Or By This Time Tomorrow


hiro_icon.gif kaylee2_icon.gif

Scene Title Or By This Time Tomorrow
Synopsis Hiro pays back Kaylee's debt. Or is it the other way around? Time is tricky that way.
Date August 19, 2010

Gun Hill: Kaylee's Apartment

In the small one bedroom apartment, a small floor cooler hum loudly as it takes the edge off the slight warmth that still clings to the place. At least it hasn't been as hot as usual. It's a rather bland looking place, with it's white wall devoid of ornaments, a bookshelf full of books and photos of friends and family. The furniture is mismatched couch and a pair of chairs, with a coffee table that seems from an older time. It's nothing like the home of a Kentucky raised girl. Maybe she's just afraid of having too much to move if she has to leave in a hurry.

The two living room windows, are covered in a light sheer, letting in the red-gold light of the late after noon stream in and cast everything in a warm gossamer glow.

Even though the apartment doesn't look all that special, Kaylee still sits, legs laying the length of the couch, with a laptop perched on her legs. Her golden furred companion is sprawled out on the rug, stretched out as far as she can go. Missy for once is not sprawled on her her human. She is content. The flat screen TV that somehow survived it's time tucked inot Grand Central is on the news, but the sound is off.

Seems Kaylee isn't interested in really hearing what it has to say.

Outside, the air is still, but now and then a humid breeze will test her windows, slip in a small flurry of moving to kick edges of her curtains around like a bashful boot toe. With the same kind of subtlety, there is a minute shift in the air as something fills in space that was empty just a moment ago, oxygen pushed aside in the split-second act of teleportation, the slight swing of a three-quarter length coat making a fabricy whisper somewhere to Kaylee's left.

In the same moment, a black shape edits itself into reality in her periphery, a rushing sound that doesn't quite sound like wind. Hiro's eyes are unfocused, first, when this space materialises around him and he keenly sets his sights down on the woman seated on the sofa. "Do not be afraid," he says in the very same space of time it takes for her to notice him. A hilt of a sword is visible at his shoulder from where it lies sheathed diagonal across his back, his hair shiny and black as wet tar, pulled severely into its warriors tail, and a patch of beard is razored around and left on his chin that looks weak in his round face.

Everything else about him is sharp edged, for all that his physical shape is not. "You are Kaylee Thatcher," is a signal that he won't need an introduction, if she had any intentions of doing so. "My name is Hiro Nakamura."

The sudden arrival of a figure as well as a mental presence makes Kaylee jump enough that she almost spills the laptop onto the floor. Missy is startled to her feet and she bumps into the coffee table with a yelp. It's only the quick actions of the blonde that computer doesn't meet the floor. Fingers gripping it tight, it hangs there as she stares at the man standing in her living room, while her dog growls. "What the…!?!" She starts to snap, but then what he says registers.

"Hiro?" The surprise and recognition at the name shows on her face, as she pulls the laptop back in her lap slowly, the lid closed. Her father's words ring through her head.

Don't trust Hiro Nakamura.

"I — ah — what… brings you here?" She finally asks when she is able to gather her wits around her, arms wrapping around the laptop so she can pull it close to her chest and slide her legs off the couch so her feet can touch the floor.

If Hiro recognises recognition, he is a sight better at veiling it than Kaylee. His expression, though, expresses as much as a placid pond, his thoughts still as opposed to the loudness that commonly bombards her when others don't know any better — whether he's silenced himself for her sake or if it's just the zen way that he is is up for debate and not immediately obvious. "You do," he says, before stepping aside, as if to break free from his own stillness, the intimidating way he can stand like a statue. Or a soldier.

"Or your gift is what brings me here. I have a gift as well." He hesitates, but it's a deliberate kind of pause, weighing his words as his eyes settle on the puppy that's revving a growl at him. "Do you know what it is like, to make a mistake with the powers that you have? The ramifications. The ripples."

"Missy. Hush." The command is sharp, when Kaylee notices his glance at the puppy. Missy does listen… at least for a moment.. slinking, belly low, to get under the table. There she resumes growling a little and making sure it's soft.

"I do." Kaylee admits after a moment of studying the man. "The first time I found out what I was and many times since." She has regretted a lot of what she did out of the sake of her own enjoyment and fun. Other stuff… not so much. Leaning forward, she gently sets the computer on the table, her eyes not moving from the oriental man, she's somewhat guarded.

Her lips press together tightly, at the thought that everyone seems to come to her for that… and only that. A tool to be used, nothing more. It's only slightly bitter, but understanding as well. She knows how important her talent can be. "So… what do you need me to do?" The question is asked slowly, her tone uncertain, head tilting a little with curiosity.

'Nothing more' seems a little elaborate, if one were to ask Hiro — he is not the mindreader in this room, however, and his posture straightens a little more when she arrives at a conclusion, a harder landing that he might have wanted to guide, with screechingly stressed mechanics, a jarring halt. His silence is reserved and guarded, thoughtfulness settling around him like a mist. This must happen often, is a thought that sneaks through, maybe deliberately, although whether Kaylee catches it depends on whether she's listening.

