Smol Women

Chapter Nineteen

The only pair going into the night with no (or very low) expectations were Gibby and Theodore. And yet they were still let down.

As they stood on the elevator going up to their room, they were in good humour.

"Okay, as weird as it is, you gotta admit that Max accidentally being recruited by ISIS is pretty hilarious," Theodore told Gibby with a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah," Gibby smiled back. "Concerning, but hilarious. How does that even happen?"

The elevator doors opened to their floor and the pair stepped out. They headed down the hall to their room and opened the door, only to both let out groans.

"Goddamn it, Max!" Theodore muttered. "I'm sorry, Gibby, but I'm not sharing a bed with you."

Gibby snorted, "Ditto. C'mon, let's go down to the front desk and get it fixed... somehow."

As quickly as they entered their room, they left, and returned to the elevator. As they were descending, it stopped and the doors opened to reveal Maxy Max and Tank, who stepped on.

"Perfect," Gibby smiled. "Hey, Max, you got us a room with only one bed. We wanna change it, can you help?"

No response from Maxy Max, who didn't even seem to notice them. Instead, his attention was fixed on Tank who was freaking out and trying to open the elevator doors.

"Tank, chill," Theodore said. "Max, hey, hello?"

"Where are we going? Let. Me. Out!" Tank screamed. Suddenly, he pried the doors open, sending the elevator to a slamming halt. The lights sparked and turned off, and Maxy Max and Tank hopped out into the lobby.

Before either Gibby or Theodore could react, the doors slammed shut, leaving them in total darkness.

"Oh my god," Theodore stammered. "This has to be a joke. What the fuck."

Gibby turned on the flashlight on his phone and moved it around until he found the elevator buttons. He hurriedly pressed the emergency button ten times, before sitting down in defeat.

"That better have worked," Theodore said.

Gibby shrugged. "Either it did, or it didn't, someone will have to notice the elevator is broken eventually."

Just as the two were beginning to lose hope of ever being found, a distant shout was heard from way above.

"Oh, come on!" It was Marianne.

A loud bang followed, and the lights suddenly turned on.

"Hey! She fixed them!" Gibby smiled, getting to his feet. He pressed the emergency button once more, and a ding sounded. "The electricity is working again!"

Now, they could hear the shouting of workers on the other side of the door, presumably working to fix it.

"It's just like old times," Theodore smiled from on the floor.

"Huh?" Gibby looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "What old times?" He sat down beside Theodore, listening to the workers do whatever they were doing.

"Back when we were trapped in the cell," Theodore explained. "At the ISIS base."

"Ohh," Gibby nodded. "Not something to reminisce on, really."

Theodore frowned. "I know. I miss our squadron. Who was that one guy you were friends with?"

"Nickster. Nickster Mackster." Gibby sighed. "He was my best friend."

Theodore nodded. "My agent was in the squadron too. It sucks that they all died. Sometimes I wonder why we made it out."

"Me too." Gibby agreed. The mood was getting too somber. "Probably to keep an eye on these new idiots."

This earned a laugh from Theodore. "They're lovable idiots at least. Especially Marianne, huh?"

Gibby shot him a glare. "Hey. I don't know what happened there. Besides, even if I did feel anything, she's lesbian and... kinda killed Mitch."

The somber mood returned once more.

"Hey, if we ever get out of here, we'll still be friends, right?" Gibby asked.

Theodore narrowed his eyes. "I think we'll get out—"

"Not the elevator," Gibby laughed. "I meant the war."

"Oh." Theodore sat silently for a second. "Yeah, man, of course. I didn't think you even liked me."

"C'mon, you're one of the few sane people here," Gibby smiled. "Tell you what, when this all ends, we're going out for beers on me."

Gibby held out his hand and Theodore shook it. "Deal. Although, I'm really rich, so—"

"Don't ruin it," Gibby cut him off.