75 Godiva Road, Saturday Morning

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Noah often didn't want to get up in the mornings when that arrogant overseer, Cato, rang the bell calling the field hands to work. Being a blacksmith was easier than picking cotton--no worries about getting whipped if he didn't make weight, for one--but it was still long hours and hard work, making sure that all the horses were shoed and the tools repaired and every bit of metal on the plantation was bright and shining.

Waking up this morning was even harder. His bed felt soft, like a cloud, and his blankets like the gentlest cotton, wouldn't scratch a baby's naked ass. His sheets felt clean and crisp and the soft breathing from behind him--

Sheets?

Breathing?

Noah's eyes snapped open but he made himself lie perfectly still. Sure, last night had been one of Bareback Shaw's parties, but that didn't explain why he was asleep in one of the white folks' rooms! He didn't even wanna guess what kinda punishment that would entail if he was found here. Never mind the one he'd get for not being back in his quarters by sunup.

Another muffled noise behind him. Noah wasn't sure he wanted to look over and see who it was. He was praying that it would be another slave. Getting caught in a white woman's bed would result in something far worse than just more stripes on his back.

Maybe he could just...eeeeease on out of this bed and be out the door and on his way back to Macon before anyone was the wiser.

[For thems that live here! Also TRIGGER WARNING! Hardison is Noah from WGN's Underground and is a slave from 1850's Georgia. That means there will be references to slavery, beatings, lynchings, sexual assault and rape/coercion and pretty much every other horrible topic that comes up in conjunction with treating humans like chattel.]

Comments

[vdistinctive]

"What the fuck's happening if I get to baby sit your sorry ass for the weekend to make sure I get my Parker back in one piece. Which means, first off." Eliot held up the unloaded gun and made a show of dismantling it piece by piece. "No guns.

[whoisalicewhite]

Miss Parker's face held a snarl for a minute, then faded to almost total blankness. What Eliot's Parker did on reflexive default, this Parker had taught herself to do through strong motivation.

"I don't need anyone to protect me, cowboy. Not if they just tell me where the target is." Her eyes flicked to the disassembled gun, and she set her teeth. She focused on the newest bit of information. "The weekend? I have to spend two days with you jokers?"

[vdistinctive]

Eliot's eye twitched faintly at being called "cowboy" in that tone. "That's how long it's lasted before. But you ain't gonna find any 'targets' here."

[whoisalicewhite]

Miss Parker noted that, and decided that she was going to get her gun back. And make Spencer's eye twitch as much as possible for as long as she was here. "Oh really. And where is here? Some dude ranch in hicksville? The last thing I remember I was in New Orleans." If Jarod set this up, the guy would already know that. Which lead to: "What did that psycho do to Broots and Sydney?" Well. Mostly Broots. Sydney was probably just stranded in a five-star suite somewhere.

[vdistinctive]

"Lady, your interrogation skills need work." Eliot rolled his eyes. "'Here' is my place on Fandom Island. Maryland. And your name droppin' don't mean a goddamn thing to me."

[whoisalicewhite]

Oh, did she ever want to shoot him. But Miss Parker was even more confused than she was angry at this point, which was saying something.

"Maryland? The hell?" She gave him a look and pursed her lips. "Why is this happening? What kind of hoops do I have to jump through to get some answers?"

[vdistinctive]

"I can give you plenty of answers," Eliot said. "You just ain't gonna like 'em."

To say the least.

[whoisalicewhite]

Making a noise without words in it, a cross between a huff of rage and snort of derision, Miss Parker said, "I'd be shocked if I did. Give it your best shot, cowboy."

[vdistinctive]

"This island is a magical interdimensional nexus and you've literally replaced my girlfriend Parker for the weekend. Because Fandom thinks it's funny."

[whoisalicewhite]

Miss Parker stared at him for a solid minute, giving him her undivided attention.

Then she started laughing like a hyena, and slumped against the wall. "That's just... great. Super!" More laughter. "And insane."

[vdistinctive]

"Ain't disagreeing," Eliot said, waiting for her to finish. "Don't mean it ain't true."

[whoisalicewhite]

"Uh-hunh," Miss Parker said genially, while side-stepping over to the window. She didn't fool herself that Spencer missed the movement, but she wanted to see where she was for herself--

--and okay, this didn't look anywhere near New Orleans. Jarod, you bastard, I am gonna get you for this if it is the last thing I do, she vowed. "So. Have you got a phone I can borrow?"

Because she was getting out of here as soon as Broots could get her a chopper.

[vdistinctive]

"Depends on what you plan to do with it." There were several burners that wouldn't give her any useful information, but that didn't mean Eliot was just going to hand one to her without making her work for it.

She really shouldn't try to use "cowboy" as an insult.

[whoisalicewhite]

Awww, but it was so appropriate!

"Just calling a friend." Miss Parker showed all her teeth. "Wouldn't you rather I was somewhere else?" And wouldn't life be easier if he didn't have to babysit her? "There are people missing me. As long as I can call them, this isn't a kidnapping."

[vdistinctive]

"Ain't a kidnapping either way," Eliot said. "I don't want you here anymore'n you wanna be here." He gave her a slow once over, then nodded once and moved to the dresser, putting the gun bits away -- in a lock box -- and pulling out a a cheap, old school flip phone. He tossed it over to her. "If you can't contact 'em, don't hold it against me. Fandom ain't likely to want you wandering off."

[whoisalicewhite]

What the hell did he mean, if she couldn't contact them?

She found out within minutes, calling Broots, Sydney, her father, the Center... and finding all of those numbers either out of order or belonging to someone else.

"NO! I do not want to know what your pizza special of the day is, you pinhead!" Miss Parker shouted as she paced. "I want to talk to the Director-- goddamnit. You are the cherry topping on the crap sundae of my day, kid, just forget it!"

She slammed the phone shut and threw it at the bed, pushing her hands through her hair and counting to ten. Could the phone be a trap, somehow? Could they be, God, somewhere out of phone service from regular-- no, that was stupid. Jesus, what was going on?

She stopped pacing to glare at Spencer again. "So. What happens now?"

Aside from noting where he put the pieces of her gun, yup.

[vdistinctive]

Eliot shrugged. "I was thinkin' I'd make breakfast."

[whoisalicewhite]

Annoyingly, her stomach took that moment to speak up in protest. Miss Parker grimaced. Then folded her arms. Sullenly.

"Coffee?"

Was vital to her ability to function, and might cut her hostility by a quarter.

[vdistinctive]

Eliot nodded. "Coffee," he agreed. "And maybe even some protein."