Title: The Hotel Room
Author: Dru
E-mail:
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Yves is willing to pay the Gunmen a large sum of money if they help her get incriminating evidence on an English business man. However, the only way to get it makes Langly very jealous. Langly/OC
Disclaimers: However much I may wish, I do not own our favorite conspiracy theorists. Still, the only things in this story that I do own are Rebecca Morris and the plot. This is part seven in the 'Objects out of Place' series.
A/N: I apologize for the long wait for this to come out, I'm working on another fan fiction at the same time at this one and I have been on vacation in Lake George for the past 7 days and just got back an hour ago. Funny thing about that, coming back...I should have been back about five hours ago but we got rear ended by a speeding semi on I-78 in Jersey (that place is a death trap) and had to go through the whole insurance hell and getting a rental car...it was awful.
It wasn't really late, only ten o' clock, regardless Langly felt like he was going to collapse. He hadn't been sleeping well lately, ever since Jimmy, Yves, Rebecca, and Kimmy had been kidnapped. They had escaped on their own, and had called them once they had reached a campsite near where they had been dropped. Lake Peru, Lake Peru, it was so obvious and none of them even saw it. Not one of them had even though of it being one of the words in the poem, they assumed the poem in it's entirety was the clue.
He was pretending to be researching his article, not that he even remembered what he had said it would be about. Lately he had been rather distracted, by a certain girl with black hair. Although he considered it unfair to refer to her as a girl, she was twenty-eight but still four years younger than him. They picked on each other all the time, it made him feel like he was back in grade school and when you liked a girl you made fun of her. He wasn't in grade school anymore and he didn't know if their little bickering meant anything.
The door bell buzzed loudly, disrupting Langly's deep thoughts. Whoever was at the door was impatient because they kept on ringing it and ringing it until Frohike and Byers went to open it.
"What are you doing here?" Frohike asked, opening the door wider to let Yves in.
"I need your help, as much as I hate to say it," she replied, stepping inside their offices. "Where's Rebecca?"
"Home, she left hours ago," Langly said, getting up from the computer where he really wasn't doing much of anything at all.
"Well call her," Yves ordered.
"Why should I? And why should we even help you?" he challenged her, folding his arms across his chest in a show of defiance.
"Because I will pay you one hundred thousand dollars," Yves pulled out a wad of bills from her skin tight suit. "Now call her,"
The red numbers on the alarm clock glowed 10:04, but Rebecca Morris ignored them, burying herself under her numerous layers of blankets and continued her futile attempt to sleep. Her next door neighbor had offered to take her out to a club tonight as she had done for the past week, but she declined figuring that she should at least attempt to catch some more sleep. Now she was regretting refusing her offer since she couldn't get to sleep, and there was nothing really good on TV.
In the distant place that was her living room she heard a phone ring but decided to ignore it, not really wanting to get up and find out who it was. She figured that it was come telemarketer, no one else ever really called her. Although both her parents and all three of her siblings were still alive and she was on good terms with them, they never called or visited; they all had their own lives.
The phone rang again and again she ignored it, deciding to give up her pitiful attempt at sleep and get up and do something more productive than lying in bed and stewing in memories of her near death experience. It didn't help that it was underwater, yet another event to add to her Why-I'm-Afraid-Of-Large-Bodies-Of-Water list. Sometimes she felt her phobia was justified, and now she knew that it was, first the vacuum cleaner incident and now this. She wasn't afraid of water so much as she was afraid of drowning.
Once more the phone rang and she just turned up The Wallflowers to block it out, both her neighbors were gone at night and no one lived below her so she figured she could play it as loud as she wanted. She idly wondered if The Wallflowers was one of the bands that Langly liked, and almost as soon as she thought it she mentally smacked herself. Rebecca knew very well she couldn't get involved with Langly, mainly because she was afraid of the whole getting hurt thing, ever since her last relationship ended badly because neither her nor her ex would give up their jobs for each other; which pretty much said a lot about their relationship.
She spent about twenty minutes doing nothing much at all but listening to her music and sometimes singing aloud to it in her voice that would put nails on a chalkboard to shame. It felt very liberating to do nothing but sing along to songs and to forget everything but The Wallflowers singing about some song telling people to get out of the water. Then there was a loud knock on the door and some people shouting from the hall.
"Why didn't you answer the phone?" Yves demanded, forcing her way into the apartment as soon as Rebecca had opened the door. She was rather surprised to see the Gunmen, Jimmy and Yves walk into her apartment. And she nearly turned bright red when she realized that she was in her flannel deer pajamas and that her hair was a complete mess.
