Participants:
| Scene Title | You've Got Me Shaking In My Boots |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Nadia gets Dante out of the house to tell him about her Flash Forward, and Dante promises to get her some professional help. |
| Date | July 11, 2010 |
Located in the Upper West Side, West Side Sushi is a small sushi bar and restaurant that caters towards a medium income though manages a more upscale environment. The decor is tasteful and modern, vibrant in the tone of wooden floors, reflective glass bars, tricky lighting fixtures and artwork on the walls. A winding bar occupies one side of the building, the other devoted to private, comfortable tables with booths and armchairs. A decent range of Japanese cuisine is offered, from light meals to proper dinners, with a focus on sushi of varying prices. A full range of liquor is also available, including sake.
It has a trendy kind of vibe that implies temporary success and limited lifespan, but while it's in its prime, it's a nice place to go, with a casual if still sophisticated ambience with prices that aren't out of reach of the common man but quality that doesn't guarantee it will be overlooked by the wealthier patron.
Ring ring ring! Dante's phone rings. Nadia is on the other line!
The day has been a long one. Thursdays mean absolutely no slowdown over at Company headquarters. And with a man who throws himself into work like Agent Lupinetti, it means it's no surprise that he's at his desk when his cellphone rings. Without bothering to check the number, his attention all completely focused on the papers he's filling out before him, Dante picks up the phone and barks out an exasperated. "This is Dante Lupinetti."
"Dante," says the familiar voice of Nadia. "Do you like sushi?" She apparently isn't bothered by the exasperated tone. Instead, the smile can be heard in the cheerful girl's voice. "You sound like you could use a chance to breathe, hmm?" Nadia is in her apartmentment, with her Corgi, Holmes (who happened to be at the vet last they met) flopped on her belly.
"Hello Nadia." As usual, Dante sounds completely unsurprised. He recognized her brief intake of breath before she spoke, without realizing he recognized it. Life as usual for Dante. "Sushi's alright." He tucks the phone against his shoulder, his pen scratching loudly at the papers over the phone. "Not really." His tie hangs loose around his neck and, should anyone actually see him, they'd likely guess that he's desperate for a break.
The girl can still be heard smiling over the phone. "Well, there's this awesome little sushi bar near my apartment, and I'm getting hungry. How about you take a break from whatever it is that has you sounding so exhausted and grumpy and grab some delicious sushi? Before you argue, you already know I won't take no for an answer." The corgi on her tummy offers a wuff of agreement.
"No thank you." Dante's voice is tight, clearly expressing signs of stress, and a little tiredness. "I'm busy." Always so laconic and to the point.
"Oh, come on. You sound stressed out and tired, and it's dinner time. You could use some sushi, some sake, and some relaxation, I can tell by your voice, mister all business all the time." The girl's voice, in contrast, is light and cheerful, and she's obviously not been put off by his immediate denial.
"I have dinner." A Cup O'Noodles, part of this balanced dinner. "I'm doing just fine, thank you." And the more he talks to her, the tighter his voice comes out. He's being put on edge. But he's too polite to just hang up on her.
A soft sigh, and then the girl speaks in a much softer, more soothing tone. "You're kinda mean sometimes, you know. Why don't you want to come out?" She can be heard fidgeting a bit, her dog's collar jingling as she pets him. "What's so wrong with relaxing every once in a while? It's bad for your health to work so much. Would it help if I threw in a massage to the offer? I'm pretty good at working out those obnoxious kinks, and I know you could use one…" She's really trying, here.
As she starts to lecture him, Dante heaves a low, frustrated sigh and the pen on the other side stops scratching. His stubble brushes against the microphone as he turns away from his work briefly. "Nadia, I. Am. Busy. I'm sorry if I ruined your dinner plans, and I'm sorry if I come off as mean, but I have work to do. Good night."
The girl quiets for a moment. "Well, what about when you're done with your work for the evening?" There's a moment of silence, then her voice sounds, a bit smaller. "Please?"
