the die has been cast (alea_iacta_est) wrote in _fracture_, @ 2014-01-14 05:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | caleb, chapter 1, lindsey, the regent hotel |
a dream?
Who: Caleb and Lindsey
Where: The Throne Room
When: Morningish
Lindsey had had the whole “this is really bizarre what the fuck and why and all that shit” moment or hour, maybe? She’d come awake with a start, a little drool on her cheek, and looked around for one brief moment before jumping to her feet. Her eyes went wide and she did circles in place to take everything in, panicking because she was so sure she’d been roofied.
“Piss, fuck, shit,” she groaned and tried to figure out if she was achey in any wrong places. Deciding, after a few more moments of utter panic, that she was okay and just in a weird place, she tried the door. She saw the note on the table beside the door, which thankfully opened, and groaned again. “Oh what the hell is this? I can’t even afford this.” The door led out of her room to a hall with a lot of other doors. And down the stairs and to a nice large hall where she realized yet again how much she really couldn’t afford this. There was the door and she firmly pushed it open, getting the fuck out of dodge. She sailed through it only to find herself in a bar.
“Yeah. That was sort of anti-climactic,” she grumbled and looked around. Only then did she realize she was in her nightgown. Her nice nightgown. The one she was saving for a Victoria’s Secret moment. “Well at least I’m not overdressed,” she said.
Caleb had showered and gotten ready in short order, never one to have much to pack up at any given time. The disturbing thing was the weird note that made no sense in his room that he hadn't remembered being there before, but he ignored it. Heading downstairs, he had tried to check out, but couldn't find anyone behind the desk. So, in the end, he'd just opted to leave.
Ellis had booked the rooms, they would be paid for. So, he had been planning on throwing his shit back in the car when he walked not outside, but—into a fucking bar? Or ball room? Or whatever? He blinked, then looked back the way he came, only to find a door marked 'storage'. He paused, gave a half smile of confusion, then looked back into the room as he heard a voice. Taking a few steps into the place properly, he saw some little redhead who was definitely not properly dressed. Which clearly she noticed.
He stood where he was silently, arms crossed as he pushed his sunglasses up to the top of his head, eyeing the girl.
Lindsey's jaw dropped open as the man appeared out of the same direction she had. Through a door marked storage. She was almost relieved to see him until she suddenly remembered what she was wearing. She nodded some form of acceptance of her situation. "Of course you're here," she said brightly. "And of course I'm wearing this. Because that's how I always pictured meeting the man of my literal dreams." Because that’s what this was, right? One of those dreams? She giggled and looked around a bit. "Any clues as to where we are, sort of tall, sort of dark, and all kinds of stoic?"
Caleb arched a brow at that. “Are you drunk?” he asked. Because that was his first assessment. He figured he'd somehow fucked up and taken a door that wasn't the right one. This place did seem a little maze-like, even if he hadn't wandered around much. He couldn't help but note she was kinda cute. Young, but kinda cute. He wasn't blind. Or a monk. He almost smirked at the 'man of my literal dreams' thing, it came forth as an ever so slight twitch to one corner of his mouth. He'd been called a lot of things but that wasn't one of them. “Do you always wander around in,” he paused, glancing her up and down again, “'Country girl' nighties?”
Lindsey burst into giggles. "No, but I so wish I was. I'm dreaming though, right? Because you don't walk out the front door and end up in a bar or whatever this place is… in your nightgown with a strange man in real life. That's still only happening in horror movies, right?" She was hoping. But even if that wasn't the case this was at least pretty damned interesting. So long as she didn't have to pay for anything, she was along for the muthafuckin ride, baby. Lindsey almost frowned at his question. "Country girl nighties… No way. This is the high end of nightclub fashion in Idaho. I'm surprised. Because you're not going to turn any heads in that." She pushed out one hip with a slightly amused and slightly annoyed expression. "No, I kind of just ran out of my room without realizing what I was wearing because I woke up in a strange place and thought I'd been roofied. I think I'm just dreaming now. I hope I am. I'd hate to think I ended up in a room in real life with you and you thought I was dressed like a grannie."
