Who: Eliot Spencer and Clark Kent When: Early evening What: Looking for a place to stay Where: Streets Rating: TBD Status: Incomplete
Five hours earlier, he'd left Nate's apartment after they'd called it quits on the renovations and headed back to his own. Keys dropped on the coffee table, the sawdust-covered hitter had dropped down onto the couch and closed his eyes for what felt like minutes. Then someone had blasted their damn horn and he'd woken up on a bench in Kansas. If that wasn't weird enough, the information he'd gotten off those message boards had really been the winner. Demons. Alternate realities. It all sounded like something Hardison would pull with Parker's input, because it was just that damn strange.
He couldn't reach the rest of the team and all he had was whatever was on his person when he'd fallen asleep. At the moment he had a fake ID, fake badge, his phone, and enough money for a few nights in a motel room, meals, and that rock salt that had been suggested. He still couldn't believe he was taking the suggestion seriously but after waking up somewhere he didn't belong, he had to take somethings on faith.
There was a little light left when he left the diner. Kansas being one of those few places he hadn't been to before, he was going to need directions. "Excuse me." Seeing someone coming, Eliot smiled sheepishly. "I'm a little turned around. Could you tell me where the nearest motel is?" A small pause. "And the hardware store."