Fire crackled in the fireplace of Kilmister Castle, where a lone butler spent all his time roaming the gloomy halls, serving nobody. Nobody except his Persian cat, Victoria. The flames of his candelabra were the only source of light in those dark and dreary halls as he led Victoria down the grand staircase and into the foyer. Candlelight flickered along the old fashioned, Victorian wallpaper, showing off its deep crimson and elegant gold brocade.

"Come, Victoria." he spoke in a posh, British accent as he stepped lightly down the staircase. Weaving between his legs, she meowed and rubbed her arched back against him affectionately.

He had led a lonely life, a life with no friends and no family. The only companion Kilmister truly had was Victoria, and she followed him everywhere he went. They were inseparable, two peas in a pod. Both coming from places of solitude and sorrow. Having no master to serve, and no one to talk to, Kilmister made the decision to run his castle as a fancy hotel for the lost souls out there with no place to stay. At least that's how he described his guests.

On the outside, Kilmister Castle was a lovely sight to behold, built out of stone and mortar. This caught the eye of Kilmister's visitors, people seeking a hotel for the night. And Kilmister loved having guests, but there was one little catch he always refused to disclose to them.

You can check out whenever you like, but you can never leave.

Victoria hopped up onto the sofa and curled up into a ball. Firelight flickered on her white, silky fur as she closed her large, icy blue eyes and purred off to sleep. Kilmister set the candelabra down on the coffee table and stood formally by the sofa where she lay.

"Yes, let us chase the cold chill of the cellar from our weary bones." he said, taking a seat on a baroque chair made of giltwood and red velvet upholstery. Kilmister stared blankly into the fire, watching it dance wildly in the fireplace as he listened to Victoria pur. "Pity. I am going to miss the sound of that lovely, young woman's voice. She was rather inquisitive, that one."

Victoria's eyes cracked open, acknowledging him, then closed them again as though she found herself disinterested in hearing him drone on.

"Well," Kilmister said monotonously, raising intertwined fingers to his pointed chin, "let's make the castle a little more inviting, shall we?"

On the walls of the castle, there were no windows. No doors. No cracks or crevices, nor vents. The young woman he spoke of had been there for a short amount of time, living under Kilmister's dubious care. Slowly over time, she began to lose her mind and grow more pale and sickly. In those years, she never saw a single door or window that would allow her the sunlight her body craved. Her eyesight had gradually gone to ruin due to living in such darkness with merely candles and a fireplace as her only source of light. But Kilmister assured her that she was being well taken care of, that she had been looking quite ill since the night of her arrival. She needed him, he'd tell her, though in the beginning her feelings were far from mutual.

After finally giving up escaping the castle, the young woman came to rely on Kilmister almost as if she'd grown a strange fondness for him in her despair. He was all she had, and there was no questioning it – he did care for her, and she over time came to love him. But her living conditions eventually took their toll on her, and after years of living in darkness, and abiding by the strict rules of Kilmister Castle, her eccentric caretaker declared that the young lady passed away in the confines of her room.

Now, Kilmister was alone. Oh, but there would be more guests, he was sure of it. And he'd have a wonderful time serving them until their final breath. The reflection of fire danced on his empty, steel blue eyes. Doors and windows dissolved into plain sight on the walls all throughout the castle. The tip of Victoria's fluffy tail swished back and forth as she peered through thinly open eyelids and let out an unimpressed meow.

Kilmister rose from his seat. Moonglow seeping through the tall windows behind him shined on the back of his neck as he fixed his suit collar, revealing a black tattoo of a snake eating its own tail. His collar was pulled back up, and the tattoo was no longer visible.

"I suspect we will have new arrivals soon." he said with little to no enthusiasm. "I can hardly wait."

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"The thing is," Polnareff said, speaking so that he wouldn't wake Merlin, "I felt terrible for giving you that scar. It was really hard to let go and move on." he hung his head. "I wish I could take it back."

Gael faintly smiled, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove through the dark. "Hey, that was a long time ago. Let's not dwell on it, alright?" There was a pause. Polnareff sighed, looking down at the console. "And apology accepted." Gael said.