Well wasn't she just full of energy? He shook his head and started past her to the bar, taking his suitcase with him. “You aren't dreaming,” he told her firmly first. “I stayed here last night, was going to leave, and must have taken a wrong door or something,” he added. That was his story and he was sticking to it, nutty girl in her jammies beside the point. He glanced back at her when she mentioned that he wasn't going to be turning any heads. “Didn't you just say I was the man of your literal dreams?” he posed, smirking after he turned his head back toward the bar.
He slowed, however, at the rest of her story, and he turned around, dropping his suitcase. It echoed faintly in the room. “Run that last part again. Not the grannie thing, though 'country' and 'grannie' are different things,” he continued. “You woke up in a strange place, and think you’ve been roofied. That.”
Lindsey pondered his statement that she wasn't dreaming. That was probably true if she admitted reality to herself. She could smell the alcohol behind the bar and whatever he'd showered with earlier. Damn. She was here with a grumpy guy in her nightgown. Well, what else to do but be real, right? "Literal as in I was pretty sure I was dreaming. And you only turned my head because I was dreaming and you're the only other person in the room. Otherwise? I think, in comparison to my short, pink nightie, I might get more attention. Just saying."
She grabbed the hem of her nightgown and pretended there was music until he continued. "Country and grannie are equally as insulting," she said good-naturedly. "Mmhm, I've never seen this place in my life and I would never have come here. Could never have come here. I can't afford it and neither could anyone I know. So I figure I got kidnapped but you know, how could that happen if I wasn't drugged?"
Caleb wasn't smiling, even if she seemed to be taking the situation remarkably well. “...I'm going to need your name,” he told her first, tone serious. “And what do you remember about last night? Do you have any enemies? Have you ever been drugged before? Anything like this, ever happen previously?”
Lindsey saw he wasn't smiling and quieted. She almost felt she'd been reprimanded but didn't go too far down over it. "I'm Lindsey. And no, I don't have any enemies unless you consider an abusive foster father an enemy. I don't think I've been drugged before but, you know, I don't know. Because sometimes there are no guys like you when I wake up and don't remember where I am. Though nothing this big has ever happened to me before." She drifted closer to him, trying not to feel alarmed. She pressed her side against his. "Am I not safe? I want to change my clothes now."
Normally he really wouldn't have allowed for her to get that close to him, but if she was a rape victim, or some other fucked up shit? Then his protective instincts were officially kicked in. So, when she got in close, he put his arm lightly around her back. “Let's find your room,” he said first, tone as reassuring as Caleb's got. Which was actually more 'I got this covered' than 'It'll be okay'. “Where is this abusive foster father, and have you reported him to the police?”
Lindsey wasn't sure she'd been drugged, let alone raped. By anyone. Not even a foster father. She gave him a bit of a perplexed look and said, "I'm not even sure where my room is. I just left after I read the note. I don't have a key or anything. I really don't think he's here. Mr. Willows. Or anyone I know. I think I might be in the Twilight Zone and you don't have to investigate because it's too weird. I walked out the front door and ended up in here. How did you get here?"
He urged her toward the door, taking his suitcase with him but he still had his arm around the girl. “Did you leave the door open?” he asked. “Do you remember a number anywhere, or did you need to take the elevator?” He noted the name in his mind, Mr. Willows. He also noted she hadn't answered whether or not he'd been reported to the police. “How often do you wake up and not remember where you are?” he asked, and there was no judgment in his tone. He just wanted to get a proper bead on the situation, and the more information he had the better. Caleb was nothing if not efficient, at any rate.
Lindsey frowned when he started toward the door, asking where her room was. "You know, I mean, maybe it's not what you meant but you kind of have your arm around a girl in her nightgown, asking where her room is in a hotel." She paused and decided to stop being cute for a second. "I honestly don't remember where the room I woke up in is except I had to go down two flights of stairs. And I never wake up and not remember where I am. This is the first time. You're kind of concerning me. That maybe this is a really bad thing that's happening. And you're kind of further concerning me that you're part of it. Just saying."
