Nick was laying on his stomach on his bed in the hotel room while AJ sat against his bed's headboard, watching a rerun of the Golden Girls on TV. Nick was clicking around the web, disgruntled. "Why do you think she didn't send the videos?" he asked, for what was probably the fiftieth time in the past hour. It was really bugging him. Paris had promised to send the videos that night, but she hadn't, and Nick was unable to think of any plausible reason why she wouldn't. He had hummed and mused and read random facts, trying to forget about Paris's email, but it hadn't worked. He wasn't able to forget. So he'd settled for asking AJ the same question every fifteen to twenty seconds.
"I don't know," AJ answered, then he snickered, "Maybe she popped too many pain killers."
Nick laughed, "Maybe." He sighed, clicking on his inbox icon again, just to make sure. Still nothing. "She said she'd send it tonight, though.. I don't understand her.."
"Have you ever?" AJ asked with a yawn.
"Nope..." Nick answered. On the screen, he clicked over to LiveDaily to see what the fans were up to, if anything. There were a bunch of pointless quizzes and polls and unrelated news stories cluttering the main screen.
On the TV, one of the old ladies said something that made AJ crack up. He clapped his hands, "Aw shit I love this show... Blanche is so me, if I were old."
"And if you were a woman," Nick added.
AJ laughed, "You'd be Rose."
"Is that the real old one that looks like a raisin?" Nick asked.
"No," AJ laughed, "That's Sophia. Rose is the dumb one."
Nick paused. "I thought Blanche was the dumb one?"
AJ shook his head, "No, Blanche is the slutty one."
"Ooohhh," Nick mused, "Got'cha." He paused as the conversation sunk in. "Hey! I'm not dumb I'm just --"
"Blonde?" AJ interjected.
Nick whined, but didn't bother arguing back. Mainly because he was distracted by a sudden, considerable amount of commotion going on outside. "What the crap is all that?" Nick asked, getting up off the bed and pushing his computer to the side. He hurried to the window and shoved the curtains open. "Oh my God, dude, come look."
AJ arrived at Nick's side. "Holy shit."
Down on the street, there were three British fire engines, two ambulance and a couple of squad cars, all with their lights flashing. A crowd was pouring out onto the street from the depths of the building whose basement was the Polari night club. Firemen were holding big hoses and spraying the flaming building, smoke as black as AJ's nail polish was filling the London streets. Nick's eyes were wide: he'd been in there just two hours, tops, before. Nick stared down as the flames were climbing the building, the heat so intense it made the building look wavy and blurry. The firemen worked desperately, spraying in from eververy angle they could.
AJ looked at Nick. "We should tell Bryant."
"Yeah, we should," Nick nodded.
The two of them hurried into the hallway to Bryant's door, where Nick began banging on the door, and they both started yelling, "AGENT BRYANT!! AGENT BRYANT!!" loud enough to wake the dead, filled with panic that they weren't quite sure why they were feeling it. Maybe it was foreboding. Or maybe it had something to do with the fourteen chili dogs they'd raced to inhale after room service had delivered them so nicely.
"He's not there," AJ said after a few moments without a response from Bryant's door. He paused, "Let's try Ivana."
"Maybe they're both in Ivana's room together," Nick suggested. AJ shot Nick The Look of Death. "Not like THAT," Nick whined, following as AJ bolted down the hallway. Before they reached Ivana's door, though, she stepped out into the hall. For some reason, AJ and Nick both ducked into the vending machine hallway and peeked around the corner as a man followed Ivana out of the room. Nick glanced at AJ's face, which was stricken with surprise.
AJ wasn't sure what to think. Despite the fact that he'd decided he didn't like Ivana as much as he'd thought he had when Agent Bryant said not to sleep with her, he felt a flame of jealousy burn inside him as Ivana smiled and leaned close to the guy, her fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt. She kissed his mouth and her eyes sparkled up at him. AJ ducked away from the hallway, further into the vending room. Nick glanced at him, then decided to boldly go where no Nicks had gone before: he stepped into the hallway. AJ's jaw dropped and he reached for Nick to stop him, but Nick was already around the corner.