Polnareff glanced up. "Huh? But I didn't say –"

Gael laughed quietly. "In your own way, yeah you did."

He had a point. Technically, Polnareff didn't say he was sorry, but the fact that he was opening up to Gael about how bad it made him feel pretty much told him this was his attempt at an apology. Maybe it wasn't a well thought-out apology, but it was a start. Polnareff honestly wanted to do a better job of it. Simply saying he felt bad for unintentionally defenestrating Gael wasn't going to cut it. He needed to prove it somehow, regardless of his own conflictions about whether he could fully trust him or not. That didn't matter. He had to make things right.

Gael's eyes were droopy, closing whilst he drove. Polnareff caught him nodding off and quickly reached for the steering wheel, keeping the vehicle steady. "Gael, wake up!"

His eyes snapped open and he let out groggy, incoherent speech. "What! Oh!" Gael yawned and reclaimed the wheel from Polnareff, slowing the car's speed to roughly 35 mph.

Hadn't he gotten any sleep since coming to Italy? It'd been a few days already. Polnareff felt he didn't need to push himself this hard. It was only fair that Gael got as much sleep as they did. But every time someone offered to help him out, he'd decline and just do whatever he felt he needed to do. Stubborn idiot. Apparently someone needed to keep vigil over him, so Polnareff stayed leaning over the console to make sure that if he did drift back to sleep, he'd at least be close enough to react before they could have a wreck.

"Why don't we stay somewhere for the night?" he suggested.

"Nah," Gael said, blinking the heaviness from his eyes, "I got this. You just take it easy and get some sleep. You need it."

" You need it more. Come on, stop pushing yourself so hard. There's always tomorrow."

"Nope, nope, can't…can't…aaahh…" Gael's lids were too heavy to hold open any longer.

Polnareff sighed harshly. He knew he was going to regret what he was about to do. Grabbing the gear shifter, he pushed it all the way in park. The park pawl rattled, making an awful mechanical racket grating to the ears. Gael jerked awake as the sudden lurch of the vehicle woke Eva and Merlin into a panic. Eva let out a high-pitched yelp, hitting her head against the window of the car. The noise alerted Merlin to appear from the key and assess the situation.

"What the devil is going on?" he cried.

Gael quickly turned the key, shutting off the car. After everything calmed down, he shot a look at Polnareff, who was lifting his head away from the steering wheel and groaning in pain.

"Are you off your nut?! You wanna fuck up the transmission?"

"Hey! You were falling asleep, and it's not like my feet can reach the brakes from back here."

"I told you I got it!" Gael snarled. He turned his attention back to the steering wheel and pressed his foot on the brake, cranking the ignition to see how the car would act. "Fackin' dumbass." he muttered.

Polnareff leaned against the back seat with his arms crossed, looking at Gael in contempt as he continued to drive off slowly. "You're welcome…"

"Master Callaghan," he heard Merlin say, "I think it would be in everyone's best interest if you find us a place to rest for the remainder of the night."

Gael waved a hand, dismissing his words. "Relax, I got it."

Merlin scoffed. "Must you be so obstinate?"

Polnareff couldn't agree more. His stubbornness was getting annoying. He couldn't promise anything, but if Gael were to fall asleep again, that would be the final straw and he would be driving in his place whether that pig-headed dunce liked it or not. Well, whether he had a driver's license or not, but he wasn't going to mention that part. Whimpering sounds tore him from his attention to Gael's stubborn attitude and instead, brought his gaze in Eva's direction. Was she crying?

Judging by what he could tell in the dark, Eva had taken her hand away from her face and tried inspecting it for something. He tried to get a good look at it from where he was, studying it intently in the brief flashes of the street lights as they went by.

How do I ask her if she's okay? I don't have a pen or paper on me this time.

Putting the thought out of his head, he scooted next to her. Eva gasped, watching him gently take her hand and look over it. Thin, watery blood painted two of her fingers. Poor thing, when did she get hurt? She was reaching up to her face for something.

I need a light if I'm going to look at it.

Polnareff looked up and noticed the overhead lights on the ceiling. "That'll work." The light flicked on, putting a strain on his eyes. They seemed pretty sensitive to light ever since his resurrection, but complaining about it over and over wasn't going to make it any better. Besides, Gael had already gotten sick of hearing him keep on about it. That and his legs being an issue.