Caleb stopped walking and took a step back away from her, putting his suitcase down and putting his hands up to show he wasn't touching her anymore. “I'm not part of anything, but when a girl tells me she wakes up someplace she didn't fall asleep in, and is confused about everything, and has an abusive authority figure in their life? It doesn't make me think happy, fluffy things are afoot. And I also can't say I like the idea of you wandering around alone, in a nightgown, if you were kidnapped. I don't know what's going on, but I don't like it already. And I just changed my plans from 'leave' to 'figure out what the fuck happened to you'. If I'm creeping you out, I'm not meaning to,” he told her, being up front. He also didn't mean to kill the smiles and twirls in her nightie, but what she was saying just raised all sorts of red flags in his head. Caleb just wasn't great at ignoring shit like that. He saw a girl who might need help. So...he already mentally signed on to do that.
Lindsey listened to what he had to say and she saw the validity. No one could call her dumb. Not and stay on their feet at least. She looked at Caleb and nodded. "Okay, I hear you then. My guard isn't going nutty anymore. I did fall asleep somewhere usual and wake up here which isn't. I don't think Mr. Willows had anything to do with it but I mean, I have foster siblings who play games and a foster brother who might try something. Not in a hotel like this though. So I really don't know what the fuck happened to me. Why would you change your plans to figure that out?" She tried to imagine, her mind going several directions but none of them wrong anymore.
He was glad she didn't seem to be suspicious of him anymore, though he really couldn't blame her if she was. “Where did you fall asleep?” he asked. He also again noted information down. Like this foster brother thing, for starters. “And why wouldn't I?” he posed in return. He knew it probably wasn't actually a valid answer, but he put it like that anyway. It wasn't like he was a cop. He was ex-military, and a bounty hunter, but he wasn't actually in a position of real authority anymore. He just...didn't like seeing anyone get rolled. Especially not people who looked kind of helpless and delicate like this one did.
Lindsey looked at him for a long moment and finally answered. "I fell asleep at home. My first ever apartment. Where I was happy and safe for at least two years until now." Albeit lonely and in a way that meant she wasn't going to question suddenly being with this Caleb guy for however long she got. "Uh because nobody does that for a girl in a grannie nightie!" she protested, feeling very silly for having thought this was a dream. Until she remembered the fact she went out the front door and ended up in here. She looked at the bar and then reached over it for something to take the edge off. She managed a small bottle of gin which she knocked back a little before thinking better and holding it out to Caleb. "Do you want? I figure I'm due since I got dealt the nightgown of hell hand."
So the people she knew who might do something like this weren't in her life currently, or at least didn't have easy access to her. Which just made things harder, not impossible. “It's a cute nightie,” Caleb told her, feeling like he'd trod on her feelings, so he figured the least he could do was make up for that with truth. At the offer of a drink, he shook his head. “Not this early in the morning for me,” he told her. He did lean against the bar, though, studying her. “Ignore the price tag on a place like this,” he said. “Is there anything weird that's happened in your life lately? Any new people?”
Lindsey looked down at the almost prim, pink nightie. "It is, right?" she asked kind of absently. "I was saving it." She drank again from the bottle and made a face before putting it back in case she got in trouble. "You do know it's like 6pm somewhere or later, right? Just saying." Not that it mattered if he drank with her. Still she giggled at what she perceived as his being kind of square. She shook her head at his question. "No, there really wasn't anything weird. Except that I was bored and kind of wished that something new would happen." Her eyes went a bit wide. "Wait, you don't think I wished this on myself, do you? If so, where did you come from?"
