Reynolds Reunion


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Scene Title Reynolds Reunion
Synopsis A mixup with the K. Reynolds in the Corinthian leads to two sisters reuniting after more than a decade.
Date September 26, 2010

The Corinthian: Kelly's Room

Sunday night seems to be a nice, relaxing night for Kelly. She's ordered up room service, steak of course, because what else would an assassin eat. The TV in the room is off, but music plays. Classical. Moonlight sonata right now. She sits on the bed to eat, seeming to enjoy such a tame night. Though some wouldn't consider it tame since she has her rather large snake, Bob, on the bed as well, letting him slither around and coil about one ankle.

Tired after a long flight and only wanting to get a few hours of sleep before having to get up to go to the studio for another grueling session with staff writers that like to think they're funny, Kristen slips her keycard into the door outside the room. Whether it's just an oversight, or some kind of sick prank, the woman at the front desk gave her a keycard to a room that the producer knows isn't hers.

But she's just too tired to argue.

Pushing open the door, she hefts one of her bags and tosses it into the room ahead of her before lugging her carryon while dragging the other heavy suitcase in behind her. It's likely that the very first thing Kelly sees is a thin bottom clad in a skirt not meant for hauling anything. Then, Kristen comes into view, at least the back of her. Her long brown hair, loose and in waves tumbling past her shoulder blades, she is facing the opposite end of the large room.

When the door starts to open Kelly reaches for her gun and has it pointed in the direction of the door. "Whoever you are, you've got the wrong room. I'd suggest you walk right back out," she warns in a cool, flat voice. She can't be expected to recognize the butt of the sister she hasn't seen in years, after all.

Before turning around, there's an exasperated sigh from Kristen's lips before she turns around with a nonplussed expression on her elfin features. "Look unless there's another K. Rey— " She stops short and just gapes at the woman holdnig a gun. "Are you kidding?! A gun?! Who the hell points a gun at— Do you know who I— " The outraged stammering of the thin woman stops and her eybrows knit together in a rather confused countenance. "Kelly?"

The gun lowers and Kelly frowns at Kristen, before she sighs and sets the gun aside. "Well this was unexpected. And I'll have to talk to the hotel staff about giving out keycards." But then she gives the tiniest of smiles. "Hi Kristen. May as well come in and visit. There are two beds, after all. Don't mind Bob. He's never bit anyone," she says, brushing fingers over the cool scaley skin.

Kristen's lips downturn in an appalled manner as her brown eyes sweep over the length of the reptile sharing her sister's bed. "You've got to be kidding me, you're sleeping with a snake? At least mine can be called human some of the time." If only she'd bought an iphone instead of a blackberry, she could have bought the app with the rimshot, or even the laugh track. Well live and learn.

"I hope you don't mind if I don't stay for a sleepover." There's a hint of apology in her voice, just a little, but she's still eying that snake. "I have an early day tomorrow and I really can't afford to be late. It's an important season with mandatory registration and all the terrorist acts, could give me my best ratings yet."

"I'm not sleeping with him, I'm just letting him run around while I eat. He has a cage," Kelly says, nodding to said cage. If she were anyone but herself she'd probably be disappointed or hurt at Kristen's answer, but being how she is, she nods. "You don't have to stay. I'm just surprised you're in New York. Much less here in the same hotel as me."

"I'm at a hotel because this damned curfew doesn't let me get back to my apartment while stopping for a bite to eat. At least here there's room service. Besides, I'm pretty sure I can have a few free nights a year on the company." The self confident smirk that's displayed so proudly on every picture Kristen has allowed go public is ever present on her face. Folding her arms over her chest, she actually takes a few steps toward the other bed, giving the reptile a very wide berth. "What about you? What are you doing here? I thought you moved to Cambodia or someplace without telephones."

"No, I moved to Vegas, then I got moved here for work. And I'm here in this hotel because it's owned by my boss," Kelly answers, returning to her food while they talk. "How long have you been in the city though, Kristen? And how's the littlest Reynolds?" Unsurprisingly, she doesn't ask about their mom.

There’s a simple shrug from the thin woman and something of a nonchalant fairy wave as she twirls one of her hands in the air. “Oh… I’ve been here for years, I’m practically a native.” When talk moves toward their family, Kristen opts to sit on the other bed and examine the nails on one of her hands. “I really do need a manicure, possibly a pedicure. I just hate looking at my feet after flying, don’t you?” To those that know her, it’s of little surprise that the topic would change away, even with Kelly.

“If you’re a native, then why were you on a plane? Not to mention the baggage?” Kelly asks, brow arching. “I’ll admit to being surprised to see you. Wasn’t ever very likely that we’d run into each other randomly here, after all. You look…” What’s a proper word to use here? Social skills are very much not Kelly’s forte. “good,” is what she settles for.

