Do Not Disturb Thank You


vf_isa_icon2.gif vf_shaw_icon2.gif

Scene Title Do Not Disturb, Thank You
Synopsis A short time after their arrival, Isabelle and Shaw don't exactly conform to the standards of this new world yet. But they see that at least one of them has a double who does.
Date January 18, 2012

A Hotel Near Penn Station

The brighter, warmer, greener world around the survivors has been one overwhelming moment after another. For Shaw, it’s been practically a paradise of stimulus that it’s a wonder he hasn’t gone catatonic with how much he’s taken in. They’ve been go-go-go since arriving via portal from another dimension, but now that others have broken off to do whatever it is that they do, the man is left directionless. Or rather, too many directions. Thankfully, he has Izzy. The woman has been a lifesaver thrown into turbulent waters. He clings with his presence nearby, but the occasional wandering off to check out one thing or another has given her some space at times.

This time when they’re standing in a hotel lobby, Shaw returns with hands in his oversized hoodie that has a pouch full of random items, edible things mostly, that he’s picked up on their way. They’ve already left a wandering streak of petty shoplifting behind them. Now it’s time to find a place to sleep. But he had to look around, to scout the place out. Eventually he rejoins Izzy in the hotel lobby seating area, and the first thing he produces from his pockets is a generic lighter, red plastic and metal. But at least it’s full of lighter fluid. It was probably from the nearby gift shop.

He also looks down at the stack of pamphlets he’d taken from the tourist info rack. There may be one of every kind there in his hand. Shaw holds it up, then rolls the stack up a little and shoves it into his pockets. “We won’t have to worry about keeping warm,” he says with a smile. Because now they have kindling, and a lighter. That’s good, right?

As Shaw pilfered the stocked storefronts, Isa cased out the joint. There weren't any heavily guarded men, no malevolent conduits of dark power. And Izzy pushes herself off from the pillar she’s leaning on to walk over to meet Shaw in the middle. Cracking a grin at his kindling. “You're always prepared.” Is offered before she's backing up and winking at him. “Alright,” She hefts a plastic bag along with her pouch given to her by welcoming committee.

“Snagged us some clothes. Let's go get a hot shower. I use to do this all the time before I got the job at Rapture.” Break into hotel rooms that is.

Isa bounces down the hall with her dark sunglasses on, hair pulled back as she draws her hood over her head. Maybe breaking into a hotel reminds her of Brenda and she wants to do something reckless to commemorate her memory. There hasn't been a funeral.

As they head towards the lobby elevators, Shaw spots a security guard standing nearby and shifts his stare a little long at the uniformed man. The two meet eyes, but the guard simply nods a silent acknowledgment before turning back to watch the lobby. Shaw picks up his pace after Isabelle into the elevator.

The floor is picked at random. A short game of close-your-eyes-and-push-a-button later, they’ve wound up on the tenth floor, wandering through carpeted hallways that muffle their footsteps. Every door they pass looks the same too, a wooden affair with a card reading keypad on the locking mechanism. It was easy, back in their own world, to simply punch a hole through the door and unlock it from the inside. But even Shaw understands the need to be discreet. “It’s really nice in here,” he says with a sniff, “Like how things were before.” Before the bomb. Before the virus. So, so long ago. “And those ladies on the bus were really nice. But I still wish I could have kept the rifle. 2nd Amendment.”

They turn the corner of the hall into a different wing and come to the end near the fire exit stairs, stopping at the corner suite. “Funny, Rapture… we kind of went to heaven too, didn’t we? Like, went through death, and now we came out the other side into Paradise.”

Isa doesn’t just not ignore the security guard she winks at him as the pair slide into an elevator and end up on the tenth floor. Izzy looks up and down the hall as they walk, she hears guests in that room.. That room.. Hmm.. ruffling the back of her hair she smiles over towards the man, “You’re a badass with or without a gun babe. We can get a new one.. Why don’t we do that tomorrow?” Who knows if any rifles are on sale but they could steal one, just to make bae happy. The pyrokinetic studies the door of the corner suite as they near it, hazel eyes twinkling.

Moving to stand in front of the door with her back to the rest of the hallway it obscures the view of the door from the other end of the hall. With a wicked grin the woman’s finger dance along the sensor for the card reader there’s a narrowing of here eyes and one by one her fingers ignite in orange flames, keeping the fire small Isa holds her hand against the sensor before squinting her eyes even further. The flames intensify in heat and the air around her grows warmer than it was a moment ago. Smoke curls up from the blaze wafting towards the ceiling, better move fast.

