Some Like it Cold Chapter 6
ROMM 413
Ford, holding Sugar by the hand, comes running down the corridor from the elevator. He flings open the door of 413, pulls Sugar inside, and then stops breathlessly, as they look around what appears to be an empty room. “Johanna …”
Sugar gasps for breath, still grinning ear to ear, “I guess she's not in here.”
“That's funny. Johanna …” he looks around with a slight mocking smile, as he knows John isn’t here. He sees Johanna’s dress on a hanger and gets a smug look on his face. “can't imagine where she can be.”
“Well, I'll come back later,” Sugar replies, a bit disappointed that Johanna isn’t there for her to share her good news.
Ford is too excited of seeing John get his comeuppance that he won’t let this chance fly by without a fight. “No, no, Sugar - wait. I have a feeling she's going to show up any minute.” He gently pulls Sugar so they’re both sitting on the bed with a front view of both the window and the door.
Sugar is relieved to be sitting and chuckles as she’s happy. “Believe it or not - Johanna predicted the whole thing.”
Ford places on a fake smile, wondering how long he has to wait for John to make his appearance and get caught out. “Yeah. This is one for Ripley.”
Sugar stretches, and is anxious to share her good fortune, and wonders where her other new best friend is, “Do you suppose she went out shopping?”
Ford can’t hide his smug smile as he gets up from the bed and goes to the front door, “That's it. Something tells me she's going to walk through that door in a whole new outfit,” he tells her and opens the door to peer out, expecting John to show up in the yachting outfit. At the same time through the partly open door of the bathroom, comes Johanna’s voice, singing Running Wild, that they practiced on the train in from Chicago.
Ford does a double-take. Sugar starts toward the bathroom door and opens it. Ford follows her, incredulously. In the bathroom, John with his wig on, is lying languidly in the tub taking a bubble-bath, up to his neck in white foam, and Ford is flabbergasted at how he got there.
“Johanna !” Sugar grins.
John plays startled, “Oh, I didn't hear you come in.”
Ford looks back toward the windows, trying to figure out how John got in, much less beat them to the hotel. He looks back, puzzled as all get out.
Sugar is practically bouncing on her feet. “The most wonderful thing happened…”
“What?” Johanna asks, playing clueless very well.
“Guess,” Sugar tells her, the excitement radiating off her.
John thinks about it a moment, “They repealed Prohibition?” he asks, playing alone and finding enjoyment in Ford’s expressions that is happening behind Sugar’s back.
“Oh, come on - you can do better than that,” Ford tells him, more than ready to smack John, but not willing to blow their cover himself.
Sugar, oblivious to the exchange between Ford and Sheppard kneels down next to Johanna, and beams. “I met one of them.”
“One of whom?” John asks, still playing clueless in his female voice.
“Shell Oil, Junior. He's got millions - he's got glasses - and he's got a yacht,” Sugar tells her, she’s so excited, she’s practically floating on air as she gets up to her feet.
John beams in happiness, for that’s what’s expected of Johanna, “You don't say!”
Ford is far from happy, as his plans to get John to pay for his trickery has failed miserably. He’s also figured out how John could possibly beat them back to the hotel. “He's not only got a yacht, he's got a bicycle.”
John glares at his best friend, “Teyla,” he says warningly, then looks at Sugar with encouragement, “Go on, tell me all about him.”
Sugar settles herself again on the side of the tub, “Well, he's young and handsome and a bachelor - and he's a real gentleman - not one of these grabbers.”
John sees this at a good time to offer some advice to advance his cause. “Maybe you'd better go after him - if you don't want to lose him.”
Sugar looks determined, “Oh, I'm not going to let this one get away. He's so cute - collects shells.”
John arches a brow, finding this amusing, “Shells? Whatever for?”
Ford is fuming that John is getting away with this and is barely managing to keep from losing his temper, “You know - the old shell game.”
John has had enough of Aiden. The man lost, he should accept it and move on, and that was how the game was played after all. “Teyla, you're bothering us.”
Sugar, still oblivious to the tension between her new friends, continues. “Anyway, you're going to meet him tonight.”
John looks a bit puzzled for he was sure he didn’t promise anything of the sort…did he? “I am?”
“Because he said he's coming to hear us play - maybe,” Sugar says, some hope falling in her eyes with a light sigh upon her lips.
Ford jumps for joy inside, seeing John squirm at the predicament he’s in. “What do you mean, maybe? I saw the way he looked at you. He'll be there for sure.”
“I hope so,” Sugar tells Teyla, her eyes lighting up with glee.
Ford is no longer angry, but very amused as he knows John can’t be in two places at once, no matter how good a manipulator the SOB has turned out to be over the last year or so. “What do you think, Johanna? What does it say in your crystal ball?”
John glares at him. Meanwhile, Dolores, one of the girls from the band has come into the room in her wet bathing suit and carrying a dripping rubber horse. She sticks her head into the bathroom. “