“Saving it for...?” he asked. “You put it on last night for a special occasion?” he added, figuring that had to be the case. If it was, maybe there was someone else in the picture too. “And I'm aware, yes, but see, I'm trying to help this girl I met? So, alcohol probably isn't my best bet at the moment,” he added. He also just didn't drink much. He was a paranoid son of a bitch, and didn't like any of his senses even partially dulled. At her question, however, he had to laugh, just a tiny touch. “I'm pretty sure I would know if I was the product of a wish or some shit. So, I'm going to go with 'no'. I don't think you wished this on yourself.”
Had she? She couldn't remember if it had been a special occasion or if it had been wishful thinking. Or maybe just pure patheticness. Nothing about last night seemed like it was going to make a quick run into her consciousness. "I don't know. I kind of wish I was wearing jeans and a tshirt now." She pressed her lips together and raised one brow as he called her out on drinking again. Though the bit about knowing about whether or not he was a wish was amusing. Could someone know if they were wished into existence? Why would they? There was something to explore. "Okay, I get it. You're sure you're real and I'm in trouble but I flip the tables and say I think you have it backward. What then?" she asked and grinned.
“Backward meaning... I'm in trouble, and I'm imagining you?” he asked, just to be sure he was getting the question right. He thought about offering her a shirt from his suitcase, but he still wanted to find her room. Hopefully she had clothes there. And his jeans would definitely not fit her.
Lindsey pointed one finger at him and gave him a smile that said he got a gold star. “That. Mmhm. Maybe you needed a little Ginger Spice in your life and you got me instead. I mean, that would really explain all of this, wouldn’t it?” She waved her hand at her sadly mostly innocent nightgown. “I’m the Imp of Thismus Present or something like that. You... need me,” she decided with a firm nod and a twinkle in her eye that almost transferred into a grin. “I don’t know what for just yet but I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”
Eyeing her, he smiled faintly and shook his head. “You're taking all of this remarkably well, you know, for someone who woke up someplace she shouldn't be.” She seemed to be a ray of sunshine, really. It wasn't a kind of person he met very often. Though, generally speaking, as a guy who hunted down criminals skipping off, he didn't exactly meet a good range of personalities. 'Scumbag' was usually the extent of description necessary there.
Lindsey thought about that a moment, her lips pushed out a bit, her expression almost serious. "Well, how else should I take it? I could go real dark, real quick about being the poor man's Ginger Spice. And if I'm someone's wish then at least I'm wanted, right?" she asked and was smiling again by the end of it all. "That and there's alcohol. Which I don't get very often and probably for very good reason. It makes me an eensy-weensy bit crazy. I'm talking karaoke and skipping the lime." She giggled, turning to fully face him. "But seriously. I don't really have anywhere else to be and no one's going to miss me. So I should make the best of this, right?"
Caleb hid the smile that wanted to creep out, though there was something less tense about his posture, either way. “That's one way to look at it,” he said. “I don't think this is a dream, or a wish, though, Baby Red,” he continued. “I think I just fucked up which door I thought I was exiting, and wound up here.”
Lindsey deflated slightly but then bucked up almost immediately again. “Yeah, I think I did the same thing too. But, you know, it could be very fun to be an imaginary person wished into existence. And there is still the very distinct possibility that you do, in fact, need me. That could be why we ended up in the same room.” She wasn’t giving up on the whole someone needing the other or vice versa thing. It had to be true. And he’d called her a nickname that she liked which made her beam. “I’m Lindsey, by the way. And you’re… Brad?”
Caleb crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing her. “Okay, I'll bite. What is it you figure I'll need you for?” he posed, just to see what she would say. Because she wasn't dull, that was for certain. She could probably come up with some kind of creative answer. When she said her name, he nodded. “I know, I got it earlier with the interrogation,” he pointed out. “And not Brad. Try again,” he added, again, pretty much just to see how she might react.
Lindsey wasn't at all intimidated by his posture. "Oh all sorts of things. I'm very good at talking myself into sticky situations which would give you a very good distraction to escape anything that wasn't a monster. I have been known to bake brownies like no other and I can also play the theremin which might have no practical use to you yet, but you haven't heard it so keep an open mind." She raised a brow, curious to know his response to her babbling. "I know you did," she said dryly. "I was hoping you'd tell me your name if I repeated it in a friendly manner, Not Brad. Um…" She tapped a finger to her chin, her other hand playing with the hem of her nightgown. "Gerald! No. Eustace! Nah. Ashley…" She tried not to smile but she managed to giggle anyway.
