noteasytobepink | Wheelsy AU ~ Hollywood Nights

"Maybe yours didn't Bill." She'd give him that much. "And i"m happy you still got somethin don't get me wrong." She didn't feel like she did though. It was just the way it was.

Ah, her therapist had mentioned this possibility. Just like she'd wanted to jump Bill's bones for the first few weeks after the whole ordeal, fear and adrenaline made people need to feel alive, and that was fine. It had faded though and she was glad she hadn't made a fool of herself. That didn't fade easy with some though, especially folks that got to be the hero.

And he'd always been protective.

"I"m not seein' that workin' Bill." She did say it gently?

"Why not?"

It was a question, honestly asked. He wasn't defensive, not yet.

If it was the distance they could work on that; he could convince her to come home or... maybe he could try the L.A. thing.

If it was anything else, he needed to know why. Needed the chance to change her mind.

"Well, there's the 'I'm not goin back to Wheelsy' thing for starters." She pointed out, holding up a finger. "But the main reason bein I'm not goin to do the romantic relationship with someone I'm not that attracted to thing again." After all, look where that had got her.

"You're my friend, maybe my best friend, but I just don't see you as someone I want in my bed." She even managed to say that without blushing! It was just...truth. "For awhile we were the last people alive, almost on earth as far as I felt, and that almost, almost worked for me Bill, but that didn't last."

Her words were a kick in the gut and the stones, and it left him reeling without any response. He dropped his head and sat there feeling her sharp blade carve the heart out of his chest.

All this time, all those years of carrying a torch for her, and it all came down to her just not finding him attractive enough?

He felt robbed, cheated, like it was all just a twisted joke and they'd finally arrived at the punchline.

"So that's it, none of the rest of it matters, then?"

"None of the rest of what Bill?" She asked, suddenly tired. "Am I suppose to say I'll try? Marry you like a good girl because once upon a time my best friend saved my life? What do you want me to factor in Bill?"

This was worse than he ever imagined it would be. She was cutting him to ribbons.

"I-- "

He looked up and met her gaze, eyes full of hurt.

I love you.

I've always loved you.

He couldn't say the words, knowing how pathetic they would sound now.

She didn't want him. That was the truth of it, the end of the story.

"Nothin'. I guess I was just... tryin' t'get you to stay."

With no pride left to salvage, he just shook his head and waited for them to go.

It would have been easier to buy if he'd told her.

If he'd EVER told her.

Even once when they were young and before so much tragedy came about in their lives.

"That ain't happenin' either Bill." Starla sighed softly and accepted the receipt so she could calculate a tip and sign off on it. "Not now. So, guest bedroom or hotel?"

He almost went with the guest bedroom, just because he still had the weekend here, and didn't want the rest of it to be this awful.

Right now, though, he needed space. Space and privacy, and to get his hands on a big bottle of something strong so he could drown himself with it.

"Actually, I'm pretty tired. Don't think I'll be much company tonight. Hotel might be best, I don't wanna be puttin' you out."

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."

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