Viva Las Vegas (3/?)
By Carol M.
See first part for details
Note: So after seeing The New Stuff, I have concluded that this story takes place sometime in the third season. Sorry it's been taking a long time to get these parts out, but I've been busy with life and trying to combat depression over the Invisible Man. It's hard to write fun stuff when you're totally bummed out. Anyway, hopefully I've gotten over this little bout of writer's block. Enjoy the next part folks!
An hour and fifteen minutes later, Claire emerged from her luxury bathroom in a tight black dress with thin spaghetti straps. Her hair was up in a thick twist, which accented a pair of diamond stud earrings twinkling from her earlobes.
Darien, who had been adjusting his tuxedo and fixing his hair, turned his head to look at her when he heard the bathroom door open. His eyes widened and he let out a catcall of approval. "Well, you're looking mighty fine this evening Mrs. Michaels," he said with a toothy grin.
Claire blushed slightly and then checked out Darien's own appearance, nodding her head slightly. "Thanks. You're looking pretty handsome yourself Mr. Michaels."
Darien pointed at his tux. "This old thing? Naw," he said teasingly. He walked over to the adjoining door to Bobby's room and knocked loudly. "Hey Hobbesy, you almost ready there?"
The door opened, revealing a fetching Bobby Hobbes dressed in his own perfectly tailored tuxedo. He took a glimpse of Claire and his face flushed a light crimson. "You look beautiful, Claire," he said sincerely.
Claire smiled widely, revealing dimples on either cheek. "Thank you. You look quite nice too, Bobby," she responded. She glanced at Darien and then glanced back at Bobby. "Now I've got two handsome men to escort me to our little soiree."
Darien nudged Bobby on the shoulder. "See man, she thinks were handsome."
Bobby smiled and nodded. "You two ready to leave?"
"Yep," answered Darien.
Claire stuck out both her arms. "Gentlemen?"
Darien and Bobby each grabbed one of Claire's arms and the partners proceeded down to the first floor with a glamorous Claire tucked in between them.
When they got to the first floor, they glanced nervously towards a large terrace where they could make out a round table with several older men and women sitting around it. As they got closer, Darien couldn't stifle the anxious chuckle that came out of his mouth "Are they filming a remake of Goodfellas here that I don't know about?" he whispered.
Bobby gave Darien a sharp look and shook his head in annoyance. "It's show time, my friend," he whispered.
The trio made their way on to the terrace, causing the men and women around the table to look up.
"Mr. Michaels?" asked a stocky man in his late fifties who was dressed in a fine looking tuxedo.
Darien nodded and extended his hand. "Roy Michaels," he said as he shook the man's hand.
"John Sabattini," replied the man with a smile as he let go of Darien's hand. "We've heard quite a lot about you."
Darien shrugged. "I wish I could say the same."
"Oh you will, don't worry," said John. He nodded towards an attractive redhead sitting to his left. "This is my wife, Kathy."
Kathy gave Darien an electric smile. "Pleasure," she said in a sweet voice.
Darien gave Claire a slight push forward. "This is my wife, Shirley," he said. He nodded towards Bobby. "And this guys is James Burnett."
Bobby nodded his head in John's direction. "I'm Mr. Michaels security consultant," he added.
"How nice," said John. "There's a table for bodyguards over there," he said as he pointed to a smaller table to their right that was filled with beefy, bouncer looking men.
Darien gave Bobby a sly grin. "Go make some friends, Hob…Burnett."
Bobby smirked and then slinked off towards the other table.
John cleared his throat and looked anxiously at Darien. "Roy, can I call you Roy?"
Darien nodded.
John pointed to a skinny brown-haired man in his forties sitting on his right. "This is Jonathan Spencer and that gorgeous blonde next to him is his wife Tracey," said John as Jonathan and Tracey smiled at Darien.
"Hey, how you doing?" replied Darien.
John continued. "And next to him is Ray Armada." The nerdy bald man smiled shyly at Darien. Darien nodded his head.
" And next to him is Judy and Marvin Kinney," said John, nodding towards an older man and woman. "And finally, we have Jack Hastings," he said as he pointed towards a blonde-haired man in his early thirties.
"Nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Michaels," said Judy.
Claire nodded her head politely and Darien did the same.
"You too," said Darien. His gaze landed on Jack and for a split second, he swore he recognized him from somewhere. Then the strange sensation disappeared and Darien shrugged it off.
"Looking forward to doing business with you," said Jack with cold, searching eyes.
"Likewise," said Darien.
