Nichole had the car itself drive to the office. Normally she did love to drive, but commuting was kind of soul sucking towards the end of the work week. Plus, she still needed to finish her breakfast as she chowed, or rather slurped, down the remaining soy milk slurry with bits of walnut, soggy graham crackers and granola bobbing in the fluid and then with a smacking of her lips, saw as the car slowed down as it approached its destination. Putting her disposable breakfast bowl aside, she immediately gripped hold of the steering wheel, indicating she wanted control as she simply drove by and then, in the proper manner, backed into a parallel parking spot behind a familar muscle car from the sixties and what looked like a more update and upgraded street racing version of a common street car.<br/><br/>Needless to say, she felt someone humbled that she drove her four wheel drive crossover truck. Great for off roading, plus being from Arkansas, she needed something to drive that reminded her of where she was from. Most importantly though, she wasn't going to risk a dinged door in the city. Plus now that the station wagon was making a comeback, the automated driving software in it was simply brilliant, though even after a decades worth of work, it seemed no vehicle could parallel park properly still. Then again, most people couldn't either, so that wasn't that big of an issue.<br/><br/>Stepping out of her car and heading into the facility, she was nodding her head to her own beat, still feeling the music she had heard from the club she had gone to last night still beating in her head, and her heart. Knowing she only had briefings today, she decided to treat herself and be a little naughty, staying out late last night, listening to halfway decent local poprock music, drinking non-alcholic fruity drinks and dry humping a passed out hipster simply because the opportunity presented itself and one of her friends had a camera available. But now it was back to work.<br/><br/>Thankfully she didn't feel motivated to harassing the perpetually flat guards at the checkpoint as she made her way through the numerous layers of security, a perpetually blank, even dim look on her face as she seemed to be mouthing unheard words and bobbing her head, like she was in a conversation with herself as she went through the predictable motions of getting into the facility before finally, after being scanned in, she stopped living in her own world, looked up at the guard and flashed a big toothy grin. "Thanks!" she said cheerfully, bringing a slight half smile from one of the security guards as he let her pass into the interior of the facility.<br/><br/>Her face still glowing as she headed towards War Room One, wearing a tigerstripe military jacket which was more urban fashion as opposed to actual military utility (http://i.imgur.com/Rhc8qVo.jpg) along with a pair of skinny black jeans and black combat boots, fitted for her petite form, as she pushed in the door, leaning in head first and immediately spotting 'Semi' sitting in one of the plush leather seats, doing an admirable job of suppressing it with his heavily muscled bulk. "COMRADE!" she then said, in light sarcasm as she gave him a grin before stepping in. "Don't get up," she then added, maneuvering around behind the Russian and hugging him from behind, her arms wrapping around his head and neck as she rubbed her chin against the top of his noggin simply because she had never done it before and it occurred to her to give it a try.<br/><br/>Then letting him go, she turned to Pancho, she smiled. "Tijuana wraps... they were amazing," she said, pointing a finger at him, as she made a point of following his food recommendations. She wasn't afraid of admitting the truth. She asked the most Latino coworker she had where the best Mexican food was. And regardless of whatever Pancho's ethnicity was, his recommendation was still spot on. With that said, she then planted her sweet little ass between Semi and Pancho. Even though both of the guys were literal mountains in comparison to her, she still found enough space and elbow room for her to sit between them. Plus in the impossible situation that the War Room was stormed from both sides, she'd have a meat shield covering each flank. One never knew when that could happen, especially with Democrats still in high office.<br/><br/>Shrugging off her military jacket, she showed off that she was wearing a rather simple Green Day graphic tee shirt and immediately found herself tugging at the bottom edge of her shirt and then started to try and press out the wrinkles. "Laundry day tomorrow," she explained underneath as she tried to mimic the actions of an iron with her hand and failing miserably, answering a question no one except another woman would care about.