Who: Kenzie and Chris When: late afternoon, Monday, Dec 25th Where: Juniper to start Warning: turns NSFW Status: Part 1, complete
Holidays were the hardest in the field. Chris could work tirelessly and face down monsters and go into places that no human being should go, but when he was faced with a completely idle day where everything was closed and everyone was with their families when he couldn’t be ... well, it sucked. Especially Christmas, the holiday he’d proposed to his ex-wife on. It seemed like a lifetime ago. He’d slept in as long as he could sleep, masturbated in the shower, gone for a walk that ended up being much shorter than he planned. It was fucking cold out, and it just kept snowing. Chris video called his sister to wish her a Merry Christmas and see the baby. They’d chatted for a little while, but she had other holiday shit to get to, so it hadn’t been long enough. Chris regular-called his dad next -- the old man wasn’t great with any technology that was advanced enough to involve touch screens -- and that conversation had been even shorter. It was more obligation than anything. But then there was no one left to call and Chris was at loose ends.
Eventually he got restless enough for company and put on some real pants to go down the hall. He wasn’t sure what Kenzie was up to, they hadn’t really discussed plans beyond not having many, but he’d gotten her a little something and he wanted to wish her Merry Christmas. Chris just hoped he wasn’t interrupting something as he knocked on the door to her room. He idly tapped the box in his hand against one set of fingers, also hoping it wasn’t a lame ass gift.
Kenzie had been awake for a while, but beyond going downstairs to grab a cup of coffee from the dining room, she stayed in her own room working. The round table in the corner of the room was covered in notebooks and maps of the town, her laptop open where she had been typing up her handwritten notes. She took time to call her parents and wish them a Merry Christmas, but then she went back to it, her reading glasses perched on her nose as she studied the maps and then entered various locations into her notes. She had expected to see Chris today at some point. Unless he found a lonely lady to spend the day with, anyway. But as far as she knew, they were two of four guests in the Inn and everything else in town was essentially closed. Given the snow outside, it felt like a good day to be productive, as pathetic as that probably seemed to everyone else with family or friends to be with.
She was still wearing her yoga pants and a simple red t-shirt when the knock came at her door. Her hair was in a messy bun and she had on ridiculously thick, warm socks. The room got drafty at times, which Kenzie figured was whatever spirit she was sharing the space with. Looking up from her work, she stared at the door for a moment before it occurred to her that it was probably Chris. She hadn't ordered room service, and she had already sent away the cleaning woman. Kenzie took off her glasses and set them down before padding across the room to peer out of the peephole. Chris. She unlocked the door and opened it, giving him a small smile. "Hey." He was dressed, and looked... nice. Dammit. Kenzie resisted bringing a hand up to her crazy hair, and instead she stepped away from the door so he could come in if he wanted to. "Merry Christmas and all that."
She looked comfortable to Chris. Comfy and cute, though he wouldn’t ever tell her that. He gave her a little half smile as he walked into her room. He hadn’t bothered to put shoes on, but he had packed a few pairs of holiday socks, and it almost felt like an obligation to wear the Christmas tree ones today. “Hey, yeah, Merry Christmas,” he replied, his gaze sweeping over her room. It looked like she was working. Of course. “Looks like you been havin’ a fun holiday so far.” She probably would have been disgusted that he’d been wasting time flipping channels and jerking off. But hell, it was Christmas. Once he was near the foot of the bed, Chris turned to offer the small box out to her. It was a nice set of two heavy duty silver pens, not quite CEO-desk level, but still good quality. “Gotcha somethin’,” he said.
Kenzie shut the door behind him, her gaze glancing down to his socks, which were a bit unexpected, but cute. They made her grin anyway. She followed him and then looked at the box he was offering her. She stared at it dumbly for just a second or two before taking it from him. Why she was surprised Chris got her a gift Kenzie had no idea. They were both stuck here on Christmas, and really, they only had each other and despite their occasional bickering, she considered him more of a friend than a lot of people they worked with.
Plus, she felt less silly about having gotten him a gift now, which was a bit of a relief. Kenzie opened the box, smiling immediately when she saw the pens. Lifting one out of the box, she rolled it between her fingers. Good quality. Heavy. Kenzie knew most of their colleagues used their phones, or other technology to work, but she had always been a note taker. There's was nothing like a good pen and a notebook and no one could convince her otherwise. "These are great, thank you," she told him. Kenzie replaced the pen into the box and walked over to set it down beside her laptop. "I got you something too." Walking over to the side of her bed she picked up the shiny green and red bag with white tissue paper and offered it out to him. Some of the things she had considered buying him had felt oddly intimate, so Kenzie ended up by a bottle of The Macallan Double Cask whiskey. The owner of the liquor store had assured her it was some of the best, and she just hoped Chris enjoyed it.
