A/N: Hello mina-san! Welcome back to Stage 2 of The Pianist!! I apologize for the delay, but motivation and plot were lacking for some time...Anyway, I hope you all like this next chapter. I'm not completely happy with it myself, but I decided to post lest I keep editing it for the next two or three millennia. Ah, well. Please review--suggestions are always welcome! Thank you all so much for reading! Enjoy!!
Stage Two: Armed and Dangerous
Feeling the pianist's eyes still on her, Faye walked away into the dim, smoky back of the bar, and reseated herself. Adjusting her sunglasses, she leaned back lazily in the booth as the pianist started a new set of songs. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the bartender. Only one sad, old man sat up at the bar, sipping slowly away at his still almost full glass. The bartender's movements were slow and even as he ran a cloth around the rim of a clean glass and bobbed his head slightly, in time to the piano's round melodic sound. As Faye watched, he finally set down the glass he had been cleaning for the past five minutes or so, and began a meandering walk towards her table, stopping here and there to check on other customers.
Before Joe the bartender could reach Faye, a man in a dark suit with messy black hair sauntered rather awkwardly up to Faye's table. "Mind if I sit down?" he asked, scooting into the booth across from her without waiting for an answer.
Fayed eyed him with a curious grin on her face. "Nice hair, Jet," she said, biting back a laugh.
"Looks a bit like yours," Jet quipped, and gave his wig a fond pat.
"Go away, or buy me a drink. Actually, I'll need two," Faye said lazily, ignoring the insult. "I already drank this one."
Jet just smirked. Rapping his knuckles on the table, he demanded, "what have you found out?"
"You scared away the bartender. You and that hair of yours. That's one thing."
He glared at her. "So what? I meant about the pianist."
"What pianist?"
"You're just doing this to be irritating. I knew we should have just left you out. Hell, Spike's a much better partner..."
Faye lowered her shades enough to glare over the top. Then, as if giving in, she shook her head a little, readjusted her sunglasses, and pulled out a cigarette. Flicking open her lighter, she lit it, and inhaled deeply. She leaned in closer to Jet, as if to whisper something to him, and then sighed loudly, blowing smoke directly in his face. Jet coughed.
"Damn it," he cursed, pushing himself violently away from the booth and going to buy two drinks. In his frustration and hurry, he practically bowled over the bartender. In a very short time he was back, nearly slamming the two brimming glasses down on the wooden table top.
Faye reached for one with a wide smirk on her face.
"Ah-ah!" Jet said, pulling them back towards them. The smooth glasses clinked together, and a few droplets slid down their sides. "Information first!"
"Fine! He's here okay? If you'd just look over to see where that music is coming from, you'd know he's here!" Her arm snaked out, but he lightly slapped her away.
"Don't be a smart ass. I'm thirsty, and you still have one drink to pay for."
Slumping back into her seat, Faye took a long drag on her cigarette and waited a second for its calming powers to sink in. "Okay...It's definitely him. I'm sure of it. I talked to him, too. He's all alone, but I don't know where he's staying. Anyway, that's all I know so far. I haven't talked to Spike yet either."
Jet handed her one of the drinks. "There, now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He took a drink from his glass. "Ed's upstairs, trying to see what all she could find out about him. She's probably learning everything about him, right now," he added rather fondly.
Faye nodded, balancing her cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, and lifted her glass to her lips. "Have you heard from Spike?"
"Not yet, no." He leaned in closer, resting his arms on the tabletop. "Shit, I hope he's not making a scene."
"He's Spike--of course he is," Faye said dismissively. "He's looking for where the pianist's been staying, right? Well, what if he's staying here?"
"One of us should talk to the bartender then..."
"I suppose I'd better go," Faye sighed. "You already scared him with that hair..."
"Hardy har..." Jet rolled his eyes, and took another drink.
Faye blew a smoke towards the ceiling, thinking. "His name is..."
Wiping his mouth, Jet answered, "Harry."
"Right. Harry." She finished her drink, and set the glass down lightly on the scarred wood. "Later then," she said, sauntering away towards the bar.
Shaking his head, Jet finished his drink. He watched Faye slide gracefully onto the barstool, and signal the bartender, who had been pretending not to be watching her. Turning away, Jet threw some money down on the table, and left to let Faye work her magic.
***
Upstairs, left alone in the room, Ed squealed and turned a cartwheel. Jet had said it was a lot of money. There sure were a lot of zeroes. Landing gracefully, cat-like in front of her computer's screen once more, she idly wondered what sort of person this bounty was, and what exactly he had done.
In her characteristic Ed fashion, she began typing away with her toes. The noise echoed slightly on the bare hotel room, but she was too focused on the screen to notice. Within no time, Ed had found the web site she had been looking for: an information site designed especially for bounty hunters. It contained brief bits of information--name, hair and eye color, height, weight, date of birth, age, and last seen with...