She talked more than enough for the both of them, that was clear. But he couldn't say he wasn't at least a little amused. It was hard to get Caleb in a frame of mind to be amused with almost anything, but she was getting him there. “What the shit is a 'theremin'?” he had to ask, wondering if he should or not. “Starts with a 'C',” he provided to help her out, the faint hint of a smirk on his features.
"It's an instrument that you play that works with sound distortion frequencies and … well it's hard to explain to someone not seeing it. But if you've ever watched an alien movie or something that has haunting music that almost sounds like a woman singing but clearly isn't, or the weird oo-ee-oo type music. Damn, I'll just have to show you some time if they let me have my theremin. Whoever they are." She mulled over the possibilities for his name starting with a "C" and tried to be a little more serious about it because it seemed the only way she was getting it out of him. "Christopher. Charles. Clark. Ummmm Castle?" She added the last one hopefully because she loved Nathan Fillion's character.
He listened to her description of the instrument, and there was just barely a little chuckle in there. “Okay,” he said, nodding. “I'll just take your word for it.” He merely stared at her when she went on to other names. “Castle? Seriously? You're going with Castle.” He shook his head. “Ends with a 'B'.”
Lindsey was on to his name and past the theremin now. She grinned and nodded, her messy red hair moving against her cheeks. “Castle. The guy is badass. He’s creativity and fun on legs. You… well you’ve got legs.” She was teasing but briefly as she moved on to think of names that started with C and ended in B. She screwed up her lips and then mumbled a few unintelligible mish-mashings of names that made no sense until her finger went back toward him. “Mmmhm. Caleb. Right? I know I’m right.”
“Two of them. They come standard issue, these days,” Caleb said drily. “You're right. I'm Caleb. Now, what exactly is your plan?” he asked. “You're going to...?” he prompted, wondering if she had one beyond having a few drinks and being bouncy.
Lindsey snickered and appreciated the fact he wasn't at all offended. She clapped her hands together with a happy grin when she found she'd earned his name. "You're still Not Brad though, Caleb." She shrugged though she looked a little bemused. "I'm not sure. I hadn't thought very far except getting out of that hideous room and trying to leave. Do you think there are other doors? Should we go looking?"
He groaned slightly when she told him she was going to call him 'Not Brad', but didn't comment on it. “I'm going to go ahead and assume there are other doors. It would be pretty fucked up if there weren't. So, fine. Let's go look for other doors.” He sighed like it was a chore, but what else was he doing? And he still didn't want to leave her alone yet. He didn't know if she was just bouncy, high, insane, or what, but he was still concerned about her having woken up someplace she hadn't gone to sleep.
She hung back, puzzled because she'd thought they were having fun. That he was playing along. And now it was kind of like she was a burden he was having to schlep along. Well she sure as hell wasn't going to be that girl. Not when she'd gotten her one chance to start over and maybe be someone awesome that all sorts of people wanted around. "Oh, I haven't finished my drink," she chirped, putting a pleasant spin on her tone. "You got ahead without me and I'll catch up later!"
Caleb looked back at her. “C'mon, Baby Red, let's just go, and look around. Hey, if this really is a dream, it isn't like the bar won't be there later, right? Might even be better than it is now. You said earlier you wanted to change, let's find your room. Or the front desk, or someone who works in The Overlook, here. It'll be great.”
"It won't be great," she said sullenly under her breath as she turned to cap the bottle she'd opened. "Not for you." But she got off her ass and straightened the bottom of her nightgown. She remembered the key she hadn't picked up from her room and realized she was locked out. She weighed the pros and cons of admitting this to someone who was already so beleaguered by her. "I need to ask for a key at the front desk," she finally said. "I left mine in the room I woke up in because I kinda thought I'd be outie five thousand already."