Chris had questioned himself on whether it was weird to get Kenzie a gift or not, but he decided to err on the side of not being a dick. She was his favorite partner, and they were stuck here together for who knew how long. He liked to get on her nerves, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like her. So the look on her face when she opened the pens made Chris feel pretty damn good. Grinning, he sat on the bottom edge of her bed, and reached for the bag when she offered it. He hadn’t quite expected anything back, but it wasn’t really a surprise. Kenzie was the kind of woman who always had every holiday covered. It was like being punctual, just part of her makeup. He dug into the bag and pulled the bottle out, his brows lifting as he looked over the label. Chris let out a low whistle. “Nice,” he said with real appreciation, hefting it in his hand. It was the kind of whiskey that he didn’t usually buy for himself unless it was a special occasion. “Thanks, Novak, Merry Christmas.” Chris flashed her a smile as he slid the bottle back into the bag. “So what are you up to?”
That seemed to be genuine appreciation so Kenzie relaxed a bit. She didn't think Chris would be a dick and tell her the whiskey sucked if he didn't like it, but still. He was probably the only person she bought a gift for beyond her parents and Kenzie had sent those well before she and Chris got on a plane to Maine. Sitting back down in her chair, Kenzie looked over her laptop and notes before shooting Chris a faint smile. "I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't count. I don't know, I just figured today's a good day to catch up on some stuff. It's that or watch some Christmas fluff on television. What about you? It looks like you've been up and around. What have you been doing all morning?"
“Mostly watching Christmas fluff on television,” Chris admitted with a little laugh. He set his gift down on the floor and reclined on his side on Kenzie’s bed like he owned the place, propped up on one elbow. “I called the family, tried to go for a run and decided I didn’t feel like freezing my balls off, came back. The usual holiday shit.” He grinned lazily at her. “Thought I’d come harass you a bit. See if you wanted to get up to something.” There wasn’t much to get up to, of course, but he had to try and make it sound appealing, right? Chris was feeling kind of restless and like he wanted to crack open that bottle already and go exploring or something. Or sit around with actual company -- Christmas fluff was much more entertaining when you were drunk.
It wasn't the first time they had been in one another's hotel rooms, but Kenzie wasn't sure how she felt about Chris laying so casually on her bed like that. It was made and neat and everything, but still. He looked comfortable and at ease and kind of cute with those stupid socks on his feet. Just thinking of Chris and the word cute at the same time annoyed her. Realizing that he was propositioning her - not in a sexual way of course! - Kenzie's brows lifted and she hummed thoughtfully while looking back at the work she had started. Getting up to something did sound a bit more appealing on Christmas than typing notes so she shut her laptop and shifted her attention back to Chris. "Well, then let's get up to something. What kind of something do you want to get up to? Explore this tiny ass inn? Have a few drinks? Have a few drinks and then explore this tiny ass inn?" Kenzie lifted her feet and wiggled them. "I'm not changing out of these, so going outside is not happening."
Chris got a little thrill of victory when Kenzie pushed her laptop closed. It wasn’t easy to make her stop working. He sat up with a grin and then chuckled over her socks. His were not so well insulated, but that was okay. Chris had no sock shame. “Aight, so ... I think those are our options,” he said with a laugh. He at least wanted to walk around for a while before they settled in front of It’s A Wonderful Life or something. Chris picked up the gift bag again to pull the whiskey bottle out. “I vote we drink. Then we explore. And we happen to have a very fine vintage I was recently gifted by a colleague,” he said, grinning at her as he got up. To track down something to pour it into.
Kenzie nodded and got up when Chris did, motioning to the tiny coffee pot and wrapped coffee cups that were on the corner of her dresser. She always went down the dining room for coffee, or out to Joyland, so the cups had been pretty much untouched since she checked in. "Here," she said, handing one of the thick cups to Chris. It wasn't the first time Kenzie had a drink with a colleague, but she knew she should probably watch her intake. Kenzie was something of a lightweight when it came to alcohol and the last thing she needed to do was let her inhibitions slip around Chris Washburn. "You've eaten, right?" she asked with a grin. "I don't need you getting sloppy drunk and barfing in my room."
It was probably some kind of crime to drink liquor this good out of a shitty paper cup, but Chris had never stood on snobbery when it came to drinking. He unwrapped the cups Kenzie handed to him, setting them on her makeshift desk to pour a good helping of whiskey into each one. He gave a little snerk at her question, shooting her an amused look. “I’ll be sure to barf in the hallway if I need to, like a gentleman.” He recapped the bottle and picked up both cups to offer Kenzie’s out to her. “But yes mother, I’ve eaten.” Chris grinned a bit.
Kenzie parted her lips to tell him that's enough when just a small splash of whiskey made it into her cup, but he was already pouring a hefty amount so she merely sighed and picked up the cup when he finished. Oh well, it was Christmas. Why not live a little? She stuck her tongue out at him for the mother comment before taking a drink of the whiskey. And it burned her throat, causing her to cough into her hand a little, her eyes watery. "That's strong," she rasped before placing a hand on her chest, amused. "God. I mean, it's good, but... wow." Kenzie exhaled and peered into her cup again. It smelled good, at least. Kenzie moved to sit down on the edge of her bed again, tentatively taking another sip. It tasted better when she didn't gulp so much down. "Do you think this is pathetic? Drinking whiskey in a hotel room in our silly socks on Christmas? Do you wish you were somewhere else?"
