Take Off Your Pants


abby3_icon.gif hiro2_icon.gif xiulan_icon.gif

Scene Title Take Off Your Pants
Synopsis Hiro gets the message, and wants Xiulan to take off her pants. Who knew Hello Kitty g-strings were Hiro's thing? But they're not. It's what he can't see that he's looking for. It's off on a magical adventure for Xiulan, but it's Abby who gets to stay behind and clean up.
Date June 15, 2009

Confucius Apartments - Xiulan's place.

Chicks, Booze and Ak-47s are a dangerous mix. Very dangerous. Although this time, fortunately, no one has gotten hurt. Unfortunately, the females are drunk as a pair of skunks and rather solidly passed out upon Xiulan's couch. Abby's hair is bright neon blue and she is clutching a bottle of vodka in one hand. Xiulan's hair is it's same ol' normal brown, but she has two empty bottles of scotch tucked into the cushion near hip. There is nail polish scattered all over the floor and the remains of what looks like a late night pizza feast. All in all, all is quiet for the time being. Fortunately, no psycho bad guys have burst through the door, besides Fedor, to menace them.

A foot gently steps on the carpet, nudging a pizza box aside with the toe of the boot it wears. A shadow falls across the girls where they lie, and Hiro Nakamura crouches in front of this scene, mere inches from the couch. His hair is short and he's wearing glasses. Gently he reaches out with a finger and pokes first Xiulan and then Abby on the forehead. "Wakey."

There's someone poking her. In her dream, there is. Deckard's poking at her on her head, and there's a mumble or two before blue eyes darker than her hair crack open. When did Deckard turn into a tiny Japanese man. She closes her eyes again, a deep breath as she shifts against Xiu again, head nodding up and down. "Xiu. There's a short Asian man. I think I drank too much."

The poke on Xiulan's forehead stirs her to emitting a sleepy little murmur of discontent and to clutching one of the scotch bottles a bit closer to her side. "Don't wanna go on the roof," she utters before shifting on the cushions and attempting to tuck bare feet under her butt. Course, Abby's talking and that isn't making sleeping any easier. Particularly when what she is saying is annoyingly obvious. "Of course there is an Asian man, it's Chinatown." Course, even drunk her mind registers Abby's statement and self-preservation urges her into action. Fortunately, she's still pretty drunk, so her spring to action doesn't result in more then her attempting to jump off the couch for the AK-47 only to land on her rump wedged between the wall and the couch back. "….ow," she whines. "I hit my head." Good thing she's wearing shorts, or it'd definitely be an NC-17 log.

Hiro stands up straight and says in a voice that sounds like an outside voice, "Get your things. We're going. You'll want to take clothes. Not too modern. Try to imagine what Americans liked wearing in the seventies." He leans where he stands to kind of look over and peek at Xiulan, eyebrows raised just a hair. Then he stands akimbo and looks at Abby. "You're still drunk, aren't you?"

"It's.. been a long strange dangerous night" When she pries her eyes open fully. She's a little less than Xiulan due to not drinking as much and Deckard with her ability when he took care of her wrist. "Hiro!" It clicks now who it is and Abby scrambles to hang over the side of the couch, face close to Xiu's. "It's Hiro! Magnes got him!"

"….Hiro?" Xiulan blinks as she peers up at him from her spot behind the couch. "You cut your hair. I like it." Grimacing at the volume he opts for using, she makes a 'shushing' motion with one had, a grunt escaping her lips as she twists onto her side and crawls, albeit with difficulty, out from behind the couch. "Wait… the 70s?" Tilting her chin up from her hands and knees position, she groans in response to Abby's crow, her face squinching up at the vertigo caused by the blue haired woman being right up to her face. "I see that. We'll have to bake him cookies." Magnes? Hiro? Hard to say, who. Whichever the case, Xiu is dragging herself to her feet, one hand shooting out to brace against the couch to keep her from swaying. "I'm not drunk," she insists unconvincingly.

Hiro sighs and says with calm patience, "I think you're both drunk. It's okay." He pushes his glasses up his nose with the reflexive motion of anyone who's had to wear them for years and then turns to head into the kitchen. "Did you raid the kitchen too much? I was hoping you'd have some toaster strudels or waffles or something…" He doesn't have that sword on him, and he's not all in black like he was last time either of these young ladies saw him. Instead he's wearing a gray raincoat, kind of noir-detective chic.