"Why don't you two have a seat, Mr. Michaels," said John.
Darien stepped to the table and pulled out a chair next to Jack for Claire. He sat her down and then took the seat next to her. He looked at John with anticipation. "So uh, what exactly are we going to be doing at this little convention?" asked Darien.
"A little this, a little that, you know how is goes. But enough shoptalk for tonight. Let's just try and enjoy the meal," said John as he picked up a champagne bottle and held it towards Darien.
Darien took the champagne and poured some for himself and Claire.
"I hope you two enjoyed the gift basket in your room, Mr. Michaels," said Judy. "I picked it all out myself."
Claire glanced over at her and nodded her head in appreciation. "Yes, we did, thank you. It was lovely."
"So uh, where are you all from?" asked Darien.
John cleared his throat awkwardly. "We prefer to keep that to ourselves, Roy. The less we know about one another, the better."
"Oh right, I get it," said Darien. He looked at Claire and gave her a confused glance. "So uh..uh...
A roar of laughter from the other table interrupted the awkward attempt at conversation. The group glanced over at the other table and saw Bobby standing up on his chair, seeming to beat the crap out of someone who wasn't there. "Yeah, yeah and then after that, I kicked the punk out onto the street. That was the last time he ever gave me any lip. Nobody messes with James Burnett, my friends," he said as he stepped down from the chair and pounded his chest with his fists.
The men once again roared in laughter. Darien glanced at Claire and rolled his eyes. Claire smiled in amusement.
"Well, it seems like Mr. Burnett has made some new friends," said John.
"That's our James, always getting into trouble wherever he goes," said Darien. "Isn't that right, sweetie?" he said as he put his arm around her.
"Yes, honey," said Claire through clenched teeth.
Darien pulled his arm away and took a wealthy swig of his champagne, finishing off the glass. He reached for the bottle and poured another glass.
The night went on, filled with lobster tails, steak and lots of champagne for Darien. By the time, it was midnight, Darien had had seven glasses, which was about six too many glasses for Claire. Darien was in the middle of an obnoxious story about his first criminal act when Claire stood up from the table in annoyance. "It's getting late, I think I'm going to turn in," said Claire.
Darien pulled her back down into the chair. "Oh come on, Shir, the night is still young. Give me a little sugar," he said as he leaned in and pressed a wet kiss against her lips.
Claire backed away in anger. "Honey, what did I tell you about that," she said, barely suppressing her anger.
Darien glanced at the rest of the table, noticing 16 pairs of eyes staring at him. He looked back at Claire and gave her a full on puppy dog eye glance. "Just give me little kiss, baby," he said as he leaned back towards her and started to kiss her hard, slipping his tongue between her lips.
"Stop it, Roy," she said in a muffled voice against his lips.
Darien ignored her and kept kissing her, working his hand through her hair.
At this point, Bobby turned around from the other table and gazed at Darien and Claire, jealousy raging from his eyes. But Darien was too busy kissing Claire to noticed.
"Darien, stop it," Claire whispered into his ear.
Darien pulled her even closer and continued to kiss her.
Claire pulled harshly out of his grip and slapped him across the face as hard as she could. Then she got out of her chair and ran out of the room in a huff.
The slap managed to sober Darien up slightly and he realized what he had been doing. "Claire," he shouted as he watched her run out of the room.
"Claire?" said John in confusion.
"Ah, yeah, it's her middle name," he said distractedly as he stood up from his chair. "Um, I think I'm going to call it a night too," he said in John's direction.
"Okay, we'll send someone up with information about tomorrow. It will be a very important day, don't be late," said John in a slightly annoyed tone.
Darien nodded. "Thanks man," he said as he quickly walked out of the room.
Bobby was on his heels in a heartbeat. He grabbed Darien by the jacket and turned him around. "What the hell was that, Fawkes?" he yelled.
"Drunken stupidity or drunken genius, take your pick," slurred Darien.
Bobby gave him the evil eye and then brought his knee up sharply into Darien's groin. Darien fell to the floor in a pain filled heap. Bobby stood over him, shaking his head. "You're being a jerk, Fawkes. If I ever see you do that again, I'm going to kick your skinny ass."
Darien moaned and clutched his stomach, which was starting to ache with pain and nausea. "Hobbes," he whimpered.
"What?" asked Bobby in anger.
"I think I'm gonna be sick," he whispered.