Chris managed not to laugh at Kenzie’s first drink -- like a gentleman! -- but he couldn’t help but look amused. He could smell that this was high-quality stuff before it even hit his tongue, so he took an easier swallow to start out with. It was strong, but it was smooth too, and went down hot and easy for him. Chris moved to join Kenzie on the edge of her bed, though he left a professional amount of space between them. It was just comfortable. “Pathetic?” he mused, pursing his lips a bit in thought. “I wouldn’t say that. Sad for us, maybe, but we’re saving the world, so ...” Chris shrugged a shoulder, then glanced down at their feet and chuckled. “Okay maybe the socks are pathetic. And I dunno ... I’d rather be naked in a hot tub with Scarlett Johannson, but realistically?” Another shrug. “I’d just be hanging out with my sister and her kid, or watching Fox News with my dad and slowly getting drunk. This’s better.” Maybe that was the pathetic part, that he would be somewhere worse if he wasn’t working. Chris took another swallow. “Do you?”
Kenzie snorted into her cup at the thought of Chris in a hot tub with Scarlett Johannson. Of course he would rather be doing that. "You know, you can pick up so many infections in a hot tub," Kenzie pointed out. "Including hot tub rash." Maybe that would dampen that particular fantasy for a while, and she hid her grin in her cup as she sipped some more whiskey. It made her stomach feel warm, which was a nice sort of feeling today, of all days. "I get not wanting to watch Fox News, but do you not like your sister and nephew? Or your dad?" She didn't know much about Chris's personal life, because they rarely delved into personal stuff when they worked together. Surface things, yes, but... family stuff was usually a no-no. "I don't know that I would rather be somewhere else. It might have been nice if they sent us to someplace tropical, but... I mean, I would probably be in Chicago with my parents. So..." Kenzie shrugged.
Chris laughed and made a face at the comment about the hot tub. Leave it to Kenzie to ruin that particular fantasy. Hot tub rash just sounded nasty. It was funny though, he would give her that. He sipped some more on his drink and gave a non committal hum. “‘Course I do, I love them all,” he said. “I mean, Chuck’s just a baby but he seems all right so far.” Chris shot her a little smirk. “I just ... I dunno, feel like the weird loose-ends kid, I guess. My sister got married, settled down, blah blah. I ran off to some mysterious job I can’t even really tell them about that keeps me traveling all the time. It gets awkward. Me and my dad ... we’ve got a complicated relationship, I guess you could say.” Not that Chris wanted to talk about his father at all, so he occupied his mouth with more whiskey. “Tropical woulda been nice though. Nothin’ like wearing a speedo on the beach on Christmas.”
Kenzie could understand that. She and her parents got along even though they couldn't understand why she would give up her job in Chicago to move to Atlanta. She couldn't tell them the truth, but they were always disappointed in how much she worked and how little she flew home. She felt bad that she wasn't there today, but work was work and honestly, sometimes it was worse being with her mom and dad during the holidays than alone. So many questions, and it was always her dad rather than her mom who continually asked when she would give them grandchildren. Ugh. "You are so not a Speedo person," Kenzie said, flashing him an amused once over. "No way. You're... only wearing trunks because you would get arrested for indecent exposure if you swam nude."
“See, I was about to argue with you,” Chris said with amusement. “But you’re spot on. You know me too well, Novak.” Smirking, he lifted his cup to his lips again. His midsection was starting to feel pleasantly warm, but it was going to take at least to the bottom of the cup for him to feel drunk. And Chris wanted to get drunk. It was Christmas. That was maybe not the smartest thing to do around Kenzie, but he was willing to take that chance to actually have a good time with her. So he was glad she didn’t ask him any more family questions. They might as well go with more fun holiday questions. “So what was the one thing you wanted the most for Christmas that you never got?” he asked, looking over at her curiously. “As like, a kid.”
Kenzie wondered for a very brief, ridiculous moment if Chris slept naked. The thought was unwelcome and nearly made her roll her eyes but she refocused, drinking more of her whiskey and blaming her warming skin on the alcohol. His question prompted her to raise a brow in surprise. "Oh, uh... a typewriter," she said with a smile. "Like, an old school looking typewriter. I loved writing as a kid and thought to be a real writer, I needed one, instead of a laptop, which my parents did get me. I know that's probably weird. Kids want video games and puppies or whatever. What about you?"
Chris looked surprised and amused the instant she said typewriter. God, that was just so Kenzie. Part of him wanted to laugh at her but it was actually pretty fucking charming. “It’s totally weird, but that’s okay,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Definitely unexpected, so ... good. I just wanted a boring-ass dirt bike, from ages like, eight to fifteen. They never got me one.” They hadn’t gotten him a laptop either, but that was neither here nor there. He sipped from his cup again, liking how a bit of numbness was starting to spread through him. He’d eaten, but it had been a while. Which was ideal when you wanted to get drunk. “I can see kid-you, sitting around with a big old Selectric and banging out the next great American novel.” Chris grinned at her.