He frowned slightly. “Not for me?” he asked, not understanding that part. “And if you didn't rent the room, you could get the name possibly for who did.” He went to get the door for her, smirking faintly. “You were going to just ditch?” he chuckled.
Lindsey didn't answer his question, choosing to not pee her pants that he'd heard her say that in the first place. The guy was like a bat or something. "I guess there's that, right? And you could find out why you're here too." Caleb clearly didn't get where she was coming from. "Yeah, I was going to bail and not look back. I've done it before." No one had been there before though. He was probably the first person to be there when she'd tried to leave somewhere she didn't want to be. She tried not to get sentimental about it.
He opened the door and held it for her. “I'm here because trying to do fourteen hours in the car with your brother gets fucking irritating if you don't take breaks,” he told her.
If she'd felt cloudy there for a moment, his statement dispelled it immediately. She was giggling again, not entirely sure why, and waltzing out the door, almost dancing really. And running straight into a young man's chest. She reeled back and laughed. "Oh shitballs! Where did you come from?" she asked amusedly.
Caleb internally jolted too. He'd opened up the door for her, and he swore no one had been there when he had. And yet, now there was some jackass...what, bellhop? Those still existed? But some pale kid standing there, holding out a key to the redhead.
“You seem to have forgotten your key, Miss,” the bellhop said, with a lopsided smile. “We wouldn't want you to be locked out.”
To say Lindsey was nonplussed was an understatement. She looked at the crooked smile and the key and laughed. "Holy crow. Are you like the coincidence cop or what?" she asked, taking the key. "And cute too, what's your name?" She glanced back at Caleb and tapped her finger to the side of her nose like this was espionage.
Caleb was just eying the guy critically, not liking the circumstances but he couldn't place why exactly. It just seemed...off. Not that his morning was terribly normal so far either way. “So she rented the room?”
“You'd have to ask Sally, at the front desk, sir,” the bellhop said. He also blushed fiercely when Lindsey told him he was cute. “I-I ..my name is Benny. I er...I have to go, I'm probably needed in the kitchen. Have a nice stay!” she added, rushing off around the corner in a heartbeat.
Caleb moved after him but once he hit the corner, he looked around, but...no one was there. “What the fuck?” he muttered to himself.
Lindsey was noting how the bellhop was super helpful and super not eyesy and looking at what she was wearing. In fact, he'd pretty much blushed and disappeared at a simple compliment. Which she couldn't even begin to think was a response to her personally. It wasn't, right? She glanced toward Caleb. "Good question, right? So do we find Sally? Because I want to know things. Or do you think she'll be as weirdass as 'Benny?'" she asked with air quotes.
Caleb was looking up and down the corridors again, truly not liking this. Where the living fuck had that guy disappeared to? He didn't see anywhere. Maybe there was a staff door or something? He didn't know. Rubbing at the bridge of his nose for a moment, he turned his attention back on Lindsey. “Does your key have a room number?”
She examined the key, curious about his reaction to everything. It was like life itself weighed heavily on his shoulders. She didn't like that but she nodded. "It's the number on the key I left in my room. So I'm guessing that's where I was staying. I can go change and come back down to look for doors. There won't be any up there, right?"
She'd been the one who was initially talking about things being a dream or some shit, and he was now starting to wonder if she wasn't actually crazy. He walked slightly farther down the hall, and just...didn't see anywhere that bellhop could have gone. Not in the seconds he'd had as a head start. Shit. He rubbed the back of his head as he frowned, trying to drag his attention back to the current proceedings. He considered her words. “Can I come upstairs with you? I will remain in the hall,” he promised.
Lindsey watched him and wondered what he was looking for but then she'd just accepted what was happening at face value and hadn't noticed the strangeness or impossibility of Benny's retreat. She gave Caleb a half smile. "Sure, of course. I won't take a long time and I'm figuring I'll be fine in my own room. No one else has the key, do they?" she asked with a snicker. "Third floor it is."