“Business trip, I do that a lot. Unfortunately not everyone who is anyone lives in New York and not everyone who is anyone will take a meeting in only one day.” Flipping the hand she was so recently examining toward the large suitcase, one finger juts straight out in a point while the rest are curled into her palm. “That is what we call the side effect of a fairly hard to get a hold of Hollywood director who will remain nameless.” Lowering her voice, Kristen leans toward Kelly with a sly sort of smirk and taps the side of her nose with the formerly pointing finger. “I will tell you that he owns a pretty famous vineyard in NoCal and is evolved…”

Kelly doesn’t seem interested in the name of the director. But then, she never shows much of any emotion if she can help it. “I see. Well, still, it is still a surprise, but it’s good to see you. You didn’t say how our sister is doing though. Good?”

“I wouldn’t know, actually. I haven’t called in… I don’t know… Thirteen years now?” It seems like Kelly wasn’t the only one that didn’t look back. Leaning back against the pillows, the younger of the two closes her eyes and places a hand over her forehead dramatically. Some things never change, middle child syndrome took a deep root in Kristen. “Anyway, how about we don’t talk about that? Otherwise there could be a chance that we don’t call each other after tonight.” One never knows with the way they’ve kept in touch.

“I don’t know what else to talk about. I don’t do small talk well. Mostly I just discuss business,” Kelly says with a faint grimace. “Though if you have a subject, feel free to suggest it. I’m not that difficult.”

“So, let’s discuss business then. What do you do for the Linderman Group?” There, Kristen came out with it. Enough of the beating around the bush, with all the little hints passed back and forth and the fact that the name is pasted onto the end credits of her show, it’s fairly obvious they ended up working for the same company. “Technically, I’m something of a PR person… Although, I think it’s more along the lines of leading the minds of the common sheep.” The younger Reynolds’ smile widens and she glances toward her sister. “I gotta say, it’s sure good to see you.” In the last statement, a little bit of the Tennessee drawl comes out in her carefully confined accent.

That gets an honest reaction out of Kelly! Unfortunately it’s just an arching of one dark brow. “You work for Linderman too? Handy. And I do odd jobs. Whatever he needs me to do. Like moving from Las Vegas to New York with very little explanation.” She shrugs faintly. “It’s a good job.”

“Sounds like…” Kristen emits in a quieter voice, the hint of Southern completely gone again. “Yeah, I work for Linderman… pretty much since graduation. Speaking of which, did you ever? Graduate?” Not that she’s judging her older sister, maybe just a little. “If you’re ever really unhappy with running errands, I might be able to get you something on the show. You never know.”

The question, or more specifically, the bit about running errands has Kelly smiling. It’s brief, only lasting a second, but it’s there. “I am content with my job, Kristen. And I have no need for a second job. I live in the hotel because I wish to, not because I lack the money to do otherwise.”

“It was just an offer,” Kristen quips flippantly as she gives Kelly a look of faux concern. Of course it never crossed her mind that her sister is impoverished, not with a hotel room as lavish as the one she has. “People don’t live in hotels like this if they’re poor, so I know that you’re not hurting. I was just saying… I mean you lived in Vegas before.” What is Kristen implying exactly?

And that is precisely what Kelly asks straight out! “Yes, what of it? Does living in Vegas mean something I’m unaware of?”

“Kelly, you know what living in Vegas without a degree in business or marketing means. You’re either a showgirl or a hooker.” Kristen’s matter of fact way of putting it is off putting, almost surprising, actually. It’s a vast change from the quiet little teenager that Kelly left a half a lifetime ago. “And face it… we all know that you can’t dance that well… and you really don’t look like a man.”

“Actually there are a number of jobs that don’t require a degree that aren’t showgirl or hooker. Dealer, for example,” Kelly points out dryly. “And I don’t need to dance or look like a man to do my job, even without a degree. It hardly matters if I’ve whored myself in the past or not.”

“What I meant was, you don’t look manish enough to be a dancer or a hooker in Vegas.” Which goes to show what Kristen thinks of the locals. Swinging her feet off the bed and coming to a stand, she brushes the wrinkles out of her smart little outfit and checks herself in a nearby reflection. “Listen, I have to get going. Like I said, early morning and everything. I’ll give you my number and I’m pretty sure I’ll remember yours… the room number at least.”

Pulling a business card from her pocket, she hands it out with a straight arm toward Kelly. “I hope you’ll keep in touch a little better than last time. I’ll put something of a effort in too. Who knows, maybe we’ll see each other at business functions. We could have a date night, unless the snake isn’t your only companion.” This little tidbit might be indicative of Kristen’s own status, marital or otherwise.

“Anyway, toodles~” Kristen sings behind her with a wave as she moves toward her luggage. Picking it by the handle, she drags it toward the door and pulls out her cellphone on the way out. “Hello, Front Desk…. this is Kristen Reynolds? Yes… You gave me the room of someone with a snake… Now this is how you’re going to make it up to me.”

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