"Dirt bikes aren't boring," she said, not at all surprised by that particular answer. Chris looked like the kind of guy who should own a motorcycle and a black leather jacket. Tight jeans. Kenzie drank more of her whiskey and then realized her cup was empty. How did that happen? She stood up to grab the bottle and pour just a little more. Her skin felt really warm and her insides were happy, if that was actually a thing. Honestly, she should have eaten more than a scone from downstairs. "I would have written that great novel if I had gotten the typewriter. But I didn't, so now I'm here. Amazing how one thing in your childhood could change the trajectory of your life. But you're a big boy now, Washburn. You could buy yourself that dirt bike. You would probably get more use out of it than I would a typewriter."
Not to be out-drank, Chris downed the rest of what was in his cup and leaned to poke at Kenzie’s hip with it in a wordless request for a refill. He laughed at her words in the meantime, though it was more delighted than derisive. He tried to picture himself now on the dirt bike he always dreamed about as a kid, and it seemed so ... tiny. “You think so, huh? I’ve thought about a motorcycle, honestly, but I feel like I’m never home enough to get good use outta it. It would just be parked somewhere, missing me,” Chris sounded briefly wistful. “I mean, I could ride it to new jobs if we’re going places that aren’t in the fuckin’ Arctic Circle. But we’ll see. It was probably smart of them in hindsight, I would’a broke my neck pretty fast on one of those things. I was a reckless kid.”
Kenzie refilled Chris's cup, giving him a bit more than she gave herself before she set the bottle back down on her dresser. "I guess parents do know better with some things. It's a shame though, I'm sure the girls would have thought you were a badass with a dirt bike." He was probably right about the motorcycle, though. They were always being sent here or there. Work never stopped. There was a reason why her apartment was so... bare. She was never really home to enjoy it as a home. "When did you outgrow the reckless bit?" Kenzie asked, sitting back on the bed beside him. "Or do you save all your recklessness for your days off?"
Chris smirked, the thought crossing his mind that he’d never had much trouble with girls anyway ... but that wasn’t exactly true. He’d been an awkward kid with a ‘troubled’ streak, and he hadn’t really understood that he was attractive until late in high school. But he didn’t want to get into all of that crap with Kenzie, he’d grown up now. Chris accepted the fresh drink with a murmured thanks and took a sip immediately. The whisky was definitely going down easier now. He chuckled at her question and shrugged. “It’s still there. I just know when to hold it down now to stay alive. I was a firefighter, y’know. It takes at least a bit of crazy to run into a burning building.”
"That's true, I guess. But I can't imagine your bosses would have wanted you to be reckless while fighting a fire. It requires quick thinking. Bravery." She grinned and nudged him with her elbow. They weren't sitting too close, so she had to lean toward him more and nearly fell over into his lap. Kenzie kept herself up right, and her cup too thankfully. She wasn't graceful, but she wasn't embarrassed either. Kenzie stood smoothly and motioned for Chris to join her. "Well come on, Mr. Crazy Man. Let's go see if there are other places in the inn that are as haunted as my bathtub."
Anytime that B-word started getting thrown around, Chris felt uncomfortable. He hadn’t felt like some brave hero most of the time, just a guy doing his dangerous job. But there was something kind of thrilling about hearing it from Kenzie. She had a dangerous job too, after all. He hardly had time to think about it before she nearly tipped over, and Chris’s free hand jerked up to catch her, but Kenzie’d already done it. Which was only halfway a relief, honestly. He stood up as well, grinning lopsidedly at her, and moved to the dresser to give himself a top-off for the road. Chris was tempted to take the whole bottle, but he thought he might end up drinking too much of it if that was the case. It was a gift to savor. “After you, Hemingway,” he murmured.
Kenzie shot him a Look at the nickname, but she said nothing, merely taking a drink from her cup instead. She made sure to grab her room key on the way out, offering it to Chris as she opened the door into the hall. "You have pockets," she told him. Her yoga pants had no pockets and Kenzie didn't want to risk losing her key while they were out exploring. Kenzie looked up and down the hallway, trying to decide which way to go. It wasn't an overly large inn, but there had to be places to investigate. If she could just finish this whiskey off and be... coherent. "Do you think this place has a basement? Or a boiler room, like the Overlook Hotel?"
The yoga pants might not have pockets, but they made Kenzie’s ass look pretty damn good, Chris couldn’t help but notice. Not that it needed a lot of help with that. Which wasn’t something he was supposed to notice, but he had, for a long time. As long as he kept his mouth shut about it, it wasn’t sexual harassment, right? Chris took the key and slipped it into his front pocket as he glanced down the hallway as well. They seemed to have the place to themselves, even if he knew there had to be other people in the building. “Bet it does,” he said, only a bit of a lazy drawl in his voice. “Let’s go find out.” He started walking down the hall, appreciating how thick the carpet felt under his feet, at least. Even if there wasn't a basement, there would be other nooks and crannies to explore.