With a beep the sensor finally shorts out, partially melted. Immediately dousing the flames Izzy looks over at Shaw with a grin before turning the lock of the door to push it open to hold it for her partner. “I’d.. say we’re in a paradise now for sure. We deserve this.”

A smile spreads on Shaw’s face at being called a badass. Still buzzing on the compliment, he considers then shrugs. “Tomorrow, or the day after, or after that… Hakuna Matata.” It means no worries. He stops beside her when she picks a door, standing sideways to act as lookout while Isa works her magic. He’s bouncing in place a little when the sensor beeps and shorts out, eyes whipping over to the broken lock and widening in amazement when she pushes the door open.

He steps inside to the darkened suite, sniffing at the air, eyes darting this way and that to the comparatively lavish furnishings. No dirty air, no dusty, moldy furniture. No smell of dead rats or other animals occupying the space. He peeks into the bathroom, though it’s hard to see in given that it’s dark, and then turns back to Isa. “Nobody here but us,” he confirms with a singular nod. He looks past her out of the door one more time. And then without much warning, he steps in closer to her with an intent to kiss the woman.

“Oh ok Simba. Does that make me.. Nala?” A big grin on her face as they enter the room. Yep, clean and smelling lovely. She could really get used to this and she’s looking forward to many days in fluffy beds and TV, god how much TV she needed to catch up on. Throwing her bag in the nearby chair and stretching her arms out she’s caught off guard by Shaw’s advance but it’s a good caught off guard. She meets him halfway and leans in closer still, the ever present taste of alcohol is there.

Placing her hands on her shoulders before running them up the back of his neck and his hair. Gripping it and yanking it back a bit to nibble at his neck before staring up at him with a grin, “All alone.” As it should be. Isabelle’s eyes don’t reflect flames but she looks over at the window before hazel orbs find Shaw’s. She’s warm, she’s always warm. The air around her kicks up a notch from the nature of her ability. Her emotions in full control of her ability and how it presents itself. Fire reflects in her eyes as she moves in for another lock of their lips.

They’d been in a tense situation, back in their world. After the raid on the Vanguard facility and their following run through the city, it was as if they’d been carried by a constant undercurrent of inevitable death. And now even here, there is a hurried, feverish quality to the embrace. But there’s another reason for Shaw’s forwardness as he spins her to press her up against the open room door. Her back conceals the broken, singed lock from view. His hands move to either side of her waist, pushing her up against the outer door latch.

They’re in full view of the short hallway as one of the nearby room doors opens and another couple of guests, an older, grey-haired yet only middle-aged man in a mid-grey suit and a dark-haired woman in a little black dress accompanying him step out. What conversation they were having - making sure they had their key card, car keys, and email regarding dinner reservations - pauses as they spot the blatant, heated display.

Shaw doesn’t break off the deep kiss, but turns his head slightly so that the exiting couple can see him eyeing them sidelong. The woman catches sight of Shaw and Izzy locked together and lets out a soft gasp of surprise, not having expected to see either an open door or an open display of a sensual nature.

The man frowns as he sees Shaw eyeing their way, and with a hand, steers the woman away towards the elevators. “C’mon honey, we’re going to miss our reservations.” They move on down the hall until they turn the corner at the elevators, disappearing from view.

Once they’re gone, Shaw breaks off the kiss to take a breath. Or several. His hands also slip off of Izzy’s body as he takes a step back and gives her a chance to breathe. He blinks a few times, looking back at her as though he means to explain himself and why he did that. But the explanation only comes out with, “They didn’t see anything, I think.” The singed lock, that is.

Tense is right and Isa has been wound up. She relaxes in Shaw’s arms before being pushed against the door and raking his back with her nails. The wallpaper in the room begins to bubble a little and peel back slowly as they meld into one another. Being in the hallway makes for more fun, it's dangerous and Izzy snickers as the couple marks their disapproval with looks. “Yes that's right, lots of tits and ass action going on over here! You like a show?”

Yelling at the couple’s hasty retreating backs the woman relaxes against the door and the temperature noticeably has dropped back to normal levels, that doesn't mean she's done with Shaw. The woman shrugs her shoulders. “I figure we have a little to get showered and fresh.”

Then the fun begins… more fun.

“Security, Old crotchety people. It's bound to happen.” Moving in to place another quick kiss on the man’s lips, Isa’s dark grin on her face as she backs into the room and lifts her shirt to remove it before throwing it in the corner. “Come on stinky. Shower time.”

