Play@YSDC

Ceciliaheard her name being called out. It was most assuredly Jack's voice. He wasn't far outside the door.

She turns around, her dulled reflexes raising her arms a bit too late to defend herself if need be. But he's not here. "Yeah?" she shouts back, putting a hand on the kitchen door. "I'm looking for food!"

Oh, great. She just told him where she is. Well, not really, but he's not stupid. He can figure it out. Was that a good idea?

Why is she being so damn paranoid?

Jack immediately turned to the direction of the noise and started walking. "Thank god, I thought you disappeared for a moment there!" Jack shouted.

"What? No." Cecilia rolls her eyes and tries the door to the kitchen.

It opens smoothly in her hands to reveal a rather smart and modern kitchen. All shiny chrome surfaces and modern looking knobs comfortably lit by the glare of many fluorescent lights. It looked like the attempts to keep a classic feel to the hotel didn't extend to the kitchen at least. There's a large meat locker door at the other end but there is also a pair of fridges standing up against one wall. The kitchen, in particular, smells like baking cookies and pizza.

"Wait," Jack said. "Where are you?"

"I'm in the kitchen! Are you hungry?" She opens the fridge on the left, looking for any cooked meaty things that a kitten might enjoy.

Jack can no longer hear her. Too many walls in the way.

There's nothing in the fridge. Either of them.

Jack wandered along the side of he walls in the general direction of the voice. She had to be in some kind of restaurant, right?

That's odd. This kitchen seems so clean, and utterly devoid of food, but the scents tell another story! She bends over to check the oven.

Jack opens the door to the restaurant and enters a room that looks like it's being packed away (or unpacked) with chairs mounted on top of the tables in one corner. A few tables are still out and one is set with silverware and a gravy-smeared plate. There's another door that likely leads back out into the corridor and a door that should lead into the kitchen. There's no sign of Cecilia in here.

Cecilia finds two ways of cookies in the oven. One are peanut butter cookies and the others are double choc chocolate-chip cookies and they all smell quite warm and freshly baked. Yummy! Her tummy growls at the thought. Yes, she's already eaten, but she was starving beforehand.

"Cecilia?" Jack shouted out. His stomach growled at the sight of the plate. How long has it been since he has last eaten anyways? It seemed awfully convenient that somebody would just leave out plates of food in an abandoned hotel though.

"Are you in the kitchen?"

Cookies! Cecilia uses her old, wet shirt as an improvised potholder and pulls both trays out, setting them down on a free countertop. If only Katie could be here to share.

When was the last time they baked a batch of cookies together? It was supposed to be a family thing, when they were a family. If she thinks hard enough, she can remember helping her own mother with her silly pink apron, trying to sneak handfuls of chocolate chips right out of the bag.

The tray is surprisingly cool though the cookies appear, and smell, both warm and freshly baked. There's plenty here. About twenty per over-sized tray. She settles it on the countertop with ease. No monster leaps out at her. No severed head rolls out of the oven. This place seems so safe. Nothing horrible at all has happened recently. Perhaps it was all just a dream? Or a nightmare? Perhaps this hotel was shut down out-of-season and she'd just madly stumbled inside? There's no monsters. Nothing wrong. Just a lack of hotel visitors and staff.

Jack hears no answering call. In the silence of the restaurant, it's easy to think that he might be utterly alone.

"Cecie...?" Jack said, his eyes suddenly round. He walked quickly over to the kitchen and opened its doors.

"Oh, hi." Cecilia's eyes dart around the kitchen, eventually settling on the trays of cookies. She takes a double chocolate one and nods at him. "Uh, look what I found!"

Maybe... this is a good time to talk about things. Or not. Not is also good.

"Nice," Jack said, moving towards her and still holding on to the kitten. He let it down on the kitchen counter and leaned against it as he picked up one of the cookies.

"Got anything for the kitten though?" he said, eyeing the meat locker.

"No. The fridges are empty." She nibbles on the cookie's edge, then suddenly feels awkward and stuffs the cookie into her mouth, so she won't have to talk. Swallowing, she reaches up to brush the crumbs off her face... oh, God, there's still gravy there.

Cecilia quickly turns her back to him and tries to lick it away from the corners of her mouth, pretending to fiddle with something in her hands.

"Hey," Jack said, putting a hand on her arm. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she squeaks, tensing up the moment he touches her. She yanks her arm away and quickly wipes her mouth, then turns around. "I... I just..."

Cecilia's eyes meet his for a split second before she looks away, down at the kitchen floor. "Jack, I think we should talk. About what happened. In the lobby."

Well. There's no taking that back now.