fandomtownies | The Arms Hotel, Saturday

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The Arms Hotel, Saturday

This morning, Nikolai rolled out of bed already naked and went and took a long, hot, steamy shower. He spent some time at the gym, the same way he did every morning, working out for a good hour before going and taking (of course) another shower. Equally long. Equally steamy. The only time his haunted chestnut eyes were ever uncovered by his bad-boy mirrored shades was, of course, while he was taking those showers. It wouldn't do to be seen without them, after all. They were part of the image.

Plus that whole tragic backstory thing involving the bad blood transfusion back in Greece. But mostly the image.

And then, because tragic and beautiful heroes apparently only had to work one day a week in order to get by around here, he made his way to the front desk of the hotel where, no doubt, he would end up spending his day talking to all manner of guests, most of them gorgeous, all of them with tragic backstories of their own. That was generally the way things were in this neck of the woods, after all.

And on top of that, he was going to spend some time working on his other job as a highly successful Hollywood agent, making phone calls to high profile actors and actresses back in Los Angeles, arranging new roles and contracts and even the occasional ill-advised party. It would no doubt be full of terrible life choices and no small shortage of drama, which he would inevitably end up having to clean up after when all was said and done.

Welcome to the Arms Hotel!
Today's Specials:
Beef Bourguignon ~~Probably Without Arsenic~~
Foie Gras ~~Definitely Without Arsenic. May Cause Amnesia.~~
Creme Brulee ~~With Sleeping Powder~~
Frozen Bean and Cheese Burritos, Microwaved

Yeah, nothing had actually changed for Nikolai this weekend. He'd taken one look at Gunther's menu today, shaken his head, and added the last item himself because he wanted to be able to eat without waking up in Bosnia or tied to a train track or something.

The Arms Hotel is open!

[OOC: No, really! Open!]

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Gunther probably hasn't slipped anything lethal or at least terribly scandalous into your meal.

May we recommend the burritos? Only slightly exploded.

He calls days like this 'Saturday.'

"Do me a favor," Bruce said, walking over from the elevator. He was on his way to the Wayne Foundation. "If any of my exes come looking for me, tell them I'm in the Bahamas. That should keep them from bugging me for more alimony for a while."

He even dropped a couple hundred dollars on the desk to help Nikolai remember that it was a good idea to be helpful.

"Bahamas. Got it, Mr. Wayne." Look, Nikolai wasn't going to question the crazy. He was going to just make a note to put the money into an envelope marked 'Wayne' in the front desk drawer, in case Bruce here happened to change his mind once sanity kicked in again. "Expecting a few of those, are you?"

"When you've been married as many times as I have, you always expect it," Bruce said. "Especially when you have other plans."

Did that sound sinister? Oops.

On second thought, maybe Nick would skim a bit of money off the top anyway. He wasn't paid nearly enough to work the Fandom Island weekend shift, damn it.

"More weddings, huh?"

He did not think Bruce was referring to more weddings.

"Not at the moment, but you never know where the day will take you. And it's amazing how fast you can find a justice of the peace when you need one," Bruce noted.

"Trust me, Mr. Wayne, you're talking to a man who has had to deal with the fallout of so many high-profile people sharing that mindset, I could probably give you a list with names and numbers off the top of my head."

Because Hollywood.

"Is it just the exes I should be shipping off to the Bahamas, or should I be taking messages besides?"

Because you never knew when there might be a 'besides.'

"If anyone's looking to do business, send them to the Wayne Foundation. They'll find me there," Bruce said.a

"Business," Nick echoed, though with pointedly fewer italics. "Yeah, I can do that. Any of that changes throughout the day, you know where to find me."

It's not like he had anything better to do today than sit back and watch the crazy unfold.

Maybe he'd buy a camera on his lunch break. Something that could take plenty of video.

Sometime after Pam's discussion with her ex-husband, Bruce, she was going to decide to drop in and visit Nikolai. Either because it went badly and she needed to cheer herself up, or because it went well and she was celebrating; the writers for this part hadn't seen the finished script yet, and were keeping it vague.

Either way, her eyes lit up when she saw those beautiful sunglasses from across the lobby.

