That night, Nick sat on the sofa in his hotel room, watching TV. Well, he was at least sitting in front of the TV while it was on with his face aiming towards it, but he couldn't have told you what was on it (which would explain how it was playing a rerun of the Teletubbies... at least he has an excuse, unlike Howie who was in the next room over watching the same thing).
Brian had thought he was nuts, and that'd never happened before (at least not that Nick new about -- more often than not Brian thought he was nuts, he just kept his mouth shut about it to his face). Maybe it all HAD been just something he'd imagined -- like that time when he dreamed he hooked up with Princess Leia in Jabba the Hut's secret lair. It had seemed SO real at the time, that he'd actually believed it was true. At least until he remembered that the girl that played Princess Leia was like 60-something years old now and that there was no such thing as gigantic alien slugs sliming around LA -- only gigantic roaches, and even those weren't alien in nature... just gross. But this seemed all too real. Fat Freddy's breath even stunk in his memory, and the thought of The Goose's face still brought goosebumps up his arms.
He shifted restlessly, wondering who Jack Taylor was, and where he was, and how he had been mistaken for the guy. Did Jack Taylor look like him? And if he did, where was Jack now? Getting mobbed by BSB fans? Why didn't Jack show up at Fat Freddy's newsstand, as was obviously planned? What would happen if Jack did show up? What would Fat Freddy and The Goose and whoever else they were in with do to him (and Jack) if they found out he wasn't Jack Taylor? Would he swim with the fishes like The Goose had threatened? How the hell did a Gopher fly from a coop if they don't have wings? And why were all these mobster guys so excited about a Disney movie being released?
Nick thought of all the spy and mob movies he'd seen and wondered how he'd get out of the situation (if it wasn't imagined, of course) without the fella's help. All the good spies in the movies had a side kick. Clark Kent had Jimmy Olsen (and eventually joined that weird super hero league thing), Batman had Robin, Spiderman had M.J., hell - even Jason Bourne had that weird Maria chick on his side.
Nick shook his head. He was now comparing himself to a crappy Matt Damon movie. 'I must be crazy,' he decided, 'I didn't really talk to Fat Freddy OR The Goose. I'm hallucinating. All the bird shit fumes went straight to my head. Clearly, or else someone would believe me... at least just a little bit, wouldn't they?'
Suddenly there was a heavy knock on the door, which caused Nick to jump, and his state of thought shattered and his mind spiraled back down to earth. He became acutely aware of the Teletubbies on TV set whining about Tubbie Toast and quickly muted it. He stared at the door. Under the crack of the jam he could see the shadow of two feet. "Brian?" he called out cautiously in the general direction of the door. "Kev? Brian??" He got up slowly. "AJ, c'mon dude, it's late. Howie??" He inched towards the door, and was just about there when the shadow moved, and a perfectly square black envelope slid under the jam. The shadow disappeared. Nick stared at the envelope from a distance, half expecting it to promptly explode.
After a moment without an explosion, he carefully knelt down beside it, lowering his head to hear if it was ticking like a bomb. It wasn't. He tapped it to see if any weird powdery stuff was inside. It was flat, as though it were empty. Gently, he lifted it, then very cautiously opened it. Inside was a single sheet of perfectly square, cream colored paper. He pulled it out and looked at it.
Written with a calligraphy pen in fancy gothic-looking lettering was the following note:
"CHECKING INTO THE PLAZA HOTEL UNDER A
BACKSTREET BOY'S NAME. VERY CREATIVE, JACK.
THE BOSS CORDIALLY INVITES YOU TO THE DOCKS
TOMORROW NIGHT. THE GOPHER'S BEEN FOUND.
WE'LL HAVE A LITTLE FUN. --- THE GOOSE."
Nick's eyes buldged. He chucked the page across the room the way one might throw a venomous snake, and ran into the hallway. No one was out there. He paniced. Quickly, he rushed to Brian's door and banged noisily on it with both fists. "BRIAAAAAAAAN!" he cried, pounding, "BRIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAN!!!! OPEN UP!!!! Quick!!!!"