"Let me see." he whispered, mostly to himself. Geez, he really needed to make a mental note to learn American sign language. His hand softly glided against her chin, surprising her. Eva didn't know what to make of what he was trying to do, so she sat there anxiously, watching him.

Blood stained her bottom lip, but from what he could tell, it wasn't busted. Using his thumb, Polnareff tenderly touched her lip to try and get a better look inside her mouth. Oh, my god, why did this feel so damn weird? His heart skipped a few beats, creating an expanding warmth in his chest as he stared at her. Eva stared back, her purple eyes unblinking. God, she was beautiful. Her eyes were like polished amethysts sparkling in the light.

What the hell am I doing? I'm supposed to be checking her for injuries, not gawking at her like an idiot.

Eva trembled, appearing as if she was frozen in time the way she looked at him.

Polnareff shut his eyes and threw his palm over his face, wiping it down his cheek. Geez, Polnareff, snap out of it.

Pushing past his feelings as best he could, he tilted her chin up and looked inside her mouth. To his shock, her front tooth had been knocked loose against the door of the car. Blood oozed around her tooth and swollen gum. This happened because of him; if he hadn't shifted the car in park while it was moving, she wouldn't be in pain. Dammit! Not paying attention, he accidentally brushed his thumb over it too roughly, making her yelp. Eva threw her hand over her mouth, wincing.

"I'm so sorry!" he panicked. "Are you alright?"

Gael grimaced, looking in the rearview mirror. "What the hell are you two doing back there?"

Polnareff jolted. "Uhh, well, I was just checking to see if she's okay." He rubbed the back of his neck. He knew it was his fault; man, his guilt was really going to eat at him for this. There had to be something he could do, but he was afraid he'd cause her more pain – he'd done enough of that as it is.

Not entirely sure how to communicate with her, he tried something he hoped she would understand well enough. Polnareff pointed to his eye, then his front teeth. Eva's brow raised at him as she cocked her head.

What?

"Can I see it?" Polnareff spoke as he poorly attempted signing to her.

Eva shrugged and shook her head. Sorry, I don't understand .

Polnareff sighed and slouched down in the seat. "Aww, what's the use. She can't understand me. I was just going to tell her that I didn't think it was anything too serious. In a few days, her gum won't be so sore and her tooth will be fine."

Eva curled up next to the window, still holding her hand against her throbbing mouth. Looking over at her just made him feel worse. He wasn't trying to hurt anyone, in fact it was quite the opposite. He'd make it up to her soon. That was a guarantee.

Gael yawned, letting out a throaty roar to hurry and get it over with. He hated yawning back to back. "Fuck…you know what, fine. Everybody wins. How does staying at a hotel sound?"

"Amazing." Polnareff exasperated. It was about damn time.

Merlin looked up at Gael from the key. "Sounds wonderful."

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Eva still sat there with a hand placed over her mouth as she leaned against the window, watching the street lights go by. Every now and again, she'd glance over at Polnareff, who could've looked happier, but was too busy beating himself up.

She smiled, looking back out the window as a flush of heat tinted her cheeks a rose pink.

Thank you for checking on me.

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"Hotel…California…" Gael read, squinting at engraved words on a metal sign attached to a large, spiked iron fence. "...established in 1829…the hell kind of name is that for a hotel in bumfuck nowhere? We're not even in America!"

"There's no need to complain, Master Callaghan," Merlin told him, "it has beds. That's all that really matters."

Gael hummed, nodding his head in agreement. He couldn't argue with that.

The car bumped along the gravel road, taking them through a dark forest as they made their way to their destination. They'd stopped seeing streetlights awhile ago, as well as fewer cars. The atmosphere around them had shifted and Polnareff could feel it. Something about going down that road didn't seem quite right to him, but he'd wait and see where it brought them before passing judgment just yet. All around him, the woods were pitch black, only coming briefly into view in the headlights. Not to his knowledge, it was also a new moon that night.

Mist blanketed the road, which aggravated the piss out of Gael. "Goddamn fog…" he cursed.