"That won't be until late." Dante's chair squeaks as he turns back to his desk, and she can hear his pen tapping against his desk. When her voice gets smaller, he snorts a little derisively. Then there's a clearing of his throat. "I'm sorry. Maybe there's someone at the park you can take out to dinner?"
"I can wait. I wasn't really hungry, I just wanted to see you. We ARE still friends, aren't we?" Then, he makes that last remark. Nadia makes a stuttering sound for a moment. "Excuse me?" She sounds…a bit offended, to say the least. Girls.
"Sure, we can still be friends." Dante sounds fairly noncommittal. He has a pitiful sounding girl distracting him from his work. He's definitely a little annoyed right now. He blinks at her stutter though, frowning and going over what he'd just said in his head. He's suddenly on thin ice… Why? "I said, maybe you could charm a guy in the park to going to dinner with you? You got a complete stranger to give you permission to sculpt him, and he's not one of the most friendly guys in the city."
There's a moment of eerie silence on the other end of the line, before the girl sighs. "You really made that sound like you were calling me a slut." She frowns. "And a random guy in the park isn't you. There's…a reason I stopped you. It's really, really important." By the tone of her voice, she's certainly not overexaggerating when she says this.
Pause… Going over his words once more… "No I didn't." Straight to the point, confident and unwavering. As she makes no sign of winding the conversation to a close, Dante leans forward onto his desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "And what is that reason?" he asks, his voice taking on a low growl.
"Glad you didn't, then." She pauses, thoughtful. "I'll tell you if you come out for sushi, or just some tea, once you're finished with your work for the night. That way, you can get back to your work, and I'll get to see you!" She's all cheer again, but something about it is halfhearted.
"If it's really that important, you can tell me now. Or send it to me in an email. I have to finish these reports before midnight, so I need to get back to work." As she speaks, Dante's growl grows louder until he cuts it off at the end. There's some quiet muttering and a creak of his chair as he sits back. When he speaks again, his words are slower, voice quieter and more controlled. "Why are you so insistent on us having dinner, Nadia? We've met twice, and had…" Pause and his voice drops as he whispers into his phone. "One evening of drunken sex. That doesn't even really qualify us as "close friends". It must be easy for you to make friends with people easier to drag out for late night sushi than me."
The girl is silent for a very long moment. "I had a dream about you, before I even met you, okay? When you walked through the park, I recognized you. I'm not willing to go into any more details on the phone." She's quiet for another long moment, and when she speaks again, she sounds like she's on the verge of tears. "Call me when you're done with your work." With a click, she hangs up.
Dante is silent on his end of the phone. All sounds have stopped as he sits up straight, listening with interest. Something tells him this isn't just a normal dream. Dammit, she's tapped into the curious part of him, the part that's still a detective who has a vested interest in hunting down facts. When she hangs up, he pulls the phone away from his ear, staring at it with a baffled frown. At length, he shrugs and tosses his phone aside before leaning back over his papers, getting back to work so he can finally get to bed at a decent time tonight.
Dante doesn't call Nadia back later that night. Or the next night. Saturday passes by without a single call from him. It isn't until the early afternoon hours of Sunday that her phone rings once more. It's finally him! Oh, happy day!
Nadia lets the phone ring until it ALMOST gets picked up by voicemail. Then, there's a click, and a slightly sullen-sounding, "Hello?"
"Nadia, it's Dante." The tiredness, the stress, the edge to his voice that she'd heard Thursday is gone. He sounds cooler, calmer, more collected. He sounds like the Dante she invited over to dinner to see the sculpture. "Do you still want to tell me about your dream?"
The girl certainly sounds less cheerful than she did on Thursday. "I don't know, are you going to start at least trying to be nice to me when I call you? Like, compromise or something if I want to meet up with you, by giving me a timeframe when you're not working instead of flat out saying no?" She's a girl, and she's had nearly three days to sulk on it. Luckily, her voice comes out calm, with just a bit of a hurt edge to it.
