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Title: Nathan Petrelli's Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day
(With apologies to Judith Viorst)
Rating: PG for Petrelli abuse
Genre: Humor
Characters: Nathan and a few guest stars
Warnings: Petrelli abuse, and a small dig at a certain right-wing pundit
Summary: Oh, Nathan. Please forgive me for this.
Nathan Petrelli's Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day
(With apologies to Judith Viorst)
There are many pleasant things to which one can wake in the morning. Birdsong. The voice of a loved one. Sunlight. The smell of pancakes wafting up from below.
Angela Petrelli's face is not one of those things.
"What the? Ma..." Nathan rolled over, attempted to hide in his pillows, failed miserably, and groaned. "Don't do that to a guy in the morning."
"Nathan," she said gravely. "Can you be the one we need?"
He blinked and sat up. "Whaa-a-t?"
"You are the one we have been waiting for," she said. "You need to see this through, Nathan. Make me proud."
Ten minutes later, Nathan was on his hands and knees fixing the bathroom plumbing. He could tell already that this was going to be a bad day.
Peter had eaten all the waffles by the time he got downstairs.
"You smell like a toilet," he said, waving a hand in front of his nose.
"Yeah, thanks," Nathan muttered. "Pete, you free for lunch today? I gotta late morning booking on CNN but I can fly back in time. Wanted to discuss THAT with you." THAT being their Ultra Top Secret Plan to Take Down the Company, Piss Off the Old People, and "Out" Superpowered Humans. It was Ultra Top Secret, and also Totally Awesome. Once Nathan had nixed Peter's idea of buying matching red and blue outfits and doing pairs skating fifty feet above Rockefeller Center, that is.
"Can't," Peter said through a face full of waffles. "Promised Hiro I'd travel through time with him and try to prevent something awful from happening that's surely going to happen if we don't travel through time."
"I can make it to lunch and a time-traveler can't," Nathan muttered. "That's great. This is shaping up to be a very bad day."
CNN had locked Nathan in the "debate dungeon." This basically meant that he was supposed to face off against some pundit from the opposite side of the aisle and argue about the latest political nothing-story. It was infuriating, but after nearly dying, he had suddenly gained national attention, and why should he refuse it?
Because it would mean he had a chance of escaping alive, he thought in a panic as he saw the familiar face he'd be picking a slap-fight with. "Niki?"
"Not quite," said the blonde with a catty smile, tossing her hair.
"Jessica, then?"
"Old news," she said, looking bored.
"Gina?!?"
"Actually," she said, blowing a kiss at him, "I'm Niki's fifteenth alter ego, the knee-jerk right-wing pundit Fran Boulter. And if you disagree with me in this segment, I'll kick your teeth in."
Nathan sighed. This was truly a no-good, very bad day.
His cell phone rang on the way back from (solo, sob) lunch.
"Petrelli, it's Parkman. Got a few minutes?"
All right. A chance to discuss the Top Secret And Utterly Awesome Plan. Maybe this day would look up after all. "Sure, what's going on?"
"Well, we bought these sofa chairs, and they look like they'll fit through the fire escape doorway, but the stairwell's too narrow..."
Oh. Never mind. "What part of not a cargo jet did you not understand!?"
"Come on, Nathan. They're not as heavy as I am."
"An elephant is lighter than you, Parkman. Have I mentioned I'm having a horrible, no-good, very bad day?"
Two sweat-soaked flights (and not of stairs) later, he stood panting in the tiny apartment.
"So I can call you if we decide to get that sofabed, right?"
"Dry up and die," Nathan snapped. "Next time call the telekinetic brother, OK? When he's done traveling through time with the Nakamura kid, I'm sure he'd be happy to help you."
"He's not traveling through time," said a chipper voice across the room.
"Wha-a?" Nathan raised and eyebrow.
"He's at a bar on 43rd street," Molly said, smiling broadly. "With some girl. Drinking beer."
Nathan wondered briefly about the concept of justifiable fratricide. It was now officially a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.
"Hey, Nathan. I just got back."
Nathan looked up from his magazine and gave Peter the Look of Death. Peter stumbled back a few steps. "Hey, what's that for? I thought you'd want to know what I saw in the future."
His own brother, lying to his face. Nathan slapped the magazine on the desk and got up, smiling far too sweetly. "Of course I do. Tell me all about it."
"What's with that attitude?" Peter asked, feigning innocence. "Bad day or something?"
"You could say that."
"Hey, look, tomorrow will be better, OK?" Peter smiled his usual clueless smile and clapped Nathan on the back.
Something was rising up inside Nathan, something long-suffering and shaken like a bottle of soda water until it was primed to explode. "Let me guess," he said. "You went into the future and saw as much?"
Peter grabbed hold of the explanation "S-sure! Right, exactly!"
CRACK!