Ed leaned in closer, the screen reflected in her dark goggles. "Ah," she breathed, "Ed found you. Ed found Harold Sullivan..."
***
Faye discreetly straightened her shirt, and swung her hips the entire short walk to the bartender, who was, by this time, undeniably unable to look away.
Upon reaching him, Faye gave a little smile, and said in a breathy voice, "hey."
"H-hello," the bartender coughed. He composed himself quickly, and added, "welcome to my bar. Is everything all right?"
"Mm...looking up," Faye said, pushing back her glasses to give him a suggestive wink.
Bartender Joe tried to pretend not to notice. "Ah, well...Can I get you a drink?"
Faye raised an eyebrow at him silently as she replaced her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose.
"On the house, of course," he added in response. "For the beautiful lady."
"Sounds great," she said, taking the glass he handed her.
"Oh, how rude of me!" he suddenly announced. "I'm Joe, as you probably already figured out."
"I'm..." Faye paused, thoughts flying through her head. No one here would recognize her, by face or name, but should the pianist catch wind of what was going on, then the game was up. She came to a decision in less than a second, and said, "Alice. Nice to meet you."
"Well, Alice...cheers!" Joe said jovially, pouring himself a drink too. They clinked glasses, neither of them looking away for a second, then lifted them to drink.
Faye swallowed and balanced the glass on the bar. "This," she announced, "is a great place."
"Why, thank you."
"No, I mean it. One of the best in the whole galaxy--and trust me, I've been to a lot," Faye went on. She paused, looking around her, then turned back to Joe. "I can't quite put my finger on it..."
Joe cleared his throat. "I can help you with that."
Behind her glasses, Faye rolled her eyes. She guessed she had asked for that, with the whole seduction act at the beginning, but it took all her composure not to gag. She aimed for ladylike disgust, moderately scandalized. "That is not quite what I was referring to."
The icy tone of her voice shut Joe up fast. He looked away as if embarrassed, and took another long sip of his drink.
"I meant more of the whole ambiance of the place. You do," she said condescendingly, "know what that means, I assume?"
Joe nodded, muttering some mumbled, half-hearted thanks under his breath.
"How enlightening. You are a terribly articulate man," Faye said lazily, reaching for her drink again. This was turning out to be a waste of her time.
He glared at her. "What is it that you really want, Alice?"
"Simply a chance to talk with the owner of this fine establishment, and learn more. Am I so transparent?"
"I advise you to watch what you're saying, because you, my friend, are treading on very, very, thin ice..."
***
There was nothing interesting on the site, save a blurry picture of Harry. He had been last seen at home, a fact about as helpful as the fact that he was a man, and no address had been given. Ed sighed in frustration, and pulled her goggles off. Idly, she tumbled over in a series of somersaults to the TV and poked the power button with one toe. Only half-listening, she climbed up on one of the beds, and picked at the fraying end of the comforter in boredom. The theme song to Round-Up trilled shrilly, but she paid it no mind, until she heard it.
"Harold Sullivan, the three million woolong bounty, has still not been found. Bounty hunters are warned to be extremely cautious as this man is said to be armed and highly dangerous..."
***
"All right, in that case, let's cut the bullshit, shall we?" Faye said in her blunt way. "I just came over to ask about the pianist...you know, the guy who plays the piano."
Dropping his more business-like demeanor, Joe replied, "I know what it means! What do you care about the damn pianist anyhow? His name could be Asshole for all I know, see?"
Faye sighed. "He's damn good; that's why I care. But I know his name. Couldn't you just tell me if he'll be back tomorrow night? I've got some friends who would love to hear him play," she lied easily.
"Yeah, yeah. He'll be here for the next couple days, but he didn't want to sign on for any definite amount of time. He owes me until Thursday for boarding him for free."
"He's staying here?" She asked in surprise.
"Nah, bums like him gotta stay someplace else. I put him up for one night and look at the fantastic job I got him! All night he makes money from tips--it's a good deal," Joe explained carelessly. "Far as I know, he stays at the inn just down the street...I forget the name."
It was clear there was little other information she was going to be able to get from Joe. Faye said a hasty good-bye, and headed back off in the general direction of Jet. Maybe there were more clues in the pianist's hotel room...
***
"Here's another little hint for all ya bounty hunters out there," the woman said, with a huge wink. "We now know that Harold Sullivan was just married about a week ago to his long-time sweetheart!"
"Ain't she jist the cutest lil' thing?" drawled the man, holding up a blurry picture on a young brunette.
The woman shook her head sadly, "it's just such a shame that her husband had to go off and become a mass murderer!"
Ed leaned closer, trying to memorize the picture, but it could have been anyone. Just then, the channel dissolved with a loud crack into nothing but static...
***
A/N: Bum, bum, ba-baaaahhh!! Okay--I'm done making my own sound effects, but I'll be back soon with a brand-new chapter! (Soon is relative, for the record...-_-') Don't forget to drop a review on your way out! Thanks for reading!! ~CronoCat =^_^=