Kenzie walked with Chris, wondering if Nick was around, or with his lady cop friend. She knew the inn had some staff on hand today, but the place seemed quiet for the moment, almost like they were the only two people there. The room doors were all shut, as they would be and Kenzie very nearly walked over to one to press her ear up against it, but that would be super weird and probably invasive. "This place needs an elevator," she said, once they were standing at the top of the wide stairs. She felt a little dizzy, but she figured she could handle it as long as she kept her hand on the railing. It wasn't like she was falling down drunk, she was just feeling a bit buzzed now. And her socks were thick, which could be problematic for walking right? Kenzie gripped the railing with one hand and held fast to her whiskey with the other. She didn't need to make a mess for some poor guy having to work on Christmas. "I wonder how many anomalies are in this building," Kenzie murmured. "Do you want to take a guess?"
Chris walked down next to Kenzie, ready to grab for her if her balance failed again like it had on the bed. Falling into his lap would’ve been a lot nicer than falling down the stairs. He wasn’t feeling unsteady yet, just buzzy and light and good. Chris sipped on his drink as they went. “Less than if they actually had an elevator,” he quipped with a smirk. “Those attract problems. But uhhh ... I dunno, given the age of a place ... roughy a half dozen. Maybe more. Probably just ghosts though.” There were far worse anomalies to have to deal with, but Chris hadn’t seen any sign of those as of yet. They reached the bottom of the stairs without incident, and Chris glanced around to suss out a direction, then started for a hallway he hadn’t been down yet.
Half a dozen was probably accurate. It amused her because it showed just how long they had worked at this job that they could look at the age of a building and sort out a haunting. "Just ghosts," Kenzie said with a small grin. "So tame." She had no idea where they were going, but she didn't care. She hadn't been down this hallway either and there were a couple more doors that she assumed were rooms. And a maintenance closet, if that's what it was. There was no sign on the door, so she didn't know. But the door was locked when she tried the handle, so she continued on after Chris. "I wonder how this place stays in business," she murmured. "At most I've seen maybe three other guests besides us. I can't really picture this place as a major tourist attraction."
“Better than a lot of other things,” Chris muttered. He could handle garden-variety ghosts just fine. They didn’t usually bother anything, they just startled the shit out of you in the middle of the night. There were other types of spirits to worry about, but he didn’t think they were hanging around Juniper. “I dunno, might be part funded by some historical society or something,” he offered as they strolled down the hall. Chris tried a couple of doorknobs himself, but they were all locked. “Or some kinda dark money, oooo.” He wiggled his fingers at Kenzie and then grinned. “Now I sound like a ghost. You hear that, ghosts?” Chris raised his voice a little and looked around them. “I can come down to your level, you ain’t shit.”
Dark money. That made Kenzie shiver, which was saying something because she so rarely got scared by anything anymore. She had seen enough to start desensitizing herself to the horrors hiding in the dark. And Point Pleasant seemed to be full of them. She had felt it almost as soon as they checked into this place. She nodded along with Chris. "Yeah, what he said," she said loudly. Then she looked up and then over her shoulder, just to make sure some kind of poltergeist hadn't decided to make itself known to them. The hallway was empty... very empty. She didn't even hear anyone in the lobby working the front desk. Then again if it was that young woman, she was probably sitting there playing on her phone. Kenzie finished off her whiskey and wished there was a trash can nearby. But she caught sight of a dark oak door at the end of the hall where they could turn left or right. The door was partially hidden by the corner, but she tugged Chris's sleeve and pointed. "I bet that's it. Basement stairs, or the boiler room. It's kind of out of the way and that door looks pretty heavy."
Chris didn’t expect some ghost to pop out of nowhere to answer their drunken challenge, but he wouldn’t have been shocked if it happened, honestly. After working this job, he kind of felt like there were things everywhere, just under the visible surface. Sometimes it made him feel paranoid and like he wanted to look over his shoulder all the time. Other times it was kind of comforting, like he was never quite alone. It just depended on the day. This hallway seemed empty and quiet as a tomb though. He looked where Kenzie directed his attention, and squinted a little at the door. “Bet you’re right,” he murmured. “Let’s go.” Chris knocked back the rest of his drink -- and kind of wished he hadn’t, there was still a lot there -- and coughed just a little before he hooked his arm through Kenzie’s to start walking them toward the door. It was a bit ominous-looking, even though it was probably just a boring basement, and Chris kind of felt like an exploring kid again.
It was probably irresponsible of them to go so casually into the basement of what they knew to be a haunted building. Especially so unprepared. Especially after drinking. But Kenzie figured it was all in good fun. She didn't expect to find much anyway. But she had to wonder if the basement was long forgotten, or maybe just some place they stored inventory or outdated appliances and what not. Kenzie reached out to turn the knob once they were close enough and she wasn't all that surprised to find it unlocked. Pulling open the door, Kenzie peered down the dark stairs before reaching in to feel around for a light switch. With that on, she could see there were ten steps before a landing and from what she could tell, more steps to the left of that. "How deep does this thing go," she said, more to herself than Chris, since he obviously wouldn't know that answer. Kenzie grinned up at him. "Big strong men first, of course."
