Up On The Table


kaylee2_icon.gif peter7_icon.gif

Scene Title Up On The Table
Synopsis Finally arriving home after a visit to Wendy's house, Peter comes to realize just how good his life has become.
Date March 1, 2010

Lower East Side

Peter's Apartment

Snow is falling lightly outside, the window misted slightly from the difference of temperature inside and out, making the glass glow oddly from the lights outside. Inside, the apartment is nice and warm, a comfortable temperature, enjoyed by the sole occupant who is occupying the couch illuminated by the television.

An open box of Chinese food held in one hand, a fork — she never did get a hang of those chopsticks much to Adam's dismay — paws through the contents of some garlic chicken and mushrooms. Socked feet, are propped on the coffee table in front of her, ankles crossed, toes wiggling a bit as she stabs another mushroom. She's wearing her soft knit maroon sweater, a favorite of hers with it's fuzzy yarns used to make it, and a somewhat baggy pair of jeans. Her hair is pulled back from her face and held loosely by a scrunchie to keep it out of the food.

The only other lighting on, in the apartment, is in the kitchen over the stove, casting soft light across the counter were a bag sits near from one of the local Chinese food places. They had another date night planned, since that night she had been over nightly, tonight would consist of sitting on the couch, watching a movie, and her attempting to cook for him. At least she was thoughtful enough to order food when it was apparent he was going to be late, sparing him from even having to deal with her trying to cook.

At the sounds of a key in the lock and the familiar sensation of Peter's buzzing thoughts beyond the door, Kaylee pauses mid bite and drops her fork into to the box, while pulling her eyes off the local news cast. Feet slide off the coffee table and she sits up from where she's slouched, rather conscious about her appearance since that night they danced.

Tired is the first thing that is clearly something Peter Petrelli is on the way in, sore being a close second. As soon as he's through the door and into the apartment, there's a furrowing of his brows and a dark-eyed look out from the doorway to the sofa, then over to the television. "Hey," Peter so eloquently manages as he wiggles his key out of the lock and slides the door shut with one foot. "I am so glad you ordered takeout," he admits with a toss of keys down onto the table by the door, already starting to unzip his paramedic jacket, "because I'm way too tired to cook or go out tonight."

Not quite yet aware of what's being shown on the television, Peter rolls his jacket off of his shoulders, slinging it over the coat rack before sliding off his shoes and making his way across the living room towards the sofa. His direct route to the couch comes with a halt as he catches the press conference on the television, eyes darting to the slow crawl of the ticker at the bottom of the screen.

H5N10 Virus Outbreak, is this an Evolved plague?

Breath hitching in the back of his throat, Peter turns a worried look over to Kaylee, brows scrunched together before his eyes close, head shakes and he just breathes out a frustrated sigh. Moving over to the television, Peter clicks off the power button and cracks a smile. "I heard enough of that at work today…" Peter's voice is a bit strained as he turns around, making his way over to the now dimly illuminated sofa. "I wouldn't worry about it, I don't think it's going to be nearly as big a deal as the media's making it out to be." From alarmist to dismissive, in one year's time.

"Hey ah…" Peter's quick to change the subject as he settles down on the leather sofa with a creak of the upholstery, "do you know a woman named Wendy Hunter? About your age, dark hair, kind've— lanky?" One brow creeps up as Peter says that, sinking into the sofa and reaching out to string an arm around Kaylee's shoulders, drawing her — and the takeout box — over in one fell swoop. The electric tingle in the back of his neck and the buzzing fuzz in the back of his mind is clearly what Wendy was telling him about.

"Hey.." Is offered softly as she takes in his tired appearance. "Once I realized you might be running late, I figured I better spare you." A soft smile tugging at her lips, "Wendy?" There is a small roll of her eyes, but in a good natured way, letting herself be pulled closer, easing down enough to fit under his arm and along his side, the box offered up.

"She and I work together at a bookstore on Roosevelt island." Fingers dip into the box quickly to snatch out a mushroom and pop it in her mouth, sucking the sauce off her fingers before continuing. "She's odd, but rather amusing, especially when she can't quit touching anyone who might have some sort of ability." There is a touch of exasperation at that. "I like her enough… odd or not.." Kaylee's head tilts to one side, arching a brow.

"Why? Wait…. let me guess.. she touched you?" There is a barely contained chuckle when she asked that question.

"It was mutual," Peter admits as he takes the form out of the box with his free hand, letting Kaylee hold it up for him as he forks around inside, pawing thorugh the box to skewer a few pieces of chicken successively. "I mean— " There's an immediate jerk of Peter's eyes over to Kaylee, "C— Completely platonic— " his lips creep up into an awkward smile followed by a croak of a laugh. "I have her power!" He blurts out, as if that somehow makes this all perfectly better again. "The— detection— thing."