Nadia certainly sounds like she WANTS to say yes right now, but the stubborn part of her won't let him off without at least an apology…
"You called me when I was very busy and under a lot of stress. I tried to politely turn you down. You continued to press. You pissed me off." Nope, he doesn't sound regretful or apologetic at all. He talks quickly, levelly, professionally. She's hearing Agent Lupinetti right now, not Dante. "However, I'm sorry for upsetting you in return. Now, do you still want to tell me about your dream?"
The frown is almost audible. "And I was to know that you were at work at dinnertime how?" She sounds like she's almost going to get mad again…but then, he apologizes, and the tension from the other end of the line (mostly) dissapates. "Thank you. Yes, I do." Relief is audible in her voice…she really didn't want to not tell him about this.
"I told you that I was busy. I tried to be polite. Next time, I'll be clearer about when I don't have time for being stolen out for dinner." Annoyance is creeping into his tone again, starting to crack that professional shell. However, as she relaxes so does he. "Good. Where do you want to meet? I have to be at a briefing in two hours."
"Just…next time, be nicer about it. Give me a better time, and I'll happily not bother you when you're at work. Please." It sounds like that's all she's going to say on the matter, her tone signifying that any more talk on that subject is null and void. "I never got to eat my sushi. West Side Sushi, pretty close to my apartments."
She also doesn't sound horribly thrilled at the time limit, but she's doing her best to keep that muffled.
"I can't make any promises. I'm not a nice guy when I'm in a time crunch." No commitments there, it seems. And it sounds like Dante's annoyance is growing as well as she keeps asking for concessions from him. When she gives the address, his response is curt and short. "Fine. I'll be there in ten." Click.
Ten minutes later, Nadia is sitting at a table with a cup of tea and a glass of sake, drinking both alternatingly, with a less than thrilled look on her face as she stares at the door with a bit of a scowl, occasionally mumbling something under her breath in Arabic. She's having second thoughts, certainly; maybe it would be better to not tell him about her dream, just keep him out of her life. But that doesn't necessarily mean she can prevent the event she saw in her dream, does it?
Dante appears in the doorway ten minutes and change later, his typical trenchcoat and suit marking him as still on the job, at least in his mind. He spies Nadia right away and pauses in the threshold to eye her with bemusement. Then he approaches, skirting around chairs and patrons before slipping into a chair across from her. "You don't look very happy to see me," he observes. He doesn't smile, his voice doesn't flick upwards in a note of cheerfulness. His expression is placid, and his cool eyes are still intense as they look her over. The same intensity she can remember from their drunken tryst a few weeks back.
For the first few moments, she really doesn't look happy to see him. She just frowns at him, her arms crossed. But that intense look bring back flashes of memories, and her cheeks flush. For a moment, she fidgets, stuttering a few unintelligible phrases. Finally, she regains her equilibrium, nervously twirling your hair. "You're an asshole on the phone." She definitely doesn't mean it so much this time, avoiding his gaze as she squirms. Damn those good looks of his, making it impossible to stay angry. "…I ordered us some sushi, hope you don't mind."
Dante's lips quirk downwards briefly at Nadia's accusation. What do you say to that? He straightens a little, glancing to the front of the restaurant and then to the menus, should they still be laid out. "Good. What did you order?" A little small talk to begin with…
Nadia pulls one knee up to her chest, resting her chin on it as she peers across the table at the older man. "Two sashimi trays. My treat for being so aggravating." She fidgets again, her cheeks still colored bright red from the look that brought wonderful memories flooding back.
That gets a small quirk of Dante's lips and he starts to relax, getting comfortable in his seat. "Well, good to know that being aggravating gets me sushi then." He pulls his phone out of his pocket, flipping the switch to "vibrate" and setting it on the table between them. His well-trimmed fingers drum against the table, watching her expectantly.
Nadia's dark eyes trail his phone to the table, the girl going into one of those little trance-like states of hers as her mind settles on a deep thought process. A memory, perhaps? No, it's definitely a memory, and certainly not a pleasant one. Her brow furrows as she recalls a scene in her mind. When she finally looks up, her eyes glisten and she stares at Dante with a horribly sad, tormented look. Her mouth works for a moment, and she seems unable to find the words she's looking for.