The light looked pretty dim down there, and Chris automatically slipped his hand into his pocket for his phone, only to find it wasn’t there. Oops. Oh well. The door was unlocked to start with, so he didn’t give a second thought to stepping into the stairwell. “Of course,” he said, puffing out his chest a little bit. He started down the wooden steps, which were appropriately creaky, and was vaguely glad he was drunk now, because it felt like twenty degrees cooler as he turned on the landing and descended the rest of the steps. The lighting was obviously old, some of the bulbs flickering toward the back of the basement. It was fairly big, which made sense for the building, and full of old beds, furniture, and appliances, some stacked haphazardly, with narrow walkways branching off here and there. Chris saw a big white-ish block of stacked mattresses off to one side, shadowed with stains. Part of the basement to the left was blocked off with a chain-link fence, but he couldn’t see what was in there. It smelled like dust and mold and old furniture polish and faint gasoline. “Fire marshal doesn’t check down here much, obviously,” he muttered to himself.
Kenzie followed him, clutching the wooden railing leading downstairs. The lights were shitty, but it didn't bother her much. Probably because the whiskey as making her feel pretty light and completely unaffected by the spooky atmosphere. Her gaze scanned the basement. It stunk, but that wasn't surprising given what was down here. Of course a haunted inn would have a creepy basement like this. "All we need now is the large cobwebs in the corners," Kenzie said moving past Chris to get a better look at everything. She wished she had remembered her phone, or one of the smaller recorders she brought with her. Kenzie took off to the left through one of the narrow passageways between the piles of what was essentially junk. "Why would they keep any of this?" she asked, the dank smell of water and chemicals wafting up around her. "I wonder if the owner is some kind of hoarder."
Chris squinted toward one of the corners, but the light was too dim to see if there were cobwebs or not. He wouldn’t be surprised if they were there, though he couldn’t imagine a lot of bugs got down here to be eaten, especially in the winter. His feet were already getting cold as he started following Kenzie, and he realized belatedly that his Christmas socks were going to end up filthy. Oh well again. Today was the holiday anyway, and he was spending part of it in a dank basement with his partner. “Could be,” he agreed, reaching out to trail his fingertips over old bedposts and stacked nightstands. “Could be a whole collection of ‘I’ll get around to fixing it someday’ type stuff.” He didn’t feel afraid either, both from the alcohol and familiarity of these types of places. “Or,” Chris added with extra volume, then snickered. “It’s a cover for a good place to stash bad shit.”
"That seems more likely." She sounded amused. "Because this whole town has that vibe, if you ask me." Kenzie wanted to look at everything, certain there had to be something worthwhile down there to look at. There was a box full of toys, probably from the lost and found after rooms were vacated. She rummaged through it for a moment and grinned as she slipped on a dusty looking Rosie the Riveter hand puppet, the kind that punched when you fit a lever beneath the fabric. Turning to Chris, she reached up to punch the tiny plastic boxing hand into his nose. "Boo!" She realized she must be drunk, or almost drunk, to playfully flirt with Chris in this kind of way, but she had also had enough whiskey not to care at the moment.
Chris was busy trying to reach into the center of a furniture pile to pull a nightstand drawer open, and he looked over just in time for Kenzie to pop him in the nose with the toy. He blinked rapidly a couple of times and then laughed, batting lightly at her hand. “What the fuck, that has to be like, from the sixties,” he said, grinning. “Way to give me abses ... abest ... asbestos, Novak.” Chris snickered at himself and his drunk tongue. His attention was drawn to the toy box and he pulled a long stick out of it that might’ve once been part of some toy, turning it on Kenzie to poke her in the stomach with it. “En garde!”
"If there's asbestos in this place, you've already been exposed, Washburn." She laughed when he poked her and used her punching puppet to hit at the stick. "What are you, eight years old?" The puppet was starting to itch a bit so Kenzie pulled it off to dump it back in the box. There was another box beside it with the top closed. She pulled it open, coughing a bit at the dust that puffed up into the air. And then she started down into the box, trying to decide if she wanted to laugh or wrinkle her nose in disgust. "Well, I found the adult lost and found!" Kenzie tugged her sleeve down over her palm to pick up something small and gray with another small bit shaped like a tiny cylinder dangling from it. It was a bullet vibrator. There were a couple more play toys in there, but also old boxes of condoms and KY jelly. "Why the fuck would this place keep all of these? I mean..." Kenzie laughed and dropped the bullet back into the box. It began to vibrate immediately, the sound loud and jarring. "Oh my god. That must not be that old if the battery still works. Ew."
Chris had been about to point out in a truly mature fashion that she started it when Kenzie opened the other box. He laughed heartily at the bullet vibrator and peered into the mess of other stuff inside. He was pretty sure two of the dildos had melted together to become one, and he was poking at those with the stick when the bullet started buzzing. That just made him laugh harder and he jabbed at it until it stopped again. “Jesus Christ, they need an incinerator up in this bitch,” he declared, highly amused. Chris snickered and hooked the edge of some lacy garment to pull it out from under a couple other things. It ended up being thong panties that looked kind of stuck together and he moved to wave it in Kenzie’s direction, just to make her squeal. “These are hot, nothing a little Febreze wouldn’t fix, right?” he teased.