"Damn it, Fawkes," said Bobby as he quickly hauled Darien to his feet and dragged him to the men's room. He tossed him into a stall and then shut the door, leaning his back against the elegant marble of the stall door. He could hear Darien puking and dry heaving and it was starting to make him reconsider the seconds he had had for dessert. "Serves you right, punk, I'll be outside," said Bobby as he dashed out of the bathroom.
Five minutes later, Darien emerged from the bathroom looking sweaty and pale. He gave Bobby an apologetic glance. "Sorry, buddy. I was out of line," he said softly.
Bobby crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not the one you need to apologize to pal," responded Bobby.
Darien looked down at his feet. "Yeah," he said sheepishly.
Bobby nodded towards the elevators. "Go and make good with the Keep. I'll go back to our criminal friends and see if I can't get a little intel."
Darien nodded. "Okay," he said as he started for the elevators. He stopped and turned back to look at Bobby. "Hobbes," he shouted after Bobby.
Bobby turned around. "Yeah Fawkes."
"Watch out for Hastings. There's something up with that guy," said Darien.
"Bobby Hobbes has got it covered, my friend," said Bobby as he turned around and headed back to the terrace.
Darien made his way into the elevator, giving a slight nod to the elevator man. When he got up to the fifth floor, he tipped the guy five bucks and stepped out of the car. He put his hands in his pockets and walked to his room.
"Claire," he said as he knocked softly on the door. "It's Darien. Can I come in?"
There was no response.
"Claire, I'm sorry. I was a jerk," he said as he leaned his head against the door. A wave of vertigo swept through him and he nearly lost his footing. "Claire let me in, please, I think I'm gonna pass out."
The door opened then, revealing Claire who was dressed in a silk nightgown. Darien would have fallen through the door if Claire hadn't have reached her arms out to catch him. "Darien," she said in a tone that was a combination of anger and worry.
"I'm sorry," he said as she led him over to the couch.
Claire set him down on the couch and brought over a blanket from the bed, draping it over him. "That'll teach you, Darien. Are you going to be sick?" she asked.
Darien shook his head. "Naw, I already took care of that," he said as he lay back against the couch and tried to relax. His stomach suddenly did a flip-flop and his eyes shot Clairea look of panic. "Oh crap, maybe not," he said as he put a hand over his mouth and ran to the bathroom. He dropped in front of the toilet and vomited again, bracing against the floor on his hands and knees.
Sometime later after the vomiting had stopped, he felt someone rubbing his back and wiping his face with a damp cloth. He looked up at Claire with a miserable expression on his face. "How do you put up with me?" he asked.
Claire smiled. "Because the Official pays me a lot of money to take care of you," she said as she helped him to his feet. "Let's get you to the couch so you can sleep this off."
"No arguments here," said Darien as his eyes started to close. He let Claire guide him back to the couch and then collapsed into it, pulling the blankets over his body. He looked up at her with the puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry about everything, you know that right?"
"I know," she said. "It wasn't all bad," she added mysteriously.
"Oh really?" said Darien.
Claire gave him a smug expression. "Wouldn't you like to know," she said slyly.
"I would actually," said Darien.
Claire patted him on the shoulder and walked towards the bed. "Go to sleep, I'm sure our new friends have big plans for you tomorrow," she said as she crawled into bed.
"Goodnight," said Darien.
"Night," said Claire as she buried herself under the covers and closed her eyes.
All was silent in the room for several minutes. Claire was about to drift into a deep sleep, but Darien couldn't seem to relax. Finally, he sat up on the couch and looked over at the bed. "Claire?"
A muffled groan was his response.
"Are you awake?" he asked.
Claire sat up in bed. "What?" she asked in an irritated tone.
"Something's funny with this whole thing," said Darien.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"That Hastings guy. I got this weird vibe from him," he said.
"It was probably the alcohol," said Claire. "Can I go back to sleep now?"
"Okay," said Darien. "Goodnight," he said.
"Uh huh," responded Claire with a yawn as she cuddled back up in her bed.
"Claire," said Darien.
"Oh bloody hell, what now?" said Claire in anger.
"You look good in black," he said teasingly.
Claire threw a pillow at him in anger.
It hit Darien squarely on the head. "Hey, watch the hair."
"Go to sleep, Darien or I will be forced to sedate you," replied Claire in a forceful tone.
"Fine," said Darien as he took off his coat and shirt. He lay back down in his undershirt and pants and covered himself with the blanket. He sank against the pillow and tried desperately to place Jack Hastings in his mind. But the answer never came that night and instead, he fell into a dizzying, drunken sleep.
TBC by Wed or Thurs. After that, I'll get my ass in gear and start posting a part a day.