It took a few minutes of this, but finally the door opened and Leighanne stood there in a canary yellow bathrobe, clutching the chest closed, and stared at Nick. She had a Biore pore strip stuck to her nose, and a full set of curlers in her hair. "Nick," she sounded groggy, "What on earth is the matter?"
"Where's Brian???" Nick asked, breathless from all his yelling, "I need Brian."
Leighanne looked puzzled, "He's in bed, NIck, as should you be. It's like 3 AM. Go to bed, sweetie."
Nick looked at her pleadingly, "No please! I need to talk to 'Rok. Like right now." He was near hysterics, that was clear. "PLEASE."
"OK, OK," she relented, backing up into the room and lowering her voice, "But Baylee's asleep, and I don't want to wake him, so be quiet, and Bri'll be right out. Ya'll can take the conversation to your hotel room." She quietly closed the door as she disappeared into the room.
Nick paced in front of the door in the hallway, wringing his hands nervously. It seemed to take forever for Brian to come out, but really it was only a couple of minutes.
Brian's hair was disheveled when he emerged, his eyes squinty and filled with that weird sleepy dust. He had on a pair of blue plaid pajama pants, but that was it. "What?" his voice was low from sleep.
"Brian. They're gonna kill me," he gasped out.
Brian rolled his eyes, "Nick. Not this again." Turning back toward his hotel room door, he said, "Nick. GO. TO. BED."
"NO! Brian! C'mon! I'm telling the TRUTH. It's REAL. I know it is! I need you to be my side kick, like Jason Bourne!"
Brian rolled his eyes. "Then take his suggestion.... 'You look tired, you should get some sleep.'"
"Brian..."
"Nick, tomorrow you'll get up and realize how utterly ridiculous you're being right now."
"Brian, I am NOT being rdiculous, please!!! Just look what The Goose left me. They're gonna kill me, dude! They want me at the docks -- tomorrow night!!!"
"Nick --"
"No, Bri, please!"
With a sigh, Brian followed Nick into his hotel room. Nick snatched the note from the floor and handed it to Brian, who glanced it over, reading it. Nick hovered around his shoulders until he'd finished the note. He looked up at his friend. "Can I go to bed now?"
"What?" Nick took the note back and looked at it, "Don't you see what this MEANS, dude?"
Brian nodded, "It means AJ's fucking with your head."
Nick shook his head, "I didn't tell AJ."
"I told all three of them yesterday at the shoot. He's just trying to rile you up. Don't let him get to you. I'll talk to him tomorrow morning about antagonizing you before we got to the signing, OK? Now will you please go ot sleep? We've got a lot of autographs to sign tomorrow and those fans are expecting you to be at 100% and nothing less so you need to be awake."
Nick nodded slowly. "OK, ok. I guess you're right. Thanks."
"I'm always right," Brian answered. "Now goodnight."
"Goodnight, Bri."
Nick watched as Brian stepped into the hallway and closed the hotel room door behind him. He looked down at the note, trying to place what AJ's hand writing looked like and if this even remotely looked like it. He couldn't remember what his writing looked like, though, so eventually he gave up and dropped the note onto the night stand by the bed. Climbing into the bed, he glanced at the clock -- 3:18 AM. He only had about 5 hours of sleep coming. He cozied down between the sheets.
"I must be going nuts," he muttered, turning off the lamp and closing his eyes.
Suddenly the phone rang.
Nick sat bolt upright in bed, reached over and turned on the lamp before grabbing the phone off the cradle, assuming it'd be Brian. "Hello?"
"Listen kid, it's The Goose." Nick felt his skin go cold and palms get clammy and his heart begin to slam loudly in his chest. "Whatever your little sidekick might say --- This ain't no joke. Follow the directions on the back of my little invitation and be at the docks tomorrow at midnight or the boss'll be very, very, VERY remorseful."
The line went dead and Nick dropped the phone with a clatter.
"BRIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Saving the Day for Blondes (AKA How Nick Carter Became Involved in a Terrorist Mob, Quite By Accident Really!, And Thereby Managed To Save The World For The First Time Ever, Much To Kevin's Surprise.) by Pengi