Kenzie shrieked when Chris waved the panties near her and she batted at his arm to try and get the stick, and panties away from her. "That's so disgusting," she exclaimed, though laughter bubbled up in her throat. "I mean, where would those panties even end up that they didn't see them when packing to leave? God." Turning she hurried farther into the basement, listening to some noise overhead which she assumed was footsteps or someone pushing the cleaning cart above them. She turned down a small, narrow clearing with boxes of what looked like unopened cleaning supplies but found herself facing the concrete wall as well. Sighing, she turned back towards Chris and was about to say something when she heard a rather loud thud near the stairs on the other side of the basement. "What the hell was that," she asked him, her eyes wide even as another drunken giggle escaped her. "Oh my god, we're in a horror movie, the two drunken idiots in the creepy basement of a haunted building. Are we that stupid?"
Chris laughed at Kenzie’s reaction, that shriek had made it all worth it. But they were moving on, so he abandoned the stick and panties in the box and followed Kenzie again. “C’mon, you’ve never had a night where panties ended up under the bed?” he was saying when the thud happened. It startled Chris and he turned a bit too abruptly, almost losing his balance. He had to put a hand on the boxes to his right, which swayed dangerously. He was more focused on the noise though, his heart picking up in spite of himself. Chris let out a laugh and looked back at Kenzie. “Prob’ly just a person,” he said, shaking his head. They weren’t stupid. They were not horror movie victims. “We’re professionals, goddammit.” Professionals with no equipment and no shoes on. He started to walk toward the noise, his path weaving a bit. “Hey,” he said loudly. “People’re down here.”
They were professionals, but they were also drunk professionals in their socks without their phones. Kenzie waited for a response from whoever had either opened the door or come down the stairs. It was possible someone just opened the door and tossed down a box or laundry or something, though she was fairly certain the laundry room was located down the hall by the front desk. She heard it running sometimes, could smell the detergent and bleach when she came down for coffee. There was no response, no more thuds or noise. The lights flickered again, went out, and then came back on, but dimmer than before. Kenzie sighed and reached out to take hold of Chris's arm. He was a bit more unsteady on his feet than she was, although she was definitely feeling a bit light headed down from the whiskey and chemical smell down here. "Just wait a second," Kenzie murmured, slipping an arm around his waist to stop him in the aisle. There was old furniture on either side of them and she tried to clear her head long enough to listen for anything unnerving. But it was quiet but for the sound of pipes and the like. Normal things. "I don't hear anything else, do you?" she whispered, glancing up at Chris.
Chris frowned up at the ceiling when the lights went off, and gave an annoyed huff when they came back dimmer. If there was something supernatural fucking with them, it was full of cliches. He’d been about to move forward again when Kenzie was right up against his side with her arm around him. He might’ve been drunk and distracted, but he felt every warm curve of her very keenly. He settled his own arm around her shoulders and listened hard, then shook his head. “No, nothin’,” he agreed in a whisper. He wasn’t sure why they were whispering now, but he was just rolling with it. “Wanna go see?” They might have just knocked something loose that had been ready to fall for forever, or there was an irritated ghost down there, or something worse standing on the stairs waiting to kill them, who even knew. Chris just knew he was getting cold and ready to go back up where there was carpet and no stink of mildew.
"Well, I mean, we'll have to eventually so why wait until whatever that was grows legs and finds us?" Kenzie asked, aware now of Chris's arm on her shoulders. She could feel the strength in his grip and she quickly, and clumsily, stepped forward to put some minor distance between them at least. It was only then she realized she had put her own arm around his waist, which was more touching than she was used to with anyone if she wasn't patching them up or something. "You want to get your thong stick and shake it at whatever awaits us?" Kenzie asked over her shoulder and she started back towards the stairs.
Chris felt even colder when Kenzie pulled her body away from his. Which didn’t make any sense, because it had only been there a moment, but still. Drunk thoughts didn’t always make sense. He felt a little weird and petulant because she’d started it and then took a nice feeling away, but Chris pushed it down. There was still a strange noise to deal with and a basement to leave, he didn’t need to be nursing his crush on his partner. He snickered when she mentioned the thong stick, following along behind Kenzie. “Gross,” he muttered with a crooked sort of grin. That was about all he had to say, so he left it at that.
"Yes, it's definitely gross," Kenzie agreed, smirking softly even if she wasn't facing him. "And just to answer your question before we were interrupted, I've never had my panties end up under the bed. They usually end up over a lamp, or in the ceiling fan." She was mostly joking, but she wanted to keep the atmosphere light in case something dark was waiting for them. But the landing was clear, at least the steps they could see and Kenzie glanced around. They seemed to still be alone, although it was slightly chilly in the area. She could feel it, even with her body still warm from the whiskey. The alcohol made her want to start giggling again. "I don't see anything," she told him. "We should probably go back upstairs though."
“Ooh, kinky,” Chris teased in a lilting voice. Thinking about Kenzie’s panties hanging from a ceiling fan made him wonder what kind of panties they would actually be. She seemed a bit too practical for thongs unless it was a special occasion. Chris pictured her as more of a high-cut bikini kind of girl, maybe with some fun colors just for herself. Or those tiny short kinds that made women’s asses look amazing. Not that he should be picturing any of this. Especially not in a possibly-haunted basement, but it was happening anyway, and his eyes drifted down to Kenzie’s ass as they walked toward the stairs. He moved to lean against the wall and peer up past the landing as much as possible, but Chris didn’t see anything either. “Think it’s all clear,” he said, the words just a tiny bit slurry. “Big strong man goes first again?” Chris grinned at her.
