Their tongues were knotted together, not for the first time that night. Peter smirked against Niki's lips. Casualties from the explosion were many, and life was hard for people like them, but that just meant he'd savor every moment they had together that much more.
With these thoughts he increased the intensity of the kiss. He stood and slightly turned the barstool so Niki's back was pushed up against the counter. She willingly followed his lead and soon he was nearly on top of her, straddling one of her legs… or was she the one straddling his? Peter gave this thought about one second of his attention before he was distracted by Niki wrapping both of her legs around his right. She arched up, whether on purpose or reflex, the effect was the same.
Peter half moaned, half growled. Then—
"Peetahh Petchelli?" came the tentative voice from behind them.
Peter whipped around, heat already flaring in his hands.
"WHAT?"
The cowering Asian man in the doorway quickly retraced his steps. His friend came up from behind and put his hand on his shoulder. Almost imperceptibly he straightened his posture, shoulders squared.
Peter himself was hunched and breathing raggedly, both with the effort of controlling the rising temperature in his palms and the way Niki's knee was still in the most inopportune of placess. She seemed to realize this a second later and quickly retracted it, the friction making him grit his teeth.
"Mr. Petrelli doesn't like to be disturbed, as you can see," Niki smoothly informed the fragile looking pair.
"But we-"
"Better have something earth shattering to say or I promise you that sword won't save you," she finished, just as smoothly.
The irony of the statement wasn't lost on either Ando or Hiro, but they wisely chose not to comment on it.
She arched an eyebrow at their silence, and the nerve of the taller one seemed to return.
"My name is Ando Masahashi and this is Hiro Nakamura, and we are from-"
"So it's true, you're from the past. How long ago exactly?" Peter's composure seemed to have returned, and Niki decided she'd rather watch this exchange than participate. Some parts of it were already threatening to shatter her newly restructured perception of reality.
"5 years, if it is October."
"Have I—Sylar gone off yet?"
Niki glanced quickly at him then, but as quickly away. Now, she wasn't the mind-reader in this group, but did she hear what she thought she did?
Thankfully, the men in the doorway didn't seem to have heard anything suspicious.
"No, and if we are successful here, he never will," said the little man with more conviction than Niki thought he would be capable of.
"You're wasting your time then," Peter said sharply, turning away from the conversation. "You can't change the past. Or your future either."
Niki suspected this conversation wasn't over, though Peter clearly thought it was. While he poured himself a scotch, neat—Nathan's drink of choice, she recalled—she saw the silent exchange between Hiro and his companion. It was the latter who spoke.
"Not alone, we can't."