Her Self-Chosen Mission


abby_icon.gif cat_icon.gif

Scene Title Her Self-Chosen Mission…
Synopsis … is being performed when Cat seeks information.
Date August 20, 2010

Noah Bennet's safehouse in St. Petersburg, Russia.

It's a spartan place with a torture chair and a bathroom made sparkling by Abby.

Friday morning, according to the clocks in Putin's Russia. A joke comes to Cat's mind, one kept to herself, along the lines of what Yakov Smirnoff might've told before the Iron Curtain rusted away. In Putin's Russia, clock wind you. She's been up for a stretch of time and gone about part of a physical exercise regimen. Situps, pushups, even some pullups if she could find a bar to use for that. It's incomplete anyway, given the lack of amenities in her training room at home, but that's no reason to abstain.

She's also been watching, waiting for a moment, and it comes as Abby is sanitizing the bathroom and perhaps in some discomfort given her refusal to occupy the seat until it'd been clean. The moment appears at hand, with the others occupied and/or elsewhere, and so Cat's frame appears in the doorway. "Morning, Abby," she greets.

Elbow deep in a toilet is not when she's used to carrying on a conversation, the smell of cleaner strong in the room and sweat on her forehead as she's bent over the toilet scrubbing it with scrounged up supplies. "Good morning, Cat. I'll be done here soon enough." She lifts her hand to flush the toilet, let it swirl away the suds and satisfies the southern woman. It's mostly clean now, almost to her personal standards.

"No hurry," Cat replies. Perhaps that the task is almost done is also part of Cat's design, saving herself from possibly being enlisted to help with the endeavor. "It's looking two thousand percent better, Abby." A pause is taken before getting right to what she's thinking about.

And then it comes. "At that last council meeting, Abby, it seemed you were about to throw down with Susan Ball. You commented on things she's done. What was that all about?"

"You need to talk with Kaylee, Cat, before I will talk about Susan." The blonde answers, a glance up to Cat where she towers over her. Cleaning cloth and spray applied to the toilet seat and tank, her movements brisk as she carries on with her self appointed task. "No offense intended, Cat. I just don't get along with Susan."

Her head tilts as the brain processes that reply. Talk to Kaylee. Innnteresting. Maybe Kaylee knows what this is all about. Maybe it runs deeper than that, there being a reason Abby desires she meet with a telepath before telling her things about a persuasionist. It could be what Abby claimed, that they just don't get along, but if so, why direct her to a telepath?

"I see," she slowly replies, prior to a question. "I guess Kaylee would then tell you I spoke to her, or fill me in on her own?"

"Kaylee will let me know if you're.." Abigail frowns, jaw tight as she thumps the toilet seat down. "Kaylee will let me know, and then I will let you know." That, it seems, is all that Cat is going to get from the medic. "Kaylee knows what to look for Cat, if you don't want to let her take a look, then that's fine." She pushes up from the floor, wiping her hands on her yoga pants.

"I've nothing to hide from telepaths," Cat replies quietly, a true statement. Unless the telepath is, of course, Matt Parkman or one tied to hostile headquarters. There's no need of speaking further on this until she's had a conversation with Edward's daughter, so she lets it rest. Feet are heard to move in the opposite direction, Abby being left to her self-chosen mission.

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