She'll Be Coming With Us

Chapter One: Down The Rabbit Hole

Chapter content warnings: censored cussing, canon events, leg pain, some condescension/light misogyny/that one sleazy guy hitting on her at the bar, Claudia's world imploding.

Word count: 6,292

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13:02 / 1:02 p.m.

The Eddington Hotel was not what Claudia had expected.

The building was made of brick and three stories tall, and its shape was vaguely reminiscent of an 18th-century estate home. Inside, it was rather homey, and the lobby went straight into a bar. Opposite was a long row of comfortable booths, all wood and dark leatherette, with a fish tank on one end and a piano on the other. An odd touch, in her opinion, but not unwelcome. A man was sitting at the piano and playing a lovely tune that she didn't recognize.

Having arrived just after noon, Claudia booked a room and ordered a plate of bangers and mash. She had packed a light bag, which she left in her room, and after she freshened up she went back downstairs. She selected a booth in the middle and sat facing the door, and she waited.

She ate her lunch when it came- surprisingly good for a hotel meal- and left a generous tip, then headed back to her room to brush her teeth (sausage breath is unprofessional). On her way, she caught sight of a tall blond man, clad in an olive drab woolen military jacket, speaking to the barman. She recognized him as one Professor Nick Cutter, a paleontologist who lectured at one of London's universities. He would be the perfect person to ask to clear up this whole mess. She quickened her step, finishing her errand speedily, but when she returned the professor was nowhere to be seen. So she returned to her booth and sat down, intending to remain until he returned.

Into the hotel strode a man- average in looks, wearing a cheap suit and carrying a sorry excuse for a briefcase. His gait was a cocky swagger that he probably thought made him a chick magnet but was more likely to be chick repellent, if the way she instinctually cringed was anything to go by.

Definitely not Professor Cutter.

She averted her gaze, but it was too late- the random man's gaze was already firmly affixed to her. He sauntered over nauseatingly, flashing her a terrible smile. "Hey, doll." He greeted. Her stomach turned at his tone. "This seat taken?"

"I'm waiting for someone." She returned politely.

He was apparently incapable of taking a hint, and promptly slid into the booth opposite her. The briefcase was plonked down beside him and he gave her what he probably thought was a charming smile. "I'm Gareth. What's your name, gorgeous?"

She did not answer.

"Playing hard to get, huh? That's alright. I bet I can guess your name." He boasted.

She immediately tuned him out.

Maintaining a neutral expression that he was too dull to realize was one of boredom and disregard, Claudia searched her mind for an excuse to escape.

Fortunately, it came a few minutes later. The professor returned and sat down, and a few moments later, he was poured a glass of something amber and probably strong enough to sterilize a wound. (She wondered if it would also sterilize... Gary? Garth? Whatever his name was.) Hope flared in her chest. She quickly formulated a coherent excuse in her head, chocolate eyes trained on the professor's back.

"...especially ones as pretty as yours. I must admit though, I've never seen you around here myself, and uh, hey, why don't we get a drink afterwards?"

"Excuse me." She spoke, interrupting his drivel and grabbing her leather bag from beside her. "My boyfriend just got here."

Determinedly, she moved with a faux nonchalance and a surprisingly real enthusiasm toward the professor and prayed that he would play along with the charade and not deem her unprofessional or fail to take her seriously. The professor took out a leather wallet and flipped it open, seeming to inspect the photograph inside.