a good effort. "I think, as the President of the United States, I'm entitled to an over developed sense of importance. As for not killing yourself to kill me, you'll be shot six ways 'til Sunday if you even think about pulling the trigger." He flicks a gaze out the window, but mostly, he keeps his focus on her. "So how about we just have a conversation?"

"Oh, I know." And the way she says that, it might be hard for Logan to not remember Mohinder and his death. Maybe that's what Molly is here to talk about. Maybe not. "You'd think, right? But it's so easy to take you down. And what happens then? Nothing, that's what. This country runs by just fine without you. Probably better." Leaning back in her chair, she keeps the gun trained on Logan and laughs. "You have no idea, do you? I'm much more valuable than that. And once you kill me, that all goes away." There's a pause. "I never much liked Sunday, either. Boring day. I'd rather be shot six ways till Saturday. More happens on Saturday. Conversation? Who needs that. I've got a business proposition for you."

Oh he recalls Mohinder's death. The gun in Molly's hand, her presence, these things can only summon up the memory. Suresh died praying. Logan would rather avoid this fate too, and there is something decidedly unhinged about the way this girl carries herself. And this is what the sociopathic alterego of someone suffering extreme SPD has to say on the matter, so it has to be bad. "Saturday morning cartoons happen on Saturday," he agrees, in a vacant tone, leaning back into his chair as well, a hand coming up to rub his jaw thoughtfully. "Let's cut straight to it, then. What do you want?"

And that's partially the point. To remind Logan of what he's done. She's kind of the devil's advocate. "Oooh, what do I want? That's the proper question, now isn't it? I want what every girl wants…just to have fun." While Logan and Nathan may have their own SPD problem, Molly has nothing of the sort. There is only Molly Walker and no other personalities. She has just been warped and broken beyond what Nathan knew her to be. "I say, I'll find whoever you want, anyone you want, whenever you want. But, I get a total of three favors from you. Unnamed for now, but which I'll come to cash in whenever I want which, no matter what, you will fulfill. We'll call them my three wishes."

Hard to say if Nathan is even watching right now, if he's able, but Logan was always watching, especially in those first few days after this body was healed. This change in her… though Nathan only knew this girl briefly… makes him both wary and curious. Maybe one day he'll ask, when they're in a less volatile situation, because she makes an excellent point: she's possibly the most valuable Evolved a government could want. And so therefore? He's not going to let her go so easily. "Three wishes," he repeats, considering this. "Only three, for such an invaluable gift?" He points to her, keeping his motions relatively slow and gentle, just in case. "Whoever, whenever. You hold true to that, Ms. Walker, you can ask me for anything."

Logan may ask her one day, but it's unlikely that Molly will tell him. Or, maybe she will. Just to unnerve him. See what makes him squirm. Something certainly terrible and life-changing happened to her to make her like this. However, that's not what she's thinking about now. It's her little deal. The smile turns into something more of a smirk. "You don't know what three things I'm going to ask of you, Mr. President." There may not be anything 'only' about them. For now, she's not about to shoot him. She's getting what she wants. "I'll hold you to that," she says. Lowering her gun, slowly, she studies Logan for a little while. "As of now, just ask and I'll find whoever you want." Reaching over her her stuffed elephant, she looks as if she's about ready to go. Business arrangement over. "Oh, and if you tell anyone about our arrangement, I'll find you and kill you before you know I'm even there."

It's not every day that you have a little girl calling the shots. As it were. Logan watches that gun lower but manages not to change his demeanor. He's just hoping that security doesn't do anything stupid, but they seem to be staying out of it. Who knows what's going on behind the scenes, though. He's half expecting the window to shatter and for Molly to fall down dead, and despite this situation, he really hopes this doesn't occur. "It'll be our little secret," Logan agrees, gravely. He puts on a smile, his usual detached sort of smile that brings no comfort to anyone, even if that was his attempt. "Run along now before they blow your brains out." It's not spoken as a threat; it's as close to advice Logan will ever give out.

The gun doesn't lower all that far, however Molly stands up and edges for the window instead of the doorway. No way is she leaving that way. "Good to know." A few well aimed shots and the window comes crashing down in front of her in a waterfall of glass. A piece slices past her arm, but she doesn't seem to mind it. She doesn't even flinch. "Well, that seems to be my cue." She waves at the security guards who should note the gun back to being pointed at Logan. Through the broken window she steps, careful of all the other shards scattered about. She knows where all of the guards are and she makes sure that she's hidden properly when she adds, "Oh, and by the way. I can't find dead people. It's how I know when something happens to them. You're lucky the part of me that cared died years ago. Now I'll only use up my first wish only shooting you in a non-vtial body part rather than in the head. And you won't get it fixed by one of your healers. Goodnight." Without waiting for an answer, she fires off a round at his right shoulder and then slips off into a crowd before any retaliation shots can be fired.

And he thought he had to dance carefully around Jessica. Wait 'til Molly grows up.

Logan cries out when the bullet pierces his shoulder, tumbling out of his chair in a stagger - whether the force of the shot knocked him down, or whether he's trying to irrationally escape more gunfire. Either way, it doesn't get him far, left hand coming up to clap the freely bleeding wound. And as for the agents, well, this is a bad day, and they just can't seem to get a visual on the girl who can find anyone. Whoever, whenever. That's the important thing.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License