"I need you to use your power to change or better still, delete the memories of someone who knows what he should not," Hiro says, his voice clipped in his desire to be succinct. "To do this, I must take you back in time — that is my gift. Once we are done, I will take you back home. It is with your ability to do so."

This is both statement and question, his pause allowing for response. There is reserve in his voice, as well, as if expecting the high possibility of being told no — no she can't, no she won't.

The young telepath doesn't say much for a long moment, though a mouth does twitch up on one side as she catches the though. "You make it sound so simple." Her voice somewhat flat, but not completely without emotion. Kaylee is torn, completely.

One of her biggest failings is her curiosity.

Had her father taken that into his considerations. Something has her head tipping one way and then the other, however, as she considers him. Kaylee folds her hands and rests her elbows on her knees. "A time traveler." There is amusement in those words. No wonder her father doesn't trust him. Her father is all about the future and knowing what will happen, someone like Hiro could mess it all up.

"So… say I go with you. Who and when?" Kaylee's hands unlace and she spreads them slightly, a small smile on her lips. "I'd like to know what I'm getting into, I'm sure you understand."

Missy has since stopped really growling, but still camps out under the table, shaggy head on her paws, she rolled up to watch the stranger. Only when he opens his mouth and words come out, does she give another soft warning growl.

"Francois Allegre." Elegant French vowels and consonants war with Hiro's diluted but unmistakable accent, pretty in a different way, sounding awkward when they come together and making the man in question sound a little more exotic than he is. "And the time is 1945. A mistake was made, and it is my responsibility to eliminate the risk of ripples that grow from my own errors in history. I want you to alter his memory of an encounter that should I never have happened and cannot have happened."

Another sharp glance to the growling puppy, his brow crinkling in a suggestion of puzzlement and annoyance. "Warui ko," is mild chastisement, before his steers his attention back to the telepath. "There are others I could seek out," he admits. "Ones who will not need this," and he pushes his hand into a pocket, and takes out a capped syringe. The black liquid within is distinctly unappealing. "In order to do this task.

"But I'm advised that you are the correct choice."

Brows lift high on her head as he explains, Kaylee wasn't expecting to go back that far or at all really. The name… seems vaguely familiar, having heard it before from the lips of various people in the network. Tho' that would mean a very old person, she didn't get that impression from them.

"What… is that?" Suddenly, she's worried. Standing, which has her towering a good handful of inches over the sword wielding man, Kaylee can't help but move close. She's a moth to the flame. The black liquid scares her a little and the uncertainty shows. "And who told you to stick me with that? Or that I would be the right choice at all?" Her warring emotions show as her blue gaze, moves from the inky mixture to the man, her head turning ever so slightly to let her do that. Clearly, she isn't comletely sure she is the right choice.

At the reprimand from the stranger, Missy ducks further under the table. Such a good guard dog she is.

"It is a drug manufactured by the government that boosts abilities beyond their usual potential," Hiro explains, words rattling controlled and easy, open and honest in his frankness. "It is only temporary and is not harmful. I acquired some for the person I am— working with." He pauses, considers Rhys explaining himself to Kaylee, ridiculous words flying prim from his little frog mouth, and the time traveler gives a minute shake of his head. As difficult as this is to explain, it's just—

Easier that he be the one to do it. He doesn't seem intimidated by her height, and resists what temptation there might be to step back, and put their vantage at a more equal playing field. "He can see the past. And he sees you. I will owe you a favour for this.

"And it will be a good thing that I do. Are you busy now, Kaylee Thatcher?"

Better that he do it too — and choose what not to say.

Another glance goes to the vial and her teeth catch at her bottom lip in thought. Kaylee is hesitant to answer the time traveler. Finally, the word comes out, drawn out and sounding a touch uncertain. "No?"

A look goes to the dog under the table, as she gives a long sigh of resignation. Her daddy isn't going to like this… of course… how is he going to find out? He's in a coma according to most. "Okay." There is more confidence in her answer this time. She straightens a little and takes a deep breath. "Okay, I'll help you."

So many of her decisions have ended badly, hopefully this one won't do the same. The telepath's eyes roll upward toward the ceiling and the apartments above her, one in particular in her thoughts. She can only hope, should she go missing, Joseph will make sure Missy gets a good home. "Let's go before I come to my senses." She says finally, giving him a smile, as her eyes drop to look at him again.

There is some relief in the way Hiro's shoulders lose tension. There would be worse ways to go about this. Unwise consent, Hiro will take it. He steps forward with swiftness that might be startling, but when his hand seeks out her shoulder, it's a gentle, agonisingly polite touch of bare palm to clothed joint. "We shall have a conversation also, before that happens," he adds, with what might be a spark of mirth, friendly, some softer sort of demeanor left over before he became—

A samurai, apparently. His eyes squinch close, and with all the lack of fanfare with which Hiro appeared, the two are edited out of time and space.

They don't come back by the time Missy is snuffling her nose where her mistress once stood.

They don't even come back by the time the sun sets.

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