Participants:
| Scene Title | Single, Seeking Assistance |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Tracy finally decides that playing it safe isn't enough anymore, and she reaches out. |
| Date | October 16, 2009 |
Old Lucy's
Before opening, that's when Tracy was told to come on in. Before the other bartenders slink in for work, before customers start showing up and the music starts. Late late morning, and if the woman so wanted, she could come in the back, or the side, to save her reputation. Abigail's going over things, paperwork, inventory, making herself acquainted with all things business.
Don't judge Tracy that she used the side door and parked around back. It's a bar, sure, but not one with the most innocent reputation - some things she just can't be seen doing, no matter how innocent they are.
"Good morning Miss Beauchamp," Tracy says as she enters, smiling that same smile as always. The lights cause it to glisten - as well as the pearls around your thorat. "Thank you so much for agreeing to meet me."
She's wearing a blue and black pencil dress, with a blazer over it. And still her arm is in that sling.
Khaki shirt that comes to her knees, Lacy top and flats, Abigail's foot taps on the stool then stops when Tracy comes. "Hello Ms. Strauss. I'm glad that you could come on down. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Soda?" Her attention goes from the papers and such at hand to the older blonde.
Tracy settles onto a stool beside Abby, putting her purse up on the counter top. "A coffee would be lovely, thank you," she ansewrs easily enough. Just because Tracy likes her martinis doesn't mean she skimps on her coffee. It's not yet noon, after all. "I hope I won't be taking up much of your time but I actually need your help with something."
"See, that's whats got me curious. What on earth and in the heavens could you possibly think I could help you with Ms. Strauss" Up from the stool she gets so she can swing around to behind the counter and the coffee pot there. A fresh pot not ten minutes old id taken up and the dark liquid poured into a generous mug.
It's placed on the counter where she is, a square napkin beneath to protect the bar while cream and sugar are put nearby.
"You know people, Abby, you have your ear to the ground and are far more in touch with certain circles than I am." There's no one in the bar right now, so Tracy isn't particularly concerned about talking about it right here and now. "I was wondering if you might be able to ask around to some of your contacts concerning…I know this sounds crazy but, Time travlers."
"There's… been a few, time travelers actually" Abigail offers. "Is there interest in a particular one?" Puzzlement takes up it's spot between her brows.
"Yes, but not one that I'm really at liberty to discuss." Tracy says, her mouth becoming a bit tight. "There's become some tension between the future version of this person and the current version. To the point where they're trying to undermine each other. I need to know how this sort of thing is…handled."
"Some might say a bullet to the head of one of them solves that issue. I'm not really in that circle so much anymore Tracy but-" Abigail frowns then leans forward. "Did you know that Nathan Petrelli can fly? And that it was his little brother who blew up midtown?"
Tracy sighs, looking downward. She doesn't like to discuss these sorts of things. Particularly not when it can come back and ruin her career just for hearing them. Sometimes, she wishes she'd never heard them. "Y-es," she says, slowly considering her words. "I know. Or at least have been told." There's no proof of any of it!
Abigail nods. "There's never any, that's life it seems. I can check with some people I know, but they're all having… issues right now, so I don't know how soon I could get an answer to you. Are you hoping someone else will…. Handle this issue with the dopplegangers?" Handle does and never will mean a bullet in the head to abigail. More like grab them, chat, and see what comes of it.
Sometimes what comes is a bullet to the head though.
Tracy shakes her head a bit. "I'm not asking to have someone swoop in and take care of it for me, but let's both be honest in the fact that this isn't my realm of expertise. And there isn't exactly an office for these sorts of problems, for my knowledge. I wouldn't mind talking to people myself, if that would help but…I can't imagine people are very chatty with a politically charged stranger."
"You'd be surprised who they talk with" Abigail murmurs. "I have someone that I can ask. I'll send him to you, you can meet him here, he has permission to use the back room, and you can come here, neutral ground to meet. Sound good? That way you can slip in and not be noticed and you can both talk in comfort"
Tracy nods her head. "I'd very much appreciate that, Abigail. Thank you very much." Not wanting to take up too much of the woman's time, she stands up, slinging her purse over her good shoulder. She doesn't mention that Abigail is welcome to come to her should she need anything - because she doesn't want too much trouble coming her way, but a nod of her head shows her gratitutde.
"You're welcome Ms. Strauss. I hope it'll solve your time travelling dilemma. Needless to say, no one needs ot know what I know, about the president yes?" THe coffee untouched is taken, poured into a styrofoam cup with a lid and passed over. "It's cold out there. At least this will give you some warmth. God bless"
Tracy reaches out with her good arm, taking the coffee. She nods her head in thanks once more, and heads out. She didn't answer Abby about the flying or the Peter Petrelli problems. They are problems. They should be addressed. Sitting on them like she is isn't good. But honestly she really doesn't know what else to do except try to save her own skin. Right now, that means silence.