"Uhhmm.. no. NO, we have Pizza. Or.. I dunno what Xiu eats for breakfast. Seahorse on a stick?" Abby's grinning like a dork. "I got no cinnamon buns, i'm sorry. Next time!" She's trying to straighten herself out a bit, plucking a pepperoni from her hip and tossing it to the box. "You saw Helena?"

"There's microwave pastries in the freezer," Xiulan calls as she watches Hiro's back. Blinking once, she slants a glance at Abby and arches a brow. "He's raiding the kitchen." Yes, he's raiding the kitchen. "There should still be pizza," is offered a tad belatedly. Clothes. "You did say the 70s, yes?" Um. She's not real clear on how people dressed in the seventies, actually. She does, however, jeans and numerous shirts, so that will have to do. "Right," is breathed as she turns on her heel and pads toward her bedroom. "Pack clothing." And put some on, that'd be a nice start. Not, mind you, that she's naked, but she is wearing shorts and a sleepshirt with 'Hello, Kitty' on it.

Seahorse on a stick. Why yes, there is some. It's in the fridge. "I'll be out shortly," she murmurs. Course, she snags the AK-47 on the way, just in case. "Does he know what is going on?" The question is called to Abby, since well… She does, kinda.

"Just try to take one bag of stuff. Enough you can carry it easy. Nothing with any dates on it. You're might have to spy on the Company and they can be tricky." At that point Hiro's in the kitchen digging around in the freezer. Ah! Pastries. Woohoo! "Also try to wake up. I have to explain some things before we go."

"I don't have my things here. I need to go home to get it" Abby points out. Try to wake up. While Xiulan heads off to her bedroom, the blue haired baptist shuffles into the kitchen so that she can start making coffee. Coffee, water, Advil. Stuff that will help them wake up. "Spy on the company?" and he's avoiding the question about Helena. "How's Helena? Did whatever she have do the trick? You can work your time stuff, voodoo.. oh those look so good… Can I have one when your done making them?"

Great, more spying. That's just about Xiulan's favorite thing. NOT. She does, however, get dressed, simple black jeans, combat boots, a white button up shirt with a black and white pinstripe vest. Clothing, of various sorts is shoved into a knapsack along with a hair brush, toothpaste and a toothbrush. Both the bag, and the AK-47, are dumped on the couch as she pads back out and scrubs one hand over her face. "Who are we spying on, again?" Who is Helena? What needs to be explained? Bah. Flopping in a chair, Xiu kicks her legs up, booted feet landing on the coffee table with a *thumpthump*.

"The answer to your question is no. I haven't seen Helena for a while. But also from your perspective I'm from the future so, heh," Hiro grins and looks over his shoulder after putting the pastries in the microwave, "I'm not answering those sorts of questions." He steps back from the oven and crosses his arms. "You don't have to spy on anyone, but Kimiko and my other self are working on a very important mission right now. You could help them, or not. I want you to give Kimiko a message for me when you see her."

"Wait.. you didn't… see Helena" Abby looks over towards the doorway when there's the thud of Xiulan's feet and the other woman is dressed. The former blonde rubs at her face, confused. "Future you… other you How did you get.. your gift back? Teo said that Helena had someone who could do it. If you haven't seen Hel… Wait, I'm not gonna understand anyways am I, so I'm better off… not.. trying, I'm getting the pea's." Abby shuffles over to the freezer, opening it to grab the peas that she'd chucked in earlier.

"Not helping would be rude," Xiulan notes practically. "I try not to be rude if I can help it, Mister Nakamura. Still, I don't know what company you are talking about." See, she's really new to all this espionage stuff. "Really, the -only- thing I know for certain is that Arthur Petrelli apparently wants to eat my face." Well, not really. But, in a round about sorta way. Kinda. "I'm really sorry we had to pull you away from whatever you are doing," she sighs. "But apparently Petrelli can find anyone anywhere in the world. So." So she has to be out of the world, so to speak.