"I was-" she paused, thinking and wishing that Langly would stop staring at her pajamas. "-busy,"
"Oh, do you have company. Other than the incredibly loud, and bad, music that you were playing?" Yves set down the canvas bag she was carrying down on the couch.
"No," she leaned over, trying to see what was in the bag.
"Put this on," Yves pulled out a black dress and threw it at her.
"What? Why," Rebecca asked, examining the dress.
"I told you to put the dress on and why is because you are attending a ball in under two hours and you must be prepared," she explained. "Now put it on,"
"Why don't you?" she asked, still looking at the sparkly dress.
"Because you will need to get yourself invited to a man's hotel room and steal some documents, and that man would recognize me," she sat down on the couch. "Now put it on, I don't want to have to ask you again,"
"First of all you never asked, and why not just break into his hotel room?" she asked yet another question, folding up the dress and draping it over her arm.
"Because there are alarms that would go off and I don't know where they are and I don't have time to find them before he gets rid of the documents and because if they go off they would alert a large number of guards. I wouldn't have time to retrieve the documents and get out before they arrive," she was quite obviously getting impatient.
"And I'll have time to get out?"
"Yes, you have sufficient time between the time you break out and the time the guards arrive to get to where we'll be parked," she said, growing annoyed. "Now put the dress on,"
"Fine," she turned and went into her bathroom, quickly putting the dress on and removing her pajamas. She was very glad to be rid of those, they were old and ratty. Rebecca looked at herself in the mirror, the dress was beautiful. It was made out of a velvety material and had lots of sparkles that caught the light, the upper half was done in a halter top style and was daringly low cut while the bottom nearly reached the floor and had a slit in it that reached up a little bit past her knees. It looked very good on her and brought to mind awkward school dances where she hadn't worn anything half this nice.
After twirling around a couple of times just to see the bottom of the dress spread out and fly up a little bit, she went back into the living room. Everyone looked surprised, except Yves she just looked amused.
"Damn," Frohike said, staring as were the other three boys.
"You do look very nice Rebecca," Byers complemented her, being as polite as ever.
"Yeah, you look...very...what they said," Langly added, practically drooling.
"If you four don't pick your jaws up from the floor they'll gather dust," Yves commented, smirking. "Although I must agree with Byers, I'm sure more boys would notice you if you dressed suitably more often,"
"Thanks, I'm not quite sure if that's a compliment or not but I'll be optimistic," Rebecca smiled, glad to have all the attention.
"Now we have to do your hair and makeup," Yves led her into the bathroom.
"Damn and here I thought that I was getting off light,"
It was nearing midnight as the van pulled into the parking lot of the fancy hotel where the ball was being held. Rebecca exited the van, her hair once disheveled and messy is now in neat curls. She even has on a few pieces of jewelry, all of them serving another purpose than the normal. Her silver earrings allow the Gunmen, Jimmy, and Yves back in the van to talk to her while her necklace allows her to talk to them and also provides the guys in the van with a live video of what's going on.
"I just hope I have past midnight," she muttered to herself as she ran, or tried to run since the shoes Yves had given her were already starting to hurt her feet, to the hotel entrance.
"Ma'am where do you think you're going?" a guard stopped her as she was trying to get into the ballroom.
"Into the ball," she pointed to the doors leading to the event.
"Invitation only," he said gruffly.
"I have one, she pulled the false one Yves had given her out of her purse and showed it to the guard.
"Of course, go right on in," he courteously opened the door and allowed her to enter, a complete change from his earlier attitude towards her.
The ballroom looked like something out of a fairy tale: two of the walls were covered in floor to ceiling windows, there was a marble stair case, complete with matching dance floor, a small orchestra playing classical music, there was even a large chandelier. She held her breath in awe as she descended the staircase, feeling a lot like Cinderella and smiled knowing that it was past midnight and she would be here for a while.
"It's rather ostentatious, don't you think," a voice said from behind her.
"I like it," she replied, whirling around to see the man standing behind her. "It's fairy tale-esque,"
"That is not a word," he said, jokingly as he handed her a drink. She looked at it for a moment, he looked like the man that Yves had showed her the photograph of, the one she was supposed to find, how lucky.
"That's him," Yves said through her earring. "Flirt with him, it's not hard, I know," Now that her suspicions were confirmed, she took the drink from his hand.
"I know it's not a word. I made it up," she smiled, pretending to take a sip.