Brows raised and head ducked down with a grimace, Peter puts a fork-full of chicken in his mouth instead of his foot. The time it takes for him to eat gives him a moment to consider a better way not to look like an ass. "I— she fainted at the gala, remember? Actually, I'm not sure if you were around when that happened, there was so much going on. I went to check up on her today, and— you know— borrow her ability." Peter's lips creep up into a smile, fingers trailing up the back of Kaylee's neck.

"Uh huh…" It takes everything to keep a straight face, as she watches Peter put that foot in his mouth figuratively speaking. Biting her lip, until she is pretty sure she's not going to laugh, she finally adds rather ominously, "I'll make sure to mention it next time our shifts over lap, since I go back to work tomorrow. I had to take off time to help with some…." She trails off a bit, knowing how he'd like to avoid talk about certain activities. Her brows furrow a bit, a small amused smile as she simply says, "… things."

"Anyhow, yeah I remember her laying there on one of the benches." Kaylee admits with a slow nod of her head, only to duck her head a bit at the fingers on her neck. She seems rather content to sit there in the mostly dark apartment being the food holder, a moment in time where there is nothing but them.

She could really get use to this.

The thought makes her brows furrow slightly in a sudden frown and slowly she sits up, handing off the container. "Um.. there is orange chicken.. and some broccoli beef in there. Want me to grab one or the other.. or even both. could grab you something to drink." She offers him a small smile, inching to the edge of the couch ready to get up and get the food.

Smiling, Peter puts the fork down in the carton and stares up at Kaylee for a moment before leaning forward and setting the box down on the coffee table. "I had a late lunch," Peter admits with a smile, leaning to the side and wrapping one arm around Kaylee's midsection, dragging her back over across the couch and pulling her half into his lap, one arm cradled behind her back and the other aorund her waist. Snorting out a laugh, Peter leans in and lightly presses his nose and lips to her forehead. The affectionate touch lingers for a moment before he leans back, one brow raised.

"You know I think I understand why Wendy's so fascinated with telepaths," Peter admits with a lopsides smile, trailing his fingers along Kaylee's side. "It's like… a static buzz in the back of my head, almost like being light-headed, whenever I'm in contact with you." A smile turns to a grin, "Not really a difficult thing to have to want to do of course. The ah…" he awkwardly laughs, "the contact thing…"

Pulled back close again, Kaylee forces herself to relax, which isn't too hard to do, her side settling against his chest. An arm slips behind his neck for support, while the fingers of her other hand, play lightly with a small wrinkle of fabric on his shirt.

The touch of his lips against her forehead makes her eyes drift shut, a content sigh escaping as she leans her head there for a moment. He can't see the twist of her lips into a mischievous smile, followed by a rather coy question. "Sure your not just looking for an excuse to get your hands on me, Mr. Petrelli?" The chuckle that follows is soft, as her head tilts up slowly so that she can look at him with that impish glint in her eyes, clearly the telepath is teasing him.

Leaning close, she brushes a feather light kiss against his cheek, another chuckle escaping her. "Sorry, I couldn't resist."

"Do— I need an excuse?" The question is wondered aloud with all sincerity from Peter, even if all sincerity is still feigned. His lips creep up into a smirk that he can't quite contain. Though for all that he jokes, there's been considerable restraint shown on his part. This, here, is about as close to intimate as the pair have managed in the short time they've been together. "So, I meant to ask you something more important…" Peter admits with a quirk of one brow, head tilted to the side.

"Exactly how long do you have to practice to be called 'good' at bartop dancing?" Now he's teasing her, and Peter's broad grin comes with a barely held in laugh and a squeeze of his arm around Kaylee's waist. "See, my ambulance driver happens to own Old Lucy's, and I found out a certain someone used to work for her?" Peter's dark brows go up, lips remain plucked high into that smile at the corners. "I knew you could dance but that— that sounds like an art." He's going to get himself in so much trouble.

Her head jerks back a bit so she can stare at him for a long moment, brows lift up on her head looking rather surprised. "How….?" She starts, but then when the source is revealed, Kaylee can't help but give a short laugh, head falling back briefly, before grinning at him as it lifts again. "Oh geez. Abby's been telling you about my exploits? She tell you when I visit I still occasionally get up there." She grins like a girl who knows she's been naughty.

"Hey…" Kaylee starts matter of factly, waving a hand in a somewhat dismissive gesture. "Could have been worse, I could have been working at a place like Burlesque." Chin tilting up a bit, looking a touch smug as she adds after a beat, "But I imagine I'd give one hell of a lap dance all those years of dance classes. I'm sure Logan would be happy to give me a job there if I'm desperate."

Probably not exactly the reaction he expected.

Well that's— an answer. Peter's eyes go wide at the explanation from Kaylee, followed by a blown out laugh that comes somewhat exasperatedly from the paramedic. Laughing and smiling all the while, Peter shakes his head and toothily grins while trying to exactly process what Kaylee'd just explained to him. Of course, he's also thankful for the dim lighting in the apartment hiding the shade of rouge that his face has taken on in the consideration of that.