A cold shiver came over Eva; the way she quivered and rubbed her arms was very telling. Polnareff remembered what he had thought about earlier, and how he planned to make things up to her. Well, there was no time better than the present. Picking up Gael's coat out of the floorboard, he wrapped it around her and smiled. Eva glanced at him, surprised; she wasn't expecting such a kind gesture. Their eyes met, once again sending Polnareff's heart into a frenzy of fluttering.

"Uhh…" his cheeks burned red. "...I thought you might need this."

Eva smiled. Thank you.

Polnareff returned a warm smile. Damn, her eyes were so captivating. Why couldn't he look away from them? Alright, asshole, you can stop staring now, he thought. Truth is, he didn't want to. He'd been so enthralled by her and the feelings she evoked in him that he hadn't even noticed the car stopped.

"Jean!" Gael's voice raised, snapping him out of it. "Clean out your ears, didn't you hear me?"

Polnareff realized his hands were still placed on her shoulders from where he draped the coat over her. Shit, how did he not notice that? "Oh, sorry." He withdrew them, leaning over towards his window, embarrassed.

"We're here." Gael repeated to him as he stepped out of the car and closed the door.

"Here where?" Polnareff said, half paying attention, half sitting there still feeling the after effects of the car moving. It kind of made him not want to get out. Eva gasping interrupted his thoughts – what the hell was so shocking? Just then, Gael called for him to get a load of something.

He didn't understand what was so shocking about seeing a hotel; he'd seen plenty of those both during his quest to Egypt and in his home country. Rolling his eyes, he opened his car door and stepped one leg out of the vehicle, laying one arm over the top of the car and pulling his weight up to stand. Polnareff's mouth parted and his eyes went wide.

Out there, in the dead of night, was a hotel towering high into the blackened sky. A castle made of stones and mortar. Heavy mist lingered around it as they all made their way towards the entrance, each of them in awe at what they were seeing.

"It's as if I've gone back in time to Normandy." Merlin remarked, his upper half poking from Coco Jumbo's key as Gael toted him along.

"If my dad could see this," Gael said, "he'd be shitting bricks."

The stone steps to the tall, mahogany double doors were wide with large, square slabs in the middle in place of a stair rail. Bronze planters sitting on them caught the eye of Merlin as Gael carried him by.

"If I had to guess, these designs are from the late Renaissance period."

An embossed cherub with a lolled head, arms embracing its body, and a flowing sash for its lower half, made Polnareff think about the gold statue he saw back at Asamkirche just yesterday. How the little angel holding the string for Death to cut expressed what he could only speculate was hopelessness. Hell, he didn't know the word to describe it. The pottery, the columns, and the slabs all had sculpted cherubs on them. Even the front doors had bronze, cherub knockers.

Gael yawned, this time not fighting it. Polnareff couldn't help but eye the place, taking in every detail; his immersion was broken by the booming sound of heavy metal against the door. Three times Gael swung the knocker on the door, and three times more when it didn't seem like anyone was coming.

"Is anyone even in there?" Polnareff questioned.

"I don't know." Gael answered, too tired to think about it.

They gave it a minute, thinking maybe someone would show up at the door, but as far as Polnareff could tell, nothing was stirring within. He let out an aggravated sigh and leaned against the slab with his arms crossed. "Guess no one's home."

Before Gael could say anything to him, a low, eerie creak startled the group. The front door opened slowly, revealing the cold, dark atmosphere in the castle foyer. The hearth offered its light to them, although it was several feet away. After hesitating for a moment, Gael stepped foot with Merlin into the castle. Following behind him was Eva and Polnareff, who stayed behind her as a means to protect her. Something about that place was sending the wrong signals, like hell he was going to let her go last.

Having made their way into the foyer, the large door slammed shut behind them. Polnareff snapped his head around, concerned by the fact that no one was even standing there to open and close it. Eerie. He may not have approved of the dread weighing in his stomach, but he especially didn't like that. His eyes scanned around, unable to shake a dreadful presence from his being, when from out of the pitch black strode a figure – a man.

Walking with his hawk nose high, Kilmister approached them, slowly coming into light from down one of the corridors. Merlin sank back into Mr. President, vanishing completely from sight. Watching Kilmister walk with poise out of the shadows, Eva gripped Gael's coat tightly, taking a small step back. The butler stopped, one half of him illuminated by hearthfire and the other in darkness.