"It's no problem." says Hiro casually, watching the seconds tick by on the microwave with no little bit of amusement. His stock in trade, time. And space. Without looking at Abby he says, "I took my power back without Helena's help. It turns out I have more friends than I know." One of those little cryptic remarks. That's another stock in trade you get with time travelers, at least the ones who think it's important to be truthful as well as discrete. "Leave that gun here, please? It'll cause more problems than it solves." He gets out of Abby's way so she can get her peas. "Also, no leaving the apartment. Too late! I'm here. If you need something you don't have we'll just get you something new. Probably new clothes or something in that time period. You'll have fun with it, you'll see."

Hiro's not making sense, but he's here. and… Abby's not going to complain. "Xiu has clothes, I don't I just have…" her jeans and one of Xiu's hello kitty shirts too. The bag of peas are wrapped around her wrist. Pea's accomplished, it's now coffee time. "Thank you for coming? It's appreciated. I don't want Xiu to die. I like her too much. Plus… well, I like her too much"

Slanting a glance at the AK-47, Xiu exhales a sigh of relief, her shoulders rising and falling in an easy shrug. "I'm good with that." It's heavy and awkward and she doesn't really know how to use it anyways. So. She'd rather not die, too. Course, honestly? She's not really sure that she's in any real danger. Seriously, what are the chances that any of the Petrelli's will ever hear her name? Slim and none. But everyone is freaking out about it, and that -is- the sort of thing that attracts attention. So. "So…."

The microwave goes Ding! and Hiro opens it, taking the pastries out and offering one to Abby. "It's hot." he warns. Normally this would be unnecessary, but Abby seems to be cognitively impaired at the moment. The warning seemed prudent to Hiro. He walks past her and toward Xiulan, looking her up and down. Squares off with her. Takes a bite of his pastry, and says, "Take off your pants."

Xiulan says "…"

A paper towel is in Abby's hand, and she clutches the breakfast pastry to her, carefully nibbling on the corner of it as she follows Hiro out, the Asian man dispensing order to… take off her pants…? "Hiro!"

"No. Really. Pants." Hiro says, not bothering to acknowledge the outrageousness of what he's asking. "I swear there's a point to it." He glances back at Abby and then at Xiu expectantly.

"You are serious…" He's serious. Slanting a glance at Abby, Xiulan quirks a brow, although there is a hint of something in her eyes. Oh yes, she's got a secret alright. Pursing her lips, her boots slip off the table and she leans forward to unlace them and tug them off. "I cannot see any point to my taking off my pants," she notes as she rolls to her feet and undoes her jeans. Drawing them down, she shimmies them off her legs, folding them neatly in half before draping them over her arm. "Happy?" Hey, look, 'Hello, Kitty' G-string. Now, what is not seen is the tattoo on her thigh the tones of which perfectly match the colors of her own flesh. Oh, it's there alright, but it's not going to be so easy to spot as that. Xiu, however, is watching Hiro's face rather intently, her lips pursed in a faint press. "This secret is going to stay Richard's until he's ready to share it." If nothing else, she is intensely loyal.

She's never seen a person in a g-string. Or well, without other clothing on. There's a squeak and Abigail's turning around, back to the other two. I did not seeeee that!!!! The toaster pastry is still being nibbled, though there's flushed cheeks.

Perhaps to his credit Hiro isn't ogling Xiu for the perversion of it. Actually he seems to handle the whole thing academically. He looks specifically at Xiulan's thigh and nods his head. "That's what I thought. Thanks, Xiu. I'm sorry if that was an uncomfortable thing to ask, but I had to be sure I'm in the right dimension and you're the right Xiulan. Who else knows you have it?"

Abigail raises her hand, peas sliding down her arm when Hiro asks who knows if Xiulan has it. She knows Xiulan has something now. And on her body. "Tattoo?"

"You know," Xiulan notes frankly. "It is very disconcerting when you do that, Mister Nakamura. The /only/ person who knows what I have, besides you, apparently, is Richard. And I would very much like to keep it that way." Because the alternative is vastly unpleasant to her way of thinking. Pants still over her arm, she does arch one brow before adding. "I am assuming that in the time you come from there is no danger of Arthur Petrelli finding out you know where it is." She'd /really/ hate to have to shoot Hiro after all. It is around about that point that she goes about the business of pulling her jeans back on. "I can't tell you that, Abigail, you know that." Because again, it's dangerous knowledge. Zipping her jeans up, she slants a glance at Hiro asks rather bluntly. "How did you know?"