Dante isn't used to being baffled, but as he watches Nadia's eyes tear up, he's definitely feeling like he's missing something. Even watching her face isn't giving him any clues. He looks down at his cellphone, back up at her… And edges the cellphone towards her experimentally, watching her expression. Is she going to cry more? Does she have a phobia of cellphones or something?
The girl's sad look turns puzzled for but a moment, then it's back to that same look. "So…so I had this weird dream before I met you…before I even knew you existed. I didn't ever hear your voice, or even get the chance to see your eyes in this dream…I almost didn't recognize you from the dream I had, at first." She fidgets, then, turning an intense gaze down to the table as she struggles against whatever powerful emotions are surging through her mind right now.
Dante's puzzled look deepens, mixing with intrigue as she goes into her experience. A note of importance in his head pings, and he reaches into his trenchcoat to pull out a notepad. "When was it that you had this dream?" he asks. There's the barest note of sympathy in his voice. Just as much as detectives are trained to give, but the overarching attitude he has is that of professionalism.
Nadia's face crinkles a bit as she thinks back, picking up a pair of chopsticks and fidgeting with them. "Uh…I think some time in the second week of June? The tenth, maybe. I was working on a sculpture and I just…passed out." She frowns up at Dante, still looking horribly saddened by whatever it is she is remembering. She seems heasitant to continue.
Dante scritches down a few quick marks on his notepad. He couldn't have marked down more than a few letters before he's looking back up at her, his gaze locking on hers as he leans back in his chair. He's all business, but this is nothing to worry about, is what his posture is saying. "Did you speak to anyone about this? Go to a hospital and get yourself checked out?"
The girl shakes her head slowly. "No…I just thought it was exhaustion or something. I'd been working pretty hard, so…" She shrugs quietly, her eyes turned down to the ground once more. "…It was a really bad dream, Dante." This is said in an almost hushed voice, the girl avoiding his gaze once more. It looks more and more like those tears are gettting closer and closer to the surface.
Tears schmears. Dante's on the job, and he's motoring along over all obstacles and pedestrians in the way. "Are you aware that a large number of people all over New York had the exact same experience? Passing out and having premonitions. Visions even, of some time in the future." A couple nearby looks up as Dante discusses this, and they go from their own conversation to listening intently. Their talking about the visions!
With a frown, Nadia turns her gaze up to Dante, quiet for a long moment, before shaking her head. "No…I mean…I'd heard, but…I don't know." She frowns. The eavesdropping couple is offered a large frown and an uncomfortable look, before she turns her eyes back to Dante. When she speaks, it's in a hushed tone, quiet enough so the couple can't quite make it out, but loud enough for Dante to hear. "I got scared…"
Dante sets the notepad down, leaning forward. He tries to look sympathetic, but he can't really get rid of that on-the-job attitude. "You weren't alone. Tell me what happened in your vision. Do you have any idea when the vision took place?"
More fidgeting comes from the girl, who peers quietly at Dante for a long moment. The sad look remains, something she can't seem to get rid of, herself. "It was in the afternoon, I think. I…I wasn't paying much attention to the time or the sky." She fidgets. "I woke up from a blackout or something, and the first thing I saw…was part of Staten Island, destroyed. The lighthouse…that was destroyed, too. It sunk into the ocean. I was on a platform." The couple is cast a nervous glance, though she speaks well below thir hearing range.
Then, she's looking back to Dante…and the tears slowly begin rolling down her cheeks. "And then I looked down, and you were there." She pauses for a moment, breathing a stuttering breath. Her voice goes even lower, to a whisper that Dante may have to strain to hear himself. "And you had been beaten and stabbed by rocks. And you were dead. I said your name, and shook you…but you were dead. And…and I was the one that did it." She falls silent, then, staring down at the table, still as a statue save for the tears.