Polnareff and Gael just stared at him, waiting for him to say or do something. There was a pause, then Kilmister spoke in the most elegant, yet ominous, manner .

"Welcome to Hotel California."

"Yeah, hi," Gael said curtly, not in the mood for introductions, "you got any rooms available?"

Kilmister's facial expression remained empty. "But of course."

"Whew! Alright." Gael reached into his pockets and pulled out a wad of German bills Merlin had given him. "How much for a night?" he said, waving the money forward.

Kilmister eyed the money blankly, then stepped away. "Follow me, please."

Gael shot him an incredulous look and scratched his head. "Aul bat doesn't accept money? Hmm. Whatever."

Kilmister led them up the grand staircase with a candelabra in hand, taking his dear time showing them to their rooms. A cat's meow brought Polnareff's attention behind him. Weaving between his legs was a white Persian with a collar that jingled every time it walked.

Polnareff clasped his hands together, his eyes welling up with awe. "Quel chat mignon! Here kitty kitty." He squatted down reaching out to pet it, when he was met with cold, dilated blue eyes peering straight into his soul. The cat growled, tucking its ears back at him. Didn't look like he was going to be petting much of anything. Polnareff withdrew his hand, worried that he'd done something to irk it. Its white hairs raised as the Persian hissed and backed away from him. Polnareff climbed to his feet, watching the cat pitter-patter away, its bell jingling as it went.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, too…" he said sarcastically.

Gael called to him from up the hall. "Jean, quit draggin' your feet and get up here!"

Polnareff exasperated. "Relax, I'm right behind you, geez."

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A mahogany door creaked open to a room with wine colored tapestries and a carpet to match. The furniture, much like Kilmister's chair by the hearth, came from the baroque era made from the woods and fabrics familiar to that time. Giltwood, mahogany, velvet, and silk. Candle sconces dimly lit the room as Kilmister opened the door the rest of the way and led Eva inside. He stood there with his candelabra, without a hint of expression present on his thin, weathered face.

"I hope you will find your chambers most accommodating, m'lady."

Eva's eyes wandered around the room. Merlin had furniture similar to the kind in the castle, but nothing quite as refined as what Kilmister had. Merlin's had wear-and-tear where his were seemingly well-kept and hardly used. She pictured Merlin signing to her, telling her how he'd like to barter with him and see what he could bring home. Always an eye for the finer things, she thought, yet through it all Merlin was humble.

"Also, I must reiterate that there is a strict curfew." Kilmister informed. "All guests are to be in their rooms each night before eight o'clock."

Eva coincidentally looked in his direction as he talked, noting his lips were moving, but what was he saying? Curious to know, she signed to him. Sorry, I'm deaf. Do you sign?

Kilmister just stared at her, unimpressed by her gestures. "What ever are you doing?"

This guy was starting to creep her out with his blank expression and lack of personality. She couldn't read him. Was he friendly, or rude? Was he caring, or closed-off? Normally Eva could draw her own conclusions about people based on their actions, and especially how they treated her and everyone around them. This guy, though, was making that difficult. Eva cocked her head, uncertain if she should sign to him again, because he wasn't giving her an answer in a way that she could understand. A simple confused reaction would have sufficed, but Kilmister's countenance showed no indication of whether he was or wasn't.

"If you are done flailing your hands about, then I must assume we are finished here. I bid you goodnight." Kilmister exited the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

There was a slight shift in the air, taking a hint of the stress off of Eva's shoulders. She hated communicating with people, she always did. Very few knew how to properly sign to her. Sitting on her bed, she thought about that as she clung to Gael's coat around her shoulders. Funny how her thoughts about miscommunication made her think about Polnareff. He at least tried, albeit very badly. Eva smiled. What was it about him that made her feel so vulnerable? She recounted their first meeting, and then his post-resurrection and how she was so anxious to be near him. Usually, she was incredibly anxious to be around anyone she didn't know, though she did her best not to show it sometimes if it could be helped.