Peter went down like a rag doll. Nathan blew on the knuckles of his smarting fist. "What do you know," he said with a satisfied grin. "Things are looking up already."
heroes_contest.Title: Nathan Petrelli's Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day
(With apologies to Judith Viorst)
Rating: PG for Petrelli abuse
Genre: Humor
Characters: Nathan and a few guest stars
Warnings: Petrelli abuse, and a small dig at a certain right-wing pundit
Summary: Oh, Nathan. Please forgive me for this.
Nathan Petrelli's Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day
(With apologies to Judith Viorst)
There are many pleasant things to which one can wake in the morning. Birdsong. The voice of a loved one. Sunlight. The smell of pancakes wafting up from below.
Angela Petrelli's face is not one of those things.
"What the? Ma..." Nathan rolled over, attempted to hide in his pillows, failed miserably, and groaned. "Don't do that to a guy in the morning."
"Nathan," she said gravely. "Can you be the one we need?"
He blinked and sat up. "Whaa-a-t?"
"You are the one we have been waiting for," she said. "You need to see this through, Nathan. Make me proud."
Ten minutes later, Nathan was on his hands and knees fixing the bathroom plumbing. He could tell already that this was going to be a bad day.
Peter had eaten all the waffles by the time he got downstairs.
"You smell like a toilet," he said, waving a hand in front of his nose.
"Yeah, thanks," Nathan muttered. "Pete, you free for lunch today? I gotta late morning booking on CNN but I can fly back in time. Wanted to discuss THAT with you." THAT being their Ultra Top Secret Plan to Take Down the Company, Piss Off the Old People, and "Out" Superpowered Humans. It was Ultra Top Secret, and also Totally Awesome. Once Nathan had nixed Peter's idea of buying matching red and blue outfits and doing pairs skating fifty feet above Rockefeller Center, that is.
"Can't," Peter said through a face full of waffles. "Promised Hiro I'd travel through time with him and try to prevent something awful from happening that's surely going to happen if we don't travel through time."
"I can make it to lunch and a time-traveler can't," Nathan muttered. "That's great. This is shaping up to be a very bad day."
CNN had locked Nathan in the "debate dungeon." This basically meant that he was supposed to face off against some pundit from the opposite side of the aisle and argue about the latest political nothing-story. It was infuriating, but after nearly dying, he had suddenly gained national attention, and why should he refuse it?
Because it would mean he had a chance of escaping alive, he thought in a panic as he saw the familiar face he'd be picking a slap-fight with. "Niki?"
"Not quite," said the blonde with a catty smile, tossing her hair.
"Jessica, then?"
"Old news," she said, looking bored.
"Gina?!?"
"Actually," she said, blowing a kiss at him, "I'm Niki's fifteenth alter ego, the knee-jerk right-wing pundit Fran Boulter. And if you disagree with me in this segment, I'll kick your teeth in."
Nathan sighed. This was truly a no-good, very bad day.
His cell phone rang on the way back from (solo, sob) lunch.
"Petrelli, it's Parkman. Got a few minutes?"
All right. A chance to discuss the Top Secret And Utterly Awesome Plan. Maybe this day would look up after all. "Sure, what's going on?"
"Well, we bought these sofa chairs, and they look like they'll fit through the fire escape doorway, but the stairwell's too narrow..."
Oh. Never mind. "What part of not a cargo jet did you not understand!?"
"Come on, Nathan. They're not as heavy as I am."
"An elephant is lighter than you, Parkman. Have I mentioned I'm having a horrible, no-good, very bad day?"
Two sweat-soaked flights (and not of stairs) later, he stood panting in the tiny apartment.
"So I can call you if we decide to get that sofabed, right?"
"Dry up and die," Nathan snapped. "Next time call the telekinetic brother, OK? When he's done traveling through time with the Nakamura kid, I'm sure he'd be happy to help you."
"He's not traveling through time," said a chipper voice across the room.
"Wha-a?" Nathan raised and eyebrow.
"He's at a bar on 43rd street," Molly said, smiling broadly. "With some girl. Drinking beer."
Nathan wondered briefly about the concept of justifiable fratricide. It was now officially a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.
"Hey, Nathan. I just got back."
Nathan looked up from his magazine and gave Peter the Look of Death. Peter stumbled back a few steps. "Hey, what's that for? I thought you'd want to know what I saw in the future."
His own brother, lying to his face. Nathan slapped the magazine on the desk and got up, smiling far too sweetly. "Of course I do. Tell me all about it."
"What's with that attitude?" Peter asked, feigning innocence. "Bad day or something?"
"You could say that."
"Hey, look, tomorrow will be better, OK?" Peter smiled his usual clueless smile and clapped Nathan on the back.
Something was rising up inside Nathan, something long-suffering and shaken like a bottle of soda water until it was primed to explode. "Let me guess," he said. "You went into the future and saw as much?"
Peter grabbed hold of the explanation "S-sure! Right, exactly!"
CRACK!
Peter went down like a rag doll. Nathan blew on the knuckles of his smarting fist. "What do you know," he said with a satisfied grin. "Things are looking up already."
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Date: 2008-05-06 03:54 pm (UTC)