"Definitely not," Kenzie said, shooting him a look as she started up the stairs. "You're pretty close to drunk and if you fall backward, you take me with you." She was pretty close to drunk too, if she wasn't there already, and Kenzie had to grip the handrail tightly as she took every step. There was definitely the feeling that the room was starting to spin, so Kenzie was relieved when she reached the door. The only problem was the handle didn't budge when she tried to turn it. Kenzie tried again, but the door remained shut. "I think it's locked?" she told Chris over her shoulder. "Which doesn't make any sense. You try." She shifted out of the way for him, because maybe she was too drunk to figure this out.
Chris couldn’t really argue that he was fairly drunk. He wasn’t that imparied though, so he grumbled some nonsense protest at her assessment of him. He was just feeling good and pretty invincible and kind of horny and very slightly dizzy, that was all. Loose, that was it. But he made it up the stairs just fine behind Kenzie, and only looked at her ass a little bit. “What?” he muttered as he stepped up closer to the door. It put Kenzie all close to him again, but Chris needed to focus on the door, so that’s what he tried to do. He attempted to turn the knob, failed, jiggled it but that didn’t do anything, then pushed his shoulder against it some. It barely moved. “Well ... shit,” he muttered. Chris shouldered it harder, but still nothing.
Shit was right. Was it that heavy of a door? She couldn't remember. Kenzie pressed her own shoulder against it, but didn't expect it to budge for her if it hadn't moved for Chris. "Hello," Kenzie called, knocking her hand against the door a couple of times. "Can someone help us?" She pressed her ear against the door but heard nothing. The basement was down the hall from the lobby and she had no idea if anyone was even in the lobby. Kenzie slapped on the door again and then huffed, looking up at Chris. "That noise we heard couldn't have been the door locking, right? That was far too loud."
“Yeah, don’t think so,” Chris muttered. Kenzie’s ‘knocks’ sounded pretty pathetic to him, especially when he doubted there was anybody directly in the hallway. “Gettin’ loud for a sec,” he warned, then pounded his fist hard against the door. “Hey! Anybody? Hello?!” he yelled through it. The wood seemed pretty thick and heavy, had it seemed that way when they’d walked down? Chris couldn’t remember now. He put his ear to the door and continued to hear nothing, then cursed under his breath again. “You got your phone or anything?” he asked Kenzie, frowning. How had they both gone anywhere phoneless? Granted, they hadn’t actually left the building, but still. He tried the knob again for no real reason, and it was still locked tight.
Kenzie winced and covered her ears for a few moments as Chris banged on the door. When he seemed to be done she lowered her hands, holding her breath as she waited to see if anyone responded, or opened the door. But she couldn't hear a damn thing out there. Kenzie wanted to sit down. Standing there on the top step was probably semi-dangerous with how much whiskey she knocked back. Unable to help herself, Kenzie shot Chris a mildly perturbed look in response to his question. "I gave you my room key because I have nowhere to put it." She tugged up her t-shirt a little to show him her lack of pockets. "Where on earth would I be able to put my phone?" Sighing, Kenzie started down the stairs again with purpose. "We just find something to jimmy the lock open. There's freaking thongs down here, so they've got to have a tool box or something."
“I dunno ... why don’t bras have pockets or something?” Chris muttered as he started down the steps after her. He didn’t want to go back down there to look for tools, he just wanted to plant his ass on the steps and wait for someone to come by, but he knew a more proactive approach was probably smarter. Fucking automatic locks or whatever, they should’ve checked the knob before they even let it shut. Chris veered right at the bottom of the stairs and started down one of the aisles of junk so they could cover more ground, squinting around for anything that resembled a toolbox. He wasn’t sure what he would do with it, he hadn’t even looked at the door hinges yet, but tools were a good place to start, right? Right.
"Well, I'm not wearing a bra so even if they did have pockets, which they don't, I wouldn't have my phone," Kenzie said over her shoulder. The lights were more dim than they had been before which made it harder to look through boxes, even though she was trying to keep her eye out for an actual tool box. Maybe an old one, because she had to assume they kept a toolbox upstairs for repairs. Being locked in the basement had extinguished her giggles, even if she was still buzzing. Kenzie was feeling restless and low key horny, which only heightened her annoyance with the situation. Why did they have to drink so much whiskey? Or go exploring, like a couple of twelve year old kids. Kenzie wandered further back into the basement, away from Chris. How big was this damn thing, anyway? She was grousing about it to herself under her breath when she started to hear music. It was faint and a bit distorted, like it was playing on an old record player. After a second she recognized it as White Christmas, with an orchestra rather than Bing's voice. Kenzie inhaled sharply for a moment, keeping her gaze ahead of her since that's where the music seemed to be coming from. "Chris?"