"Creative, I like it," he drank about half of his drink in one big gulp, grimacing due to the strongness of the alcohol. Rebecca knew that she shouldn't have any, she got drunk incredibly easily; and being drunk would not be beneficial to the mission. "Of course, I like beautiful women too,"
"Really?" once more she pretended to take a sip. "Well I guess one out of two isn't that bad,"
"Don't sell yourself short, love," he said, his British accent becoming slurred from the alcohol. "Hey, I have an idea,"
"Must be a new occurrence for him," she heard Langly mumble through her earring. She would have rolled her eyes, but then he would notice and think she was rolling her eyes at him; which she would have done had she not had to get this guy to take her to his room. So instead of rolling her eyes she smiled at Langly's show of jealousy.
"What?" she asked, trying to keep from laughing at his comical pose. He was standing with his head tilted towards the ceiling, his hand on his chin as he stroked an imaginary beard.
"Let's dance," he tossed his, now empty, glass in a trash can and grabbed her arm, pulling her closer to him.
"Sure," she placed her, still full, glass on the tray next to the can designated for glassware. "Let's," she smiled more when she heard Langly mutter what she believed to be a curse word over the microphone. Rebecca couldn't really tell since it was so quiet.
"Stop acting like a jealous child," Yves reprimanded Langly, this time she was sure of what was being said.
Rebecca tried to ignore the heavy stench of alcohol on her partner's breath as they danced. Of course, he was so drunk the dance was pretty much them just swaying back and forth to the music which was intended for some sort of Waltz.
"I hate these things, they're so formal," he whispered in her ear, his lips hovering near her ear as if he were going to kiss her there.
"Then let's leave," she pulled away from him. "And go somewhere less in your words ostentatious,"
"I like the way you think," he placed his hand on her waist and led her towards the exit. And once more she was nearly positive that Langly had whispered a string of curse words into the microphone, acting ,as Yves had put it, like a jealous child. "My hotel room is nice,"
"Your hotel room it is,"
"Langly, you're going to distract her," Yves reminded him, taking the microphone out of his hands. "If you don't stop acting so juvenile,"
"I'm not being juvenile," he protested, trying to grab the microphone back.
"Yes, you are," she insisted, keeping the microphone out of the reach of Langly. "You're acting very jealous, perhaps you wish you were the one taking Rebecca to your room?"
"That creep doesn't deserve her," he mumbled.
"And you do?"
"Bite me," Langly muttered, slinking off and trying to get as far away from Yves as he could which in the van was less than five feet.
"Juvenile? Of course not," Yves said sarcastically as she turned the microphone on and addressed Rebecca. "You're looking for a manila folder, it should be marked Project Penny. And don't forget to knock him out with the sodium penathanol before you begin your search,"
Rebecca heard Yves but couldn't reply, couldn't tell her that they had gone over this a million times and that she knew exactly what she would do. If she did her companion might suspect that she was either crazy or wired. That would not bode well for the mission. They reached his hotel room quickly, it was on the third floor and right next to the stairwell the numbers 345 written hanging on it in gold fancy letters nailed to the door.
"Murder central," she muttered, as he used his electronic key to open the door.
"What was that?" he asked, pushing the door open to let her inside.
"Nothing, it's just something that I saw on a TV show," replied Rebecca, walking into the room which was every bit as fancy as the ballroom. She noticed a stack of manila folders sitting on the coffee table and figured that the folder containing the information about Project Penny, which Yves had told them was a plot to smuggle opium into America, would be in that stack.
"Well, here we are," he said, pulling her to him; they were so close that her chest was nearly touching his stomach. Now that she was in she could do what she came here to do and get out. She quickly reached into her purse and pulled out the sodium penathanol disguised as lipstick and injected him with it, knocking him out quickly. He fell to the floor with a thud.
"Well done," Yves voice said from the earring. "Now find the project,"
"I see a stack of folders over there on the coffee table," she walked over to the glass table and began to go through the folders, looking for the one she needed. "I see you found a way to keep Langly quiet," she added.
"Yes, I managed to,"
"I found it," Rebecca grabbed one of the folders she had scattered around. Printed one it in bold red letters were the words: PENNY PROJECT.
"Good now get out of there," Yves ordered. "We're still parked in the garage,"
"Right," she said, taking the folder and pushing open the door as the walked out into the hallway. By the time she had reached the van her feet felt even worse and she was cursing the shoes, they were obviously a few sizes too small.
"Thank you," Yves grabbed the folder as soon as she got into the van.
"I'm getting these shoes from hell off," she grimaced as she pulled them off of her feet which were now pretty red. "That went well,"
"It did, even with Langly's jealousy," she smirked.
"I was not jealous," Langly shouted angrily as they pulled out of the parking lot.
"It was sweet that you were Langly," she reached over and kissed him on the cheek. He turned bright red and Rebecca giggled.
"He has probably never been kissed by a gal before," Yves stated, still smirking.
"Shut up already,"
THE END