The parting shot from Isabelle hastens the couple’s retreat until they’re no longer in view and no longer in earshot, only the ring of the elevator arrival sounding their completed retreat. It’s not hard to tell that Shaw is more amused by the brazen words from the fiery personality pyrokinetic than he is any indication of mortified by it. Why would they have any reason to be worried about public displays, when the intimate setting of the Hub with people living practically atop each other made for a certain understanding of that lack of privacy.

As Shaw peeks up at the patterns of bubbled and peeling wallpaper near the doorway, Izzy sneaks in her kiss. Shaw blinks, watching as she backs up with her shirt being tossed to the side. He moves to follow, but Shaw also remembers a thing. Fingers reach for the tag on the other side of the door handle, and he hangs it on the outer handle, ‘Do Not Disturb Thank You’ swinging freely. He shuts the door.

The oversized hoodie he wears has to be emptied of contents in the front pouch, which consists of the tourist info pamphlets, the red lighter, various protein and nut bars, candy, and a plastic bottle of water. It’s a lot of things to carry around. Then off is the hoodie itself, revealing his thin frame to her in the bright fluorescence of the lights in the room. The scars he bears are both old and new, of injection sites for the negation drug, of a life of roughing it in a world of dark, brick, rust and metal. She has them too, no doubt.

He follows her to the bathroom, the remainder of his filthy clothes shed directly onto the shower floor. Water, clean water, was a precious resource. Showers were quick and coupled with laundry. The clean feeling would be a layer of paradise unto itself. And he was anticipating sharing the feeling with Isabelle too.

Hazel eyes are on Shaw’s form as Isa whips around to walk backwards towards the bathroom with a wicked grin. Turning the knob of the shower to release a hot jet of water, “How long has it been since.. you took a proper shower?” The question strikes Izzy and she snorts, “Fuck.. it's been..” the rest of her clothes had hit the floor already before Shaw walked into the bathroom. Already steam is fogging up the mirror.

“Well come on.”

Sliding into the shower with no hesitation the brunette winks at Shaw as she grabs for the soap and my god.. it's heaven. It smells like lavender, a hint of mint. Isa begins to scrub the dirt, grime, blood.. that's underneath her filthy clothes. Steam rises and swirls around her, curling over her shoulders. A scar right under her collarbone is prominent. The ones that criss cross her back from near death run ins back “home.”

Various scabs and scars cover her body much like her tattoos. Snaking up and down her back, Izzy takes pride in her scars. She's worked for them. She would say. She's a survivor and so is Shaw, turning her head to give him another look over the shoulder.

“Ummm…” Shaw genuinely tries to answer the question, but he can’t. It’s not only the distraction of Izzy’s form, but the thought of a shower and getting clean first that is in itself a distraction from the past. Their past worries are behind them. Time to start anew. Afresh, rather.

The room is a little tight for two and all their clothes. Those eventually get pushed out of the shower, out of the way. She’s seen the scars that mark him, the oldest ones being surgical in nature, slits and incisions from when he was in a hospital long ago. There are others, but nothing that would say serious. The newer ones were all minor scrapes and cuts. Though he’s ignored them on himself, on her it’s a different story.

“Here,” he says over the running water as he reaches for one of the room’s travel sized bottles of shampoo. Squeezing a conservative daub of it into his hands, he then slides his fingers through her wet hair. The foaming mixture is worked in slowly rubbed circles, then pressed into the strands of her hair. He’s deliberate, methodical, making sure that at the very least, she’s clean.

Back in the Hub, they would have called it decontamination. Here? There’s not really a word in his mind for it yet.

As Shaw goes to shampoo her hair Isa giggles, “That tickles.” But she doesn't tell him to stop, eyes closed she grabs the soap and starts to scrub at Shaw’s body. “Listen, I need you to know. I'm gonna keep you safe. And you keep me safe.” The steam from the shower making the air thick and allows the water of the shower to wash the shampoo out of her hair. The water and soap and hair products make the woman sigh as she relaxes under the constant stream of water. “Thank you God.”

“I know this is all.. fucking crazy but we’re safe. Nothing will change that.” Izzy sounds real, real sure of herself. But this isn't something she can totally promise and Shaw must know that. The intention feels good though.

Taking the shampoo and massaging it now on his scalp, “This..” feeling the hot water on her skin, Shaw’s hands. “Is Paradise. Heaven yeah?”

Grinning as she giggles under his touch, Shaw also twitches at the touch of her and the soap along his body. He laughs, tone playful as are his hands which slide out of her hair onto her bare shoulders. When she tells him to listen, he does with a blink and forward lean closer. He turns his face a little so the shower water isn’t hitting him directly in the face.