The couple is conversing in hush tones now, stealing very interested glances to Nadia and Dante. Anyone who's had a Flash Forward is a minor celebrity these days. Dante leans forward, his eyes down on his notepad as he writes as fast and as thoroughly as he can, taking down her story. His face twitches in an expression of empathetic pain when she describes how he died, but he continues writing. When she's done talking, he keeps writing for a while…
Dante sets the notepad down, leaning forward. He tries to look sympathetic, but he can't really get rid of that on-the-job attitude. "You weren't alone. Tell me what happened in your vision. Do you have any idea when the vision took place?"
More fidgeting comes from the girl, who peers quietly at Dante for a long moment. The sad look remains, something she can't seem to get rid of, herself. "It was in the afternoon, I think. I…I wasn't paying much attention to the time or the sky." She fidgets. "I woke up from a blackout or something, and the first thing I saw…was part of Staten Island, destroyed. The lighthouse…that was destroyed, too. It sunk into the ocean. I was on a platform." The couple is cast a nervous glance, though she speaks well below thir hearing range.
Then, she's looking back to Dante…and the tears slowly begin rolling down her cheeks. "And then I looked down, and you were there." She pauses for a moment, breathing a stuttering breath. Her voice goes even lower, to a whisper that Dante may have to strain to hear himself. "And you had been beaten and stabbed by rocks. And you were dead. I said your name, and shook you…but you were dead. And…and I was the one that did it." She falls silent, then, staring down at the table, still as a statue save for the tears.
The couple is conversing in hush tones now, stealing very interested glances to Nadia and Dante. Anyone who's had a Flash Forward is a minor celebrity these days. Dante leans forward, his eyes down on his notepad as he writes as fast and as thoroughly as he can, taking down her story. His face twitches in an expression of empathetic pain when she describes how he died, but he continues writing. When she's done talking, he keeps writing for a while…
Nadia seems oblivious to the attention of the couple, staring down at the pad of paper that Dante writes on with fearful, unfocused, tear-stained eyes. Nothing else comes from the girl, except for more silent tears; she's doing an exemplary job of not making a scene, at least. What if he decides it better to avoid her? Probably for the best, if that's the case. Certainly not the most desired outcome possible in her eyes, though. Unfriendly as he can be, she still likes him.
Write write write write. … Dante glances up at Nadia for a moment. And writes some more. "First, the bad news," he says, loud enough that the couple near them takes interest again, "What you experienced is, if it's a similar phenomenon to what happened with many other people that day, most likely a glimpse into the future, as I've already said. The good news, however, is that the leading experts on this matter believe that any future we've seen is mutable." Is it true? Dante has no idea, but it's what he's been told to say to calm people down. "The events that transpired in your vision can be avoided." The woman listening in leans over and smacks the man's arm, looking smug, though her dinner-mate continues to look plenty skeptical. "Now," Dante continues, flashing the couple a brief look, "Have you visited a mental health professional about your experience?"
It takes a moment. Nadia wipes her eyes with that ever-present scarf, sniffing a few times as she listens to Dante. Slowly, a somewhat awed look forms on her face; she can't help but be a little bit amazed by this man. He's so calm and professional, almost constantly. There's also the fact that he's so calm after being told that she's had a possibly prophetic dream about him, in which he is dead and Staten Island has a chunk missing from it. Most people would at least flinch at that and avoid the hell out of her.
Finally, she pulls out of her trance, hugging herself with a small shiver. "N-no, I haven't…" She glances over to the couple, before looking back down the table, speaking in that quiet whisper again. "I don't want them to lock me away…"
Honestly? He's cursing up a storm in his head, and also having a mild anxiety attack. This girl who he barely even knows…she's going to /kill/ him?? Fucking hell, and he was happy to have just blacked out back then, that made things simpler! Outwardly, he's still as calm as need be to keep Nadia from freaking out as well.
The couple is talking amongst themselves again, so Dante is the only one who catches the last remark. He frowns, eyeing Nadia thoughtfully for just a moment before leaning forward and whispering back to her, "I'm going to refer you to a friend of mine. She works for the government, and has spoken with a few of the Flash Forward victims. I'm not sure she'll be willing to take your case, but she would be your best bet to work through your anxiety about what you saw. Do you mind if I pass on your contact information?"