"I call your bluff," Peter states succinctly, head tipping forward into a nod. "I don't think you have it in you to still dance…" Dark brows go up, and Peter nods his head towards that wood coffee table just beyond the sofa. His head crooks to the side, smile grows, and that arm around Kaylee's waist relaxes as if to let her go. "Prove me wrong?" He invites with a lopsided smile, leaning back on the sofa as he makes eyes between Kaylee and the table, tauntingly.

Nathan would be so eminently proud.

It's Kaylee's turn to widen her eyes at Peter, as the game being play ratchets up a notch. Her head slowly turns to follow his gaze to the coffee table, "Right now.. this minute?" She suddenly sounds a touch uncertain, teeth catch her lower lip for a moment, as she considers. "Really… really certain you want to go there?"

Even as she asks, eyes watch him out of the corner of her eyes coyly, She brings her feet close enough she can hook her socks off her feet. One at a time, each dropped on the floor. "Think hard on that…" She says, that wicked twist of her lips returning slowly as she starts to slide off his lap, shifting over to sit on the edge of the table, brows lifting as if giving him a chance to change his mind.

Feigning thought is a hard thing to do, pretending to look like you're seriously considering something without making absurd pantomimes is just outside of Peter's capacity to perform at this hour of night. So, with one hand on his chin and eyes alight to the ceiling, he looks like a complete goon. After a heavy sigh is expelled, Peter turns his attention back to Kaylee where she sits on the edge of the table, one brow raised. "I think…" one side of his mouth creeps up into a smile. "…that you're too shy to."

Peter's degree is in medicine, not in psychology, so his rather transparent attempts at reverse psychology are just that— transparent. Even if he's grinning like an idiot, he can't help but show just how genuine that smile is. When was the last time he had time to be happy? When was the last time he allowed himself to get close to someone he wasn't afraid he was going to hurt or break? When was the last time he felt this content?

For the barest of moments, as Peter leans back on that couch and folds his hands on his lap, brows lifted expectantly as he gives an encouraging nod towards Kaylee, Peter thinks that just maybe things will work out fine after all.

"Now get up on that table…" he says with a crooked smile, "or admit defeat."

You're going to regret it.

Though somewhat hollow and tinny, there is still that teasing sing song quality to the words that ghost through his mind. If he's grinning like and idiot, Kaylee is probably right there with him, whoever knew there could be this much satisfaction in just letting things happen as they will. She's happy, truly happy.

Twisting her body to bring her feet up on the table, Kaylee eyes the man on the couch as she rises to her feet. "I'll never admit defeat." She declares defiantly, a hand reaching up to pull the hair tie out and tossing it on the couch next to him.

Taking a deep breath Kaylee's eyes drift shut as she concentrates on what's she's doing, without music the telepath is a touch uncertain, the roll of hips, bending of knees, flowing movement of her entire body, all innocent enough as she would have done at the bar. Then her eyes slowly open, the color of them lost in the shadow of the apartment, but the look in them is not lost.

Almost as if she's been holding back, her movements take on more certainty, smoothing out into something more sensual, the way her hands travel up and into her long hair, some of the long lengths falling across her face. The sway and twist of her hips as her knees bend low, a seductive smile sent to Peter, eyes drifting over him, before just as smoothly she straightens. No, she's not dancing like she would at Old Lucy's, this just a private dance for the man on the couch. Eyes drifting shut again, teeth toying with her lower lip as she concentrates, the whole of the tables surface is used as she proves that yes… young woman still has the moves, though they may not be perfect without music.

Her voice is somewhat breathless as she asks, "Have yet proven you wrong?" The question is innocent even if her dancing is not. "Or you going to make me dance all night?" When a turn brings her around, she gives him a grin, clearly enjoying their little game.

Distracted from whatever the terms were for their game they were playing, Peter's wholly lost in what's happening on the table in front of him. Lips part to maybe form words, or smile, but there's really no reaching either of those things, just an awkwardly chuffed out breath as Peter sits forward, forearms resting on his knees, and manages a somewhat breathless laugh as he smooths one hand down over his mouth. Brows raised, high, Peter slowly moves to stand up, and with a good two feet of height from where she stands on the table, Kaylee towers over Peter.

"You…" Peter's not even sure what he was going to say halfway through saying it. "You… ah— you win." Dark eyes wander up and down Kaylee, and Peter's smile finally returns, far more genuine than before and less teasing as he wraps his arms around the blonde's waist, lifting her up off of the table and turning her around in the air before settling her back down on her feet. Peter's arms stay firmly held around Kaylee, his forehead rested against hers, the bridge of his nose lined with her own, brows together, eyes blurry and unfocused from proximity.

"Didn't regret it…" Peter breathes out with a smile, giving a light nudge of his nose to Kaylee's befpre pressing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. Her lower lip is plucked at when he withdraws, and Peter's arms around Kaylee pull her closer, even as he's walking her away from the table, away from the sofa, and more pointedly towards the french doors leading into his room.

When was the last time Peter actually felt happy? It's harder to say if he's ever been this happy at all before in his life.

No, he doesn't regret this.

Not yet, at least.

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