A/N: Okay, I started this earlier than I thought I would, but I got bored when I was supposed to be writing a science essay. Feel privileged :)
BTW, obviously there's going to be character death. And I had to make Angel alive, because I needed ten Bohos.
This poem is originally "Ten Little Indians" by Agatha Christie. It usually says "Ten little Indian boys... etc" Replace Bohos with Indian boys and you have her poem. And I don't own it.
Summary: The Bohos take a trip to an island off of Florida, and live in an apartment complex owned by the Greys. While testing out the complex, things go terribly wrong. They're locked in, and a murderer is locked in with them. One by one the friends are killed, leaving the others to figure out who's killing in this whodunit.
Prologue
Ten little Bohos went out to dine;
One choked his little self and then there were nine.
Nine little Bohos sat up very late;
One overslept himself and then there were eight.
Eight little Bohos traveling in Devon;
One said he'd stay there and then there were seven.
Seven little Bohos chopping up sticks;
One chopped himself in halves and then there were six.
Six little Bohos playing with a hive;
A bumblebee stung one and then there were five.
Five little Bohos going in for law,
One got in Chancery and then there were four.
Four little Bohos going out to sea;
A red herring swallowed one and then there were three.
Three little Bohos walking in the zoo;
A big bear hugged one and then there were two.
Two little Bohos sitting in the sun;
One got frizzled up and then there was one.
One little Boho left all alone;
He went and hanged himself and then there were none.
"We really need to get the hell out of here."
The Life Café was where the Bohos had met that particular meeting—all ten of them. Mimi Marquez sat next to her boyfriend, Roger Davis. Well, on top of him, rather. Next to them, Tom Collins and his boyfriend Angel Schunard held each other in a tight embrace. Angel was decked out in drag and was looking particularly attractive, and Collins was decked out in... well, a beanie and a joint.
Not everyone could look as amazing as Angel.
Across the table, Mark Cohen was kissing his girlfriend of one full year, Samantha Westwell. She was giggling and trying to work the camera out of Mark's grasp, but he kept his eye on it, even as he kissed her deeply. Next to them was Maureen Johnson (even though she was Mark's ex, the two of them managed to remain friends) and Joanne Jefferson, lovers and fighters the same.
And the newest addition to the group, two people they'd reacquainted with in the past seven months, Benjamin Coffin the Third and his wife, Alison Grey. Benny had been best friends with the other Bohemian men, but when he married Alison, his father-in-law wanted him to force them to pay the rent Benny had assured was taken care of.
However, Benny apologized and gave back the money later, not caring about his job with Mr. Grey. Though Roger was still suspicious about him, Benny had pretty much been initiated back into the group, and Alison had been just as welcomed as he had been.
Now Benny was making a suggestion. "Come on, can't we all just pitch in and, like, go rent a house somewhere? On an island? Away from everything?" He took a swig of beer.
"Yeah, Benny, sure," Mark chimed in, moving away from where Sam was still trying to kiss him. "Where are we gonna freaking find a five bedroom house that we can afford? On an island? Please. I bet we could all pitch in and find one, but not one with five bedrooms."
Collins shrugged and took a drag of his cigarette. "I'm sure we could manage it. Maybe not five bedrooms, but if there were three of them, and then a spare, and maybe the living room? I think we'd be able to pull it off. And it sounds like a great plan to me. Better than that bullshit Santa Fe thing we had goin' for a while," he laughed a deep laugh and Angel playfully smacked him upside the head.
Alison lifted her head from Benny's shoulder. "My Dad was actually talking about this apartment complex his company just built," she threw in, taking a drag of her cigarette. Her straight orange hair dangled near her ribs. "He always has someone live in it to try it out, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if we experimented. It's on an island off the coast of Florida."
Instantly, all attention was on her. "Tell us more," Benny said, nudging her so she would keep talking. Smiling, she realized that this could actually work. Her dad would love to have a group of people try out his apartment, and he'd trust his daughter any day of the week.
"I've only heard a little bit, but it's just your regular ol' apartment complex. Five stories high, ten rooms on each floor. There're two big elevators in the middle that separate the halls, five rooms on each side of the hall. The single rooms have a kitchen, one bath, a living room, and a bedroom. The double rooms have a kitchen, two baths, a living room, and two bedrooms."
The Bohemians were grinning as she spoke. "There's one quadruple room on each floor. They're better known as party rooms—they have one huge living room, four bathrooms, three baths, a gigantic kitchen. That could be where we hang out and get drunk, and then each of us can take a room on the same floor, or we can spread out. If we ever get sick of each other, we'll all spread out—two people to a floor, one person to a hall."
The idea sounded better the more she talked about it. "This sounds like a great idea!" Angel squealed, and Mimi agreed with her. "I'm sick of New York. Of course, I'll miss it when we're there, but an island? Off the coast of Florida? Imagine how warm it is down there!" she cried.
"I think we should do it," Sam admitted, looking at Roger. "What do you say, Rog? You're always the one who disagrees," she joked. Roger didn't look pleased, so she reached over and hugged him. "Awwh, I'm sorry, Roger, I didn't mean to make you mad. But, come on, wouldn't this be a ton of fun?"
Roger studied the blonde woman. "You're right, Sammy," he nodded, taking a big gulp of beer. "I'd do it in a heartbeat. I'm starting to get claustrophobic here, and I'd love to live carefree on an island off of Florida... finally go somewhere and do something that didn't result in consequence, you know what I mean?" he asked. Thought it was a rhetorical question, everyone answered in unison.
"I know what you mean."
"That sounds great," Maureen drained her cup. "The quadruple room could be where we all meet in the morning, you know, that's where we stay most of the day, but we go to our own rooms to sleep and dress and get ready."
"Everyone agree to it?" Collins asked, and raised his glass. The other Bohemians joined in, raising their own glasses.
"So," he turned to Alison, "when do we leave?"
A/N: Anyone who can guess who the killer will be gets points. It could be ANYONE. It could be someone in the crowd at Over The Moon, it gets that specific. If you get it right, I have cookies! Plus, you get major bragging rights :)
And don't let loyalty get in the way.
-snicker- I KNOW WHO THE MURDERER IS!
Oh, and I know this is short. It's just a prologue. Expect the chapters to generally be long. I have to tell this WHOLE thing in only ten chapters. Twelve, counting the prologue and epilogue.
REVIEW!
–Steph.