Nadia hesitates, fidgeting. She glances quietly toward the couple, seeming to get quieter and quieter, now. Then, she looks back to Dante, apparently missing his question. "I don't want it to happen…I don't. Does…does know when these things are supposed to happen?" She shifts in her seat, rubbing her arms as if cold. Finally, she addresses Dante's question (or as good as he's going to get for now), staring down at the table. Quiet again so the couple can't hear, she asks, "Will they let me stay at Tier 2? What if I'm too dangerous even for that?"
"We're not sure, but we have some good, educated guesses." Which he's not sharing, apparently. Asshole. Leaning in, he sets his notepad down and links his fingers, tilting his head to try and look her in the eye. "Nadia? There are many ways you could avoid this future. One of the best ways to do this, and a way that will help you in the long run more than anything else, is if you let someone teach you to find your limits, and to control your powers. If you do visit them, you risk finding out you're more dangerous than you thought at first. If you don't…you risk hurting the people close to you, possibly killing them. As your vision predicts."
She wears a frown, but at least she's making eye contact now, her brow furrowed. She glances over to the couple for a moment, before turning back to Dante with a somewhat determined look on her face. Well, as determined as someone who is scared of themselves can be. She nods quietly, frowning. Frowns really don't suit her, she looks like a sad little lost puppy. "Then…then help me find someone to teach me how to find my limits…I don't want that dream to come true." She rubs her arms once more, as if cold. "If I am more dangerous than I though…they won't do anything to me, will they?"
Finally, there's the smallest quirk of a smile on Dante's face before he nods to Nadia, flipping his notebook closed and going to tuck it back in his jacket. "I'll do what I can. And I can promise you that they will keep your safety and welfare as top priority." Lies. Lying through his /teeth/! Sitting up, Dante brushes off his coat and glances to the kitchen with a light frown. "How long ago did you order the sushi?"
The girl tilts her head to one side, nodding. "Okay…I hope you're right." She still seems rather nervous, but greatly put at ease by Dante's words. She glances towards the kitchen, frowning. "About two minutes before you got here…wonder if they're catching the fish." She forces a small smile, which disappears as quickly as it appeared. "…How can you be so calm?"
"It's something you learn after a while," Dante says with a blase shrug, "Getting excited can get the blood pumping, but after a while you learn it's always better to stay focused and attentive. If one person in a group is freaking out, that's one too many, so I never want to add to that problem." He looks to the kitchen expectantly. Where's their food, people? Sheesh!
Finally, the food comes out, the waitress apologizing profusely. She looks upset and flustered, obviously just as mad as Dante about this. This is her tip money! Once the waitress is gone, Nadia stares at her food for a long moment. "Well…thanks, I guess." She spears a piece of sashimi with her chopsticks, dipping it into the soy sauce and popping it into her mouth. She chews thoughtfully, watching the man across the table. "…You're not terrified of me after that? You're just fine sitting across the table from me and eating sashimi?" She sounds amazed, still.
Foregoing the chopsticks completely (silly little Asian instruments), Dante picks up a fork and spears a piece of sashimi with it, turning it over critically before taking a bite. "Mmmm…well, if you're concerned about my well-being, we can be sure we don't see each other anymore. That would solve that problem." Honestly, he's pretty damn worried what might happen if he really pisses this girl off. But living with a psychopathic hemokinetic has set the freak-out bar pretty high.
A frown creases Nadia's brow, and she sighs, looking down at the sashimi and poking at it. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that. I mean…I wouldn't blame you if you did want to stop talking to me. But…that'd really suck. You're the first person I've ever told about my status. Not to mention…" An involuntary smile graces her features, accompanied by a blush, as she recalls. Then, with a shake of her head, she forces herself to be serious once more. "It was Staten Island…I saw the Lighthouse. I could just avoid it like the plague…?"
"That's probably the best idea, yes," Dante concedes with a nod, taking another bite of his sashimi. Always the pragmatist. He's sure to have plenty of detached, useful information for her as the night goes on.