“I will keep you safe,” he responds, a slight hitch of words as his emotion wells and stick in his throat. His head bends as she washes his hair in turn, his eyes closing to simply enjoy the sensation. At her mention of Paradise and Heaven, those eyes open up again. It’s not with words that he responds, but a slow nod and step that draws him closer to her, mouth seeking hers.

A Few Hours Later

The steady rise and fall of Shaw’s chest interrupts with a short hitch of breath. He shifts a little in the bed, trying to find a new spot to keep his leg underneath the sheets. It was wrapped around hers earlier. But now he uses it as a balancing weight as he reaches out to the bedside table, fingers scraping for the end of the remote control on there. They didn’t exactly watch the movie on the television screen, so the scene playing out is a little confusing. Still he’s trying to study it when the drama reaches a peak moment… and the channel cuts to their commercial break.

So, they may have raided the minibar. They’ve also broken into their neighbor’s room to raid that minibar. And found the bottles of wine amongst the possessions in the room next door. Those definitely didn’t taste like Izzy’s moonshine. The couple bottles of wine stand like sentinels surrounded by the smaller bottles of alcohol from the minibar. All of them are empty now, and one rolls off one end and fall to the carpeted floor as Shaw finally snags the remote. He glances down, a little drunkenly slurred in his words when he utters, “Oops.”

This was like living like royalty. Isa could get use to this. A queen and king, her drunk mind deduces that they are. “We’re royalty.” She hiccups as eyelids flutter open and she rolls over to stare at Shaw. “We broken a lot of shit.” Is an absent minded statement as she rolls her neck and cuddles on Shaw, she's warm as always. The commercial gets a blank stare, “They really all look so happy here.” Hand going to rest on his chest along with her cheek as she stares over at the screen.

It was shocking when they had just come from one of the most depressing places. “Like Whoa Nelly. We could have been these people.” Her hair is a mess and she shakes and ruffles it out of the tangles it's in. Reaching over to grab a bottle of wine that's on her side and chug it a bit.

“Magnes is gonna be so jealous. He’s probably having his own adventures with Elaine.” And their soon to be baby, she shudders at the thought of bearing her own children and then she thinks back to all those kids in the cages. Nah, she doesn't deserve to now. That's okay though. “We’ll need to have some sorta dinner to welcome us to this place.” Almost losing her grip on the wine.

Abandoning the small bottle on the floor, Shaw turns back to Isa as well, leaning against her warmth, head resting on the softest pillow he’s laid his head on. In the softest bed he’s slept in. “I like who we are, though,” he murmurs in a stray thought when she reaches for the wine and drinks. He tilts his head, angling a half-lidded look and slow blink at the woman sharing the bed with him, at her form, studying the lines of her from wild mussed hair to where it disappears into the sheets. “Dinner sounds good…” But then he wonders, “Do you think he is happy, too? He’s going to have a family… two families, maybe.” Because there’s the one in Magnes’ home dimension, he assumes.

Musings about homes and families will have to wait, however, as a familiar sounding voice comes on the television with a background of twanging banjo and guitars. It’s meant to sound like country, even though it comes off with a more Pakistani folk song bent. The voice and music make Shaw turn his attention from Isabelle and he sits up straighter in bed. Much straighter after that, his eyes going wide and staring at the screen… at himself on the screen. Because there is another Shaw, dressed in a suit and a cowboy hat spouting on about DIY construction projects languishing and if one’s floors were in disrepair, don’t despair, they’ll be right there and then be out of your hair. The number at the end of the commercial is in a rhyming scheme too, their flooring prices will drop your jaw, call 1-800-YEE-SHAW.

Shaw twitches uncomfortably, the shock settling into his system and sobering him quickly. “Wh-what? That was me,” he realizes when the commercial ends and moves to the next for some cleaning product. He slips out of the bed, moving to the TV in an unsteady clip, forgetting about the remote and grasping the screen in both hands. “That was the other me.”

God he's hot in every timeline.

Is Izzy’s immediate reaction to realizing that it was Shaw on the screen. Eyes wide but she can't help but crack a smile at the YEE-SHAW. Scrambling forward clutching the sheet to her chest to protect her modesty, not that it was something she was caught up with usually. Hazel eyes studying the screen as the man grips both sides staring directly into the screen.

“You're a fucking entrepreneur. I'm so proud.” Wrapping herself and the sheet around him from behind she's an inch shorter but she stands on tiptoes to lean her head over Shaw’s shoulder strands of her brown hair tickling his upper back and neck. “I like the hat.” She whispers slowly to him. Warm hands come to his other shoulder to squeeze, “Do you want to meet him?” She'd support him in that if he really wanted. Fuck the rules.