He didn't answer, following her toward the elevator. If he wasn't in the middle of wondering what was going on, he might have appreciated the architecture. But no. He was far too deep in his own head, understanding something was really wrong here, and not being able to get what it was yet. He didn't like unknowns. He liked knowing his circumstances as fully as possible. This sucked.
Lindsey was taking everything at face value and appreciating that fact that someone knew she was locked out of her room, actually gave a shit, and brought her a key. That Caleb followed to the elevator just made her happier. And once inside the tiny space she looked at him kind of squarely. "You're not good, huh? Howcome?"
Caleb didn't answer immediately. He eyed her, then glanced up to watch the arm indicating the floors go up. Stepping out of the elevator, he finally spoke. “Because you woke up someplace you didn't go to sleep. I thought I fucked up and took a wrong door, but I was pretty positive at the time that I hadn't walked into some 'service' closet or some shit. And now there's an appearing-then-disappearing fucking bellhop who looks like he was sidetracked from 'Vertigo' or some shit, handing you a key you didn't report missing in the first place. I don't like it.”
Her brows furrowed and she tried to take in all of what he was saying. He definitely had some points. She could clearly credit him for being observant, far more than she was, and for not accepting a situation that wasn't perfect. She was far too prone to do that herself if she thought it meant people were going to take a shine and keep her around. Still, he was her one constant so she turned her eyes toward his face. "Well I'm getting changed but then what do we do if there are people running around who don't belong here?"
He let her lead the way down the hall, not knowing what the number of her room was. He'd been two floors up, on five. “I have no idea. I don't even know what this is yet, but I'm thinking I'd like to leave.” He looked at her. “I can get you a plane ticket to wherever, once we're out of this weird place.”
Lindsey led him to the door that had the number matching the key in her hand. She could feel her happy sort of deflating again. Probably thanks to the alcohol she hadn't quite had enough of to make her happy. And the fact that this sucked ass. Waking up in a strange place, having a bizarre experience while trying to leave, and then meeting a man who was not only cute but seemed to at least tolerate her chatter and sunshininess. "I guess when we find a way out of here that doesn't dump us into the bar a plane ticket would be great. Thank you," she said and unlocked the door. "You wait here. I won't be long." She slid into the room and started to shut the door behind her.
Caleb leaned against the wall opposite the door, keeping his eyes on it. He also listened, just in case there was any signs of a struggle, though it didn't seem like there was. If anyone else was in there, they were being nice and quiet about it.
Lindsey didn't take her time dressing. It was like she'd packed her own bag even though she couldn't remember doing it. So there were entire outfits down to the accessories all set up in neat piles, the accessories in pouches on top of each new outfit. She donned a sheer green lace blouse, matching emerald green and black striped leggings, a white leather corset, and matching white leather boots. It was a statement outfit and very different from the nightgown she'd been wearing. This represented more of her personality, or so she thought. Maybe she was trying too hard but she didn't know it. She opened the door and looked to Caleb. "Should I bring my suitcase? It's kind of heavy but it has stuff in it I'd miss."
“Sure,” he said, figuring it would be up to her, really. But if they were getting out of there, then it might be easiest. He also had to wonder what it was she was wearing. He...had not pictured that sort of outfit on that girl. Especially not with her choice of nightgown. He didn't comment on it, though, what with it being none of his business.
Lindsey was sort of pleased he didn't have a strange reaction to her question or her outfit. She quickly zipped up her bag after stuffing the nightgown carelessly inside. Then she left the room, closing the door behind her, so grateful her suitcase had wheels. She didn't want to hold them up by having to lug around a heavy bag without them or, worse yet, have him think he had to carry it or something. "Caleb, what do you think is really happening to us? This place is pretty damned creepy."
“I don't know,” Caleb answered truthfully. “Right now, I just want to get downstairs, and out. After that we'll work out what the hell is going on.” He really didn't have any suggestions. Maybe they were drugged. Maybe just confused. Maybe the place was confusing. He just knew he didn't like it, and none of it seemed like the kind of tactics people who didn't like he or Ellis would take.