But now things were changing. Ever since they first spoke to each other, it was like she had this sudden intuition telling her she could trust him; he wasn't a bad person at all. His actions convinced her that he wasn't, and then she got to thinking about why that was. He saved her life, not just once, but twice. The second time being the most admirable act of gallantry she'd ever seen. Eva flopped back on the mattress, letting out a sigh as she stared up at the stone ceiling.

Why do I feel this way?

All she could think about was him. His face, his funny attempts at talking to her, and his touch – oh, he was so gentle. It was obvious that he cared about her. With every thought of him that popped into her head, a warmth grew inside of her. This feeling was new, almost scary. Eva had lived in solitude with Merlin all her life, never getting the chance to get out and explore new things, or meet people she would undoubtedly like. Infatuation was a whole new experience for her; if only she knew how turbulent sewing the seeds of love could be. Love. Could that be what this feeling was?

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The room was dark. Just as soon as they'd gotten to their rooms, Gael fell face-first onto his bed and within a few seconds, was snoring like a grizzly bear. Polnareff let Merlin have the one opposite of him, leaving him to sleep on a bench by the wall. Semargl, the wolf, emerged from Mr. President and found his place by Merlin's feet, lying on his side with his legs stretched out. It must've been nice to find sleep so quickly, Polnareff thought as he lied on the bench, looking up at the ceiling. Merlin went around and around with him a while ago, insisting that he was just fine sleeping in the key, while Polnareff argued that he'd be comfortable enough sleeping on the bench. Yeah, about that…that shit was very uncomfortable. Just his luck.

Still he was beating himself up for hurting Eva's tooth. God, he was so inconsiderate, how could he act without thinking? He was sure he'd matured enough to make better decisions by now, he was forty-one...or was he still thirty-six? Old habits die hard, he supposed. The mere thought of inflicting any kind of pain on someone as sweet as her was inexcusable. She was much too beautiful. Had she lost her front tooth, he'd never be able to forgive himself. Polnareff would rather it be him. And he was taking steps to making it up to her, slow steps, but the want-to was there. But was it enough? Putting a jacket around her because she was cold didn't feel like an adequate apology.

There was only one thing to do next: tell her. And if telling her in his own way didn't work, then he'd show her that he was sorry. That's it! He'd go to her room and talk to her…well, somehow. He tip-toed across the room, hoping not to wake anyone up. God knew they needed their sleep. Sleep was all Polnareff had been getting lately, so he was fine. His palms were sweaty as he stepped across the dark hall and stopped in front of Eva's door.

"Okay." he blew out a breath and rehearsed a scenario to himself out loud. "Hi. I was passing by and thought I'd…uhh…wait. No, that wouldn't work. She can't hear me. Damn! Alright, it's okay. I'll just sign to her."

Polnareff cleared his throat and wiggled his fingers in and out of his palms, loosening them up. "Okay. How about we try this instead…"

"Hi!"

Hand wave.

"I was just passing by…"

Two fingers running across his wrist.

"...and I thought I would let you know…"

Pointing to his head three times.

…I'm very sorry for your pain!"

Hands clasped together followed by a slight bow.

There was a long pause, then he sighed harshly and began bumping his forehead against the door. "That shit isn't going to work, god I'd look stupid as hell to her! Come on, Polnareff, surely you haven't lost your charm after all these years. Granted, I've never had to talk to a girl like this before, but still! What if she's mad at me for hurting her tooth earlier? Or worse. What if she hates me?" Polnareff gave a lamented sigh as he slumped forward in dismay. "I have to apologize. Even if she thinks I'm the world's biggest dumbass, I'm going through with this. Yeah! I can do this!"

Grabbing ahold of the doorknob, he hesitated, flattening his lips together. He inhaled through his nose and looked at the door with fierce tenacity. "Here goes. No turning back." He twisted the doorknob and burst into the room.

"I am sorry!" he shouted, splaying his fingers across his chest.

In that instant, the door smacked right into Eva, who was hanging Gael's coat on a coat rack. Wait, what did he hit? Taking his eyes away from the other end of the room, he turned his gaze to find that he'd in fact hit Eva. She was wincing, placing her dainty hand over the small of her back. A shock ran through him.

Dammit, not again!