Hiro shakes his head and munches pastry. "Mm. Really shouldn't explain. But no secret stays secret forever. You'd be surprised how easy it is to find out things if you have the time. You can um, put your pants back on please." Because it's hard to talk to a girl after you've seen the non-sexual thing you were hoping to see but it's being outshone by the radiance of its surroundings. He busies himself looking to Abby instead. "Don't bother her about it. Xiu's a good person and she needs to be protected. Sometimes we can't share the secrets we keep, because they're not ours."

Oh right! Deadly secret. Hiro's comment only rankles Abby though, the pastry looked at and then over her shoulder at him. "I wasn't. Of course she's a good person. I'm here protecting her aren't I?" She points out. She knows about not sharing secrets that aren't hers. she did keep Sal's and Teo's. There's a point scowl and a hurt look on the blue bird of religiousness's face.

Heh. No, it is definitely not Xiu's secret, it's Richard's. Course, Richard stole it from Hiro's father, but still, that's just semantics. "I appreciate the understanding," she murmurs as she drops back down in the chair and goes about the business of pulling on and re-lacing her boots. Once she's completely redress, she pushes back to her feet, runs her hands through her hair and reaches for her knapsack. "So, can we go? Cause frankly, I'd rather not have to repeat the striptease for Arthur Petrelli." Or any of his cronies, for that matter. She does, however, snag her wallet and stuff it in her back pocket. Her IDs and the money will all be nicely period once she gets where she's going. The good thing about her ability? She can go to the seventies and still have the proper currency. She's a good person. Heh. Does no one recall she's Triad? Course, she is still pretty good, relatively speaking. "So, we're leaving, right? Little trip? Message for your sister… You know, lets make with the running from the big bad wolf?"

Hiro says nothing, simply nods toward the front door. "After you." he says cryptically. "Tell Kimiko that I love her."

"That's it?" Glancing over her shoulder as she steps toward the door, Xiulan arches a brow as she regards Hiro in confusion. "Don't you think she probably knows that already?" Course, she does grab her keys out of habit before stepping out of the apartment.

There's a quick moment in which Abigail looks to the coffee pot, and they're leaving. It's pressed off, the blue haired woman hopping around to gather her things up. Leather jacket, messenger bag, bag of pea's, hopping through the door with her shoes, pastry in mouth to the vista waiting beyond. "wait for me" Muffled through the cherry filled pastry. Only when she jumps through, She's not with Xiu. She's in Xiulan's hallway, looking this way and that, confusion on her face. A few little hops in place and she's looking through the doorway to Xiu's apartment and looking like a confused drunk blue haired girl, frowning around her toaster strudel. Looks like she's not mean to go.

It's a lone skinny woman who hops back into Xiu's apartment and closes the door with a sigh and flops onto the couch with her peas.


The world on the other side of that door is a very different place. Hiro himself just vanishes, gone the moment that door opens. The air is hot, dry, and bright. The sun beats down on dirt and blacktop highway, and the cars parked all around what is quickly realized to be a parking lot are mostly American, not a single Toyota or Honda among them. There's a Datsun though. Distantly the sounds of music more appropriate to the 60's or 70's plays, what people in the 2000's would call "oldies".

There's a motel and it's next to a diner. Nobody seems to give the Asian girl any funny looks, though there ARE people here. Some of them are in their Sunday best, because it is, after all, Sunday. That can be seen from a newspaper at a stand outside the diner, as well as the date. And it is not the 2000's anymore/yet.

The door to the diner opens up and out walks a very familiar Asian man, this time wearing cheap sunglasses and with long hair tied back in a ponytail. He's dressed in an off-white frock of a clinical orderly and has a paper sack in hand, probably of leftovers from the diner. He stops short when he sees Xiulan and slowly removes his sunglasses to squint at her. "Did I do this?" he asks uncertainly.

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