She nodded, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully, ready to go whenever he was. Then she perked. "What if we were kidnapped by aliens? That would explain why the decor is from a different era. Maybe they time travel and they're really confused or something. Do you think we could reason with them into letting us go?"
Caleb hit the button for the elevator. “Reason only works when you understand the same values,” he said. That was something he knew especially well. “It's why in the movies when the victim pleads with the serial killer, you know it isn't going to pan out. Because you know the killer, they just don't give a shit about whoever is being left behind by their special brand of psycho.” He paused as he stepped into the elevator, and he quirked a trace of a smile. “Also there's no such thing as aliens. At least, not here.”
Lindsey looked sharply at him when he started talking about serial killers. "Have you ever met a serial killer? Maybe that's just how Hollywood paints them. Maybe there are some who could be swayed by pleading but Hollywood simply trained victims not to try. Seems dangerous to me." She followed him into the elevator, catching onto his faint smile and grinning. "You only say that because you haven't met one yet."
“Yes,” he said simply to the 'have you met a serial killer' question. Then with the last part, he shook his head. “I only say that because space is stupidly big, and if there are aliens out there – I'm going to err on the side of yes – then they're a million billion miles away and their chances of finding Earth at random is infinitesimally small. So, not impossible, but extremely improbable. I'd take ‘we're dreaming’ over aliens.”
Lindsey stopped, leaning against the wall of the elevator to let that all marinate in her mind. She could give him the aliens. She wasn't even sure she believed in them herself but it was fun to sort of theorize with the what ifs. But he didn't expound on serial killers and that made her a little nervous. "What in the world do you do for a living, Caleb? Why have you met a serial killer? And for that matter, was Hollywood wrong? And do I put the lotion on if I want to live or continue to protest?"
The elevator doors opened into a little alcove off of the lobby, and he stepped out, waiting for her. “I'm a Fugitive Recovery Agent,” he told her. “When bad guys run off, I go bring them back.” He started to glance around the lobby, but didn't see anyone right away. “Which should also answer your second question,” he added. Caleb stopped when she put in that last part. “If anyone ever has you? You fight tooth and fucking nail. You go for the eyes, throat, groin or back of the knee, and you run, as fast as you can, and don't stop until you're with other people and a working phone.” His tone was grave, serious.
Listening to him sort of took her breath away. She stood in the elevator until the doors almost began to close and then she catapulted out, her suitcase getting the brunt of the closing doors. She didn't care though. "Holy shitballs, no way," she said, her tone full of awe. "And yeah, that was kind of what I thought. Tooth and nail and boot heel. Seriously though. You're not one, right? This isn't your game or something? This place? Just tell me now, okay? If it is."
“I'm not trying to scare you. And this isn't my game, or whatever. I'm not a serial killer,” he promised. And he allowed a little warmth into his tone to help her believe him. He knew how he could come off sometimes. “Now come on, let's get out of here, first.”
She was all for believing him. He hadn't raised any red flags as far as she was concerned so she figured she was good. And if that turned out to be the wrong thing well… that was just how it worked. You couldn't mistrust everyone just like you couldn't completely trust everyone either. You had to pick and choose and Caleb felt safe. She nodded. "Oh, Captain. My Captain. Lead the way," she proclaimed with a little salute. "But you have to promise to tell me all about serial killers later."
He smirked a touch as he headed for the front doors – the same doors he swore he had come in when he'd arrived, and attempted to leave out of earlier. “And give you nightmares?” he teased, just a little. He opened up the door to hold it open for her.
"Oh there's a thought. Yeah, maybe no stories. Except now I'm curious. You're fascinating." She knew she'd been through those doors herself and ended up in the bar. Or maybe she'd dreamed it. She was distracted enough by the fact that he'd even break open enough to tease a little that she went through without a thought. And found herself in a library or something. "Fuck," she complained, looking behind her to see if he ended up there with her too.