"Agent Focque," Nick called, interrupting the kiss. Ivana looked up at Nick, her eyes panicked, searching the hall behind him for AJ. When no sign of AJ was there, she relaxed. "Agent Focque, have you seen Agent Bryant?"
The guy stared at him blurrily and annoyed as Ivana responded, "He's gone to Scotland Yard for the ballistics test results. He just phoned me to tell me to meet him there. I was just saying good bye to my friend here... Jake."
"Hi," Jake said, flashing a smile.
Nick nodded, "Right. Did you hear the commotion out front? Did you tell Bryant?"
"What commotion?" she looked concerned.
"That gay strip club across the street? The one me and AJ went to tonight?? It's burning down. There's all kinds of apparatus out there trying to kill off the fire," Nick explained. He glanced at Jake. "You ever go there, Jack?"
Jake shook his head. "Never have... And it's Jake, by the way," he corrected.
"GAY strip club?" Ivana's eyes were wide, "Really?" she rushed into the hotel room, leaving the door opened. Jake sighed and followed. Nick stood where he was. AJ peeked around the corner of the vending room door frame. Nick waved him to duck back just before Ivana returned, "How horrible!" she gasped. Jake followed her back out. Nick couldn't help but wonder if the guy was a puppy or a lover.
"Think it has something to do with the Masquerade Murderer?" Nick asked, his voice pitched with nervousness.
"No," Ivana replied, "I'm sure it's just a coincidence..."
Nick nodded, "Okay. I just was gonna tell Agent Bryant, you know, just in case, but... hey you'll see him when you go to get the ballistics test results, right? So tell him while you're there, about the Polari, I mean."
Ivana nodded, "Yes. I will."
Nick smiled, "Thanks." He looked at Jake. "See ya Jason."
"Jake," he replied.
Nick nodded, "What the hell ever..." and returned to where AJ stood waiting in the vending room.
AJ smirked, "Thanks for pissing that jerk off."
Nick laughed, "Yeah, it was fun."
-----
Meanwhile, Agent Bryant was not happy. He had called Ivana quite a few times, and finally managed to get a hold of her. She was running over an hour late, and now the Lieutenant was crossing the room they'd had Bryant wait in, a bright smile on his face, and she was still not there. Bryant stood to shake Lt. Cregg's hand reverently as they greeted one another. Inwardly, he cursed Agent Focque.
"How are you?" Lt. Cregg asked.
"I'm quite well and yourself?" Bryant answered, following as Cregg turned to lead him down the hallway.
"Very good," Cregg replied, "It's actually quite exciting to meet you. You've made a name for yourself after that case with the Backstreet Boys.... it's an honor working with you."
"And with you," Bryant replied with a smile. He paused, then addressed what he felt to be a 500 pound pink elephant tromping along behind him in the hallway. "I apologize that my colleague, Agent Focque, isn't here. She's on her way. She got held up with another case," he covered for her.
"It's all right," Cregg answered, leading Bryant into the ballistics lab. "It actually won't take very long to give you the results." He stopped in front of a table where the bullet lay in a clear plastic case. "See, upon studying this bullet and several makes of various guns, we've determined that there's no way this bullet was fired by the kind of gun your previous reports have shown shot the other bullets you've had tested."
Bryant looked at him, surprised... shocked even. "What?"
"This bullet wasn't fired by the same gun," Cregg said flatly, "There's no way. It wasn't even the same make of gun."
Bryant furrowed his brow. "So you're saying he has more than one gun?"
Lt. Cregg leaned against the lab table. "Well, that's another thing I want to talk to you about. Given the way the bullet entered the victim, the shooter couldn't have been any taller than five foot four."
"Five foot four?" Bryant asked, eyebrows raising, "That's an awful short guy." Lt. Cregg nodded. Bryant paused, "Cregg. Are you saying that my serial killer isn't a guy at all, but actually a woman? But... that doesn't even make sense, really. The victims.. they were women, and..." he let his voice trail off, blinking in surprise.
"Well. It makes sense... scientifically," Cregg replied.
Saving the Day for Blondes 2: The Amazing Story of How Nick Apprehended The Infamous Masquerade Murderer Without ANY Caffeine In His Body! by Pengi