“I’m famous?” Shaw cants his head questioningly, confusedly. Because famous people are on television, this much he remembers of the world before. He turns slightly as Izzy comes forward to lean against him, a hand reaching back to wind into her hair. The commercial break on the television marching on to the next spot for a restaurant. “You are?” he wonders when she says she’s proud.

The question of whether or not he wants to meet his double is met with a turn and the slightest frown of troubled thoughts. “But the ladies on the bus said…” He pauses, reconsidering. “Would it be bad? Maybe, maybe could watch him and see if he’s nice.” Would it hurt that much? Shaw turns more to face Izzy, reaching up to her shoulders and searching her eyes, the trust there implicit.

It’s in that quiet moment that they can hear outside their door, the alarmed “George! Look!” of their neighbor-guests having returned to find the lock on their door broken.

“Honey, stay back…”
“Oh, be careful!”

Shaw suddenly tenses, looking past Izzy towards the wall as the sound of the other room’s door opens. “We’re in trouble,” he concludes in the quiet. He lets go of her shoulders as he steps back, glancing around the room to their stuff scattered about.

“You're a star baby. Look at you! Of course I'm proud. You’ve got all the potential in the world… I'm gonna have to make sure the ladies keep their hands off.” Grinning widely she wonders if this timeline’s Shaw is a playboy before chuckling at Shaw’s reaction. At least his other self wasn't dead. “I wonder where I.. am.” Eyebrows pitching together before she shrugs because they had a long while to figure out the history of her family.

Staring Shaw directly in the eyes she tilts her head before landing a quick kiss on his lips, “Whatever you want.” And Isa means it, Shaw can tell by the look in her eyes, his trust mirrored in her eyes. She doesn't mention Tamara or Kathleen’s warning. It might not be the best idea but damn it if Shaw wanted to then they would.

At the sound of the approaching couple Izzy sighs, “Alright time's up.” Dropping the sheet to go for the clothes that she had been given, clean clothes. She slips them on, a dark green tank top with black tight jeans. The boots are tugged on as she ruffles her hair. Looking at Shaw with a raised eyebrow, “Ready?” Grabbing her black hoodie to zip up while pulling the hood low over her hair. They definitely need to bust out of there, her body tenses as she prepares, fist curling before she strides towards the door to yank it open, “Move.

A flush of color is in Shaw’s features for the high praise he receives from Isabelle, although he also wonders with her. “It should be in the packet that they gave us right?” He looks worried, though, when she wonders. Normally she’s the one with her shit together, in his eyes. But there’s a kiss that distracts him from thinking too deeply of what meeting his double would imply, and what he wants to do.

The return of the couple next door is the alarm they need, and it gets Shaw moving too as he pulls on a clean black tee and dark jeans. On goes the souvenir style, oversized hoodie, hood over head, and shoving whatever leftover possessions and the lighter snatched up from the nightstand into the clear plastic ice bucket bag. Their bug out bag. “Okay, we’re good,” he says with a nod to Izzy.

The pair nearly burst out of the hotel room like a couple of thieves. They startle George, his “honey”, and see the approach of the security guard called by the couple from the elevator lobby down the hall. So far the guard doesn’t look like he’d be able to catch up unless he sprinted out the elevator, but he doesn’t because this isn’t an emergency call. Perfect. Shaw ducks around Izzy, grabbing her wrist with his free hand and the pair quietly walk in the opposite direction of the approaching guard since they’ll be taking the stairs, thank you.

However. George’s lady companion pipes up when she recovers, pointing to Izzy and Shaw both and calling out accusingly, “Hey! Excuse me, you two, didn’t you even hear that our room was broken into?! Hey! Stop!”

But Shaw doesn’t stop. They reach the stairwell door and he doesn’t pause, yanking the door open as they hear the guard calling too. “You two! Stop where you are!”

Too late, though. The two disappear into the stairwell with the sounds of the guard breaking out into a key-jangling run. And Shaw, instead of running down the stairs, grins at Izzy and notes that they go up. The trick they pull on the security guard sees them getting onto the eleventh floor, where they quickly move to the elevator again and slide into a different car with a family of four departing their room with their luggage.

Soon enough, after a short ride down, they’re in the lobby again. The activity in the lobby is hectic enough that the two of them slip away through the crowd as security is looking, but unable to spot the two weaving through the lobby occupants and guests.

And once they’re out the door into the streets, they’re gone.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License