"Hello, lover," she cooed.

"Hello, what?"

Being anybody's lover was kind of news to Nikolai, who was giving the sudden and unexpected (albeit gorgeous) woman across the lobby a bit of a confused looking at through those beautiful sunglasses of his.

"You're talking to me, babe?"

It should be made clear, here, that Nick wasn't going to argue if she was.

"Oh, you," Pam laughed. Nikolai was wonderful. He never made her feel insecure about how hugely fat she was, not even the day she'd been so bloated she'd had to wear a size six. The memory alone made her shudder.

"You're so funny," she said, even though nothing Nikolai had said was even remotely a joke. "It's one of your best traits. That and your taste in women."

Yeah, Nikolai's taste in women was generally summed up neatly as 'gorgeous and breathing,' and even the breathing thing was negotiable, if she happened to be a vampire or something, apparently.

Thanks for the sudden and unexpected bent toward necrophilia, there, Island. Fuck.

"Yeah, well, I'm nothing if not discerning in my tastes," he replied, somewhere between flattered and totally willing to just roll with it. "And who did you say you were, again?"

Clearly this was more of that sense of humor of his.

Pam sighed. She knew Nikolai liked to pretend he had lots of other women. He made sure to be spotted out at dinner with other women, on fake dates, and he slept over in their rooms so radio would make it sound like there was sex going on. He'd even sat her down three or four times and had a completely straight-faced conversation with her about how she did understand that they weren't exclusive, right? Because she seemed not to be getting that?

It was his marvelous sense of humor.

"How about your soulmate?" she said happily. "How about your reason for living? The beautiful, charming, not fat woman that you couldn't possibly live without?"

Just try it, Nik. Just try it.

"Oooh, right. Her." Yeah, still not ringing any bells, Pam. "Does she come with a name? You know, so I can... savor the way it rolls off of my tongue in the... throes of passion or whatever?"

Look, she was clearly batshit fucking insane, but she was also warm-blooded and interested. He at least wanted to know who she was. For later or something.

"You know I love the way you say Pam-e-la," she grinned, twining her arms around his neck and leaning up for a kiss. "You wouldn't keep having this problem if you just went and got the tattoo already."

They'd agreed to matching tattoos! Now he was pretending that he'd thought she was kidding. He had been so surprised when she revealed hers. Maybe he thought she'd chicken out?

Ooookay, crazy lady was actually pretty touchy-feely, too. Nick really shouldn't have been surprised, all things considered. And, shit, it was a good kiss, if unexpected.

Huh.

"Yeah." Little creepy, there, Pam. "Yeah, okay, I think I remember you, babe." She had been a little less 'Hollywood Fat' and a little more just straight up curvy then, though. "You know how I am about permanently scarring people's names into my flesh using ink and needles, babe. If I'm gonna do that, I want to at least use this guy I know back home. Same guy that did Angelina's tattoo. The tiger one."

No, he had no intention of getting a tattoo.

"I'll come, too," Pam decided. "I can get another tattoo. Maybe I'll get five or six. So I can have your name all over me, every single moment."

She raised an eyebrow. "Soooo ... do you get a break any time soon?"

Nick was now torn between saying 'yes,' and wondering if calling the cops today was just going to invite more crazy in.

It really didn't help that Pam hadn't been much saner that one time they did screw. Where was the crazy line drawn with this one?

"Actually, babe, you just missed it." Nikolai was so not getting a break today. "Shame, huh?"

Hahahaha. Nick thought there were lines.

"That's terrible," Pam said, flouncing over to the big plump armchair in the lobby. "They should give you more breaks, because you're so amazing."

She sighed contentedly. "Can I just sit here and watch you work?" she asked. "Or is that gonna be too distracting?"

She could find something else to do. Break into his house, boil his bunnies, the usual.

"Nah, watching's fine. I was just going to be making phone calls all day anyhow."

It occurred to Nikolai a moment after that statement left his mouth that saying she could watch meant that she would probably be here when his shift ended.

There would be no escape.

Well, fuck, then.

It's possible the reason I'm so bad at these weekends is that my characters are already pretty damn ridiculous in the first place.

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The Arms Hotel, Saturday

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