noteasytobepink | Wheelsy AU ~ Hollywood Nights

She had a feeling he was more hurt than she'd tell him, but she wasn't going to change her mind. Her offer of hospitality still stood but she could understand needing some space when hurting.

"I know a nice place, nearby even." No roach motels for Bill. "Even has a pool if you think swimmin or a hot tub might be nice." She stood and nodded to the door.

He was careful to avoid her gaze when he stood up, and held the door for her as they left the restaurant.

"Don't need nothin' fancy, but a pool sounds nice."

He could do this. He might be limping along, but he could play it off until she was gone; gloss over what just happened with a normal conversation.

"Just lemme know what time you'll be around tomorrow, an' I'll make sure to be ready."

"Unless you want me sooner Bill I'll be by at seven to fetch you." And she'd come if he asked, or wanted to talk more, though she hoped not. She was pretty sure more talking before the premier just wasn't going to go well.

She unlocked doors, got them moving, and got him to a nice place called 'Sunset Inn' within a few miles. It even had a nice restaurant attached in case he got hungry again, or wanted more than store donuts for breakfast.

And luck held, they even had room!

"Alright, I'll be sure an' comb my hair."

He flashed a quick smile, then kept his head turned towards the window the rest of the way, watching the city go by.

He didn't plan on calling. If she wanted to spend the day with him she would have said so. He'd go to the premier with her, and by seven o'clock he'd have time to sleep off and get over whatever hangover tonight was going to leave him with.

The hotel was nice, and when he found out they had a room he pulled out his wallet.

"You were right, Starla, it is a nice place."

"An look," she pointed. "You get cookies when you check in. I'm guessing you want the gooey chocolate instead of the oatmeal raisin?" She had wanted to spend time with him. To talk, to gossip even. See pictures of his mystery woman and speculate...

...but that wouldn't go over well now would it?

Maybe the day after the premier then.

"An I bet they even have decent sheets."

"Of course I want the chocolate."

He signed the paperwork and left his card info, and took the key card the lady at the desk handed him.

"As long as the bed has pillows on it I'm good."

With him all checked in that didn't leave much except for to say goodbye. Or goodnight, at least.

Turning to her, he adjusted the duffel bag on his shoulder.

"You got far t'get home?"

"I figured." She pointed out the oozing, warm cookies helpfully and the hotel manager chuckled and scooped them into a bag for Bill to take up to his room.

"Not far Bill, a mile or five at best. You have my number right? In case you need anything?"

"Yeah. An' I'm... " Glancing at his paperwork, Bill checked where they'd put him. "Room 235. Just in case."

He didn't wince, but it was a near thing as he realized how dumb he just sounded.

Tightening his grip a bit on the paper bag in his hand, he nodded towards the elevator.

"I guess I better let y'go. You... y'have a goodnight, Starla."

She pulled out her phone and made a note to herself about his room number...so she'd be able to find it if she had to drag him away from the mirror tomorrow. "You too Bill. You rest and unwind a bit, and tomorrow's gotta be better right?" That said she turned to head for the exit.

"Right."

He watched her go, then headed back to the front desk.

"Is there a gas station or grocery store 'round here?"

After getting directions he dropped his things off in his room, and headed down the street; returning a bit later with a paper bag held against his chest.

Upstairs he closed the door, and set about drowning his sorrow.

Well, this was a perfect time for his phone to ring again right? Absolutely.

Worried? Clarice? Perish the thought.

She maaaaaaay have gotten a call from a sky watcher who apparently liked to call in on the hour that the skies were clear. She wasn't exactly sure why she shouldn't ask them to stop calling, so, she rang Bill!

The whiskey burned going down, but the cool Pabst he'd bought to chase it with cooled it.

He sighed in irritation when his phone went off, and almost let it ring.

If there was trouble at the station, though, he couldn't let it go.

Leaning against the headboard and propped up by pillows on the bed, Bill set the bottle of whiskey on the night stand, and held his beer in one hand as he answer.

"Hello?"

"Well, you sound like hell." This was better than hello right? "So, do we actually employ Mr. Davis to watch the sky all night or is this a free public service he keeps us appraised of?"

"M'tired."

Scrubbing at his face, he let out another sigh.

"He'll keep callin' until he falls asleep. Just tell 'im thanks for the report, an' it's been noted. He freaks out if you hang up or tell him t'stop callin'."

Wheelsy was full of eccentrics, especially after the slugs. Bill pretty much knew how to handle them all.

"Well, you did fly three hours into the past. That will take it out of you," she offered softly.

"Is he suppose to be calling in on the 911 line though?"

"Yeah. Been a long day."

Lowering the phone a moment, he took a drink then brought the cell back up again.

"He must've forgot the damn number again. When he calls back tell him he's on th'wrong channel, an' needs to report to the proper station, then give him th'number to the front desk."

Mr. Davis was a veteran, so he knew protocol, but he was also an old man, so there were times when he'd lose or forget the number Bill gave him to keep him off the emergency line.

"I'll do that then. He's due to call back in about forty, and I was nice when he last called so no worries there." See? She could play by the rules! "I wanted to make sure he didn't have a special dispensation to dial in on the emergency line to report." That said there was the sound of a pencil scratching out notes on what to say.

"Anything I can do to help Bill? If I'm not mistaken I just heard a beer can, and you're not happy enough to be drinking because it's fun."

"That's good. I appreciate you handlin' it."

She was turning out to be pretty good at the job.

"Maybe it's a soda," he replied, flicking the tab on the can. "I could be drinkin' 'cause I'm tired."

"You're welcome. I don't mind being the friendly dispatcher voice in the night." She chuckled softly.

"Could be." Easy enough to admit that. "But if you were that tired you wouldn't be drinking soda as it keeps you awake and you've no reason for that. And if you were drinking beer to make you sleepy, well, you'd be asleep by now."

"I just got started," he replied.

Which was true, he still had the rest of a six-pack and part of a bottle of whiskey to go.

"I'm already in my room, so you don't gotta be worried about me drivin' or walkin' alone anywhere."

"Just got started with what goal in mind?" She asked. Simple question right? And of course she was suspicious! She'd already witnessed his tendency to drain a whiskey bottle when the harder aspects of unrequited love were in play!

"Hey, snap me a picture on your phone? Send it to the precinct site?" That way she had a destination if she had to pop in. "Bet it's a posh, Hollywood kinda place right?"

"I ain't got a goal," he snorted. "T'go until I come up empty, I guess."

Glancing around the room, he shrugged.

"It ain't bad. S'got a pool."

Pulling the phone from his ear, he fiddled with it.

"How do I do that, s'this little button the side, right?"

Damn cellphones.

"Yep, should be, that's the shortcut button we set up anyway." Cause she was apparently better at reading instruction booklets than he was?

"And hey, pool! I'm jealous! Why don't you have a pool for me to laze at Bill?"

"'Cause I don't need a pool, an' they're expensive."

He snapped a photo of his shoe and sighed.

"Dammit. They're also a pain to keep clean, an' attract critters, like deer an' raccoons."

Bill had handled such calls on the job, he didn't need the hassle when off it.

Trying again, Bill managed to take a picture of the room, including the small living space, the door to the bathroom, and the TV. The phone popped up with an address book, and Bill was able to find the station out of the listed contacts.

"Got it. See, ain't much, but it's alright."

"But Bill...pooooool. I could wear a swimsuit, and that young deputy would choke on his own spit, and just think, a nice swim after a long day of work..." Ah, pools. Not that she ever really had them growing up but!

"Yep, I see. It's nice. Hotelish, but nice. Where is the Hollywood glamour and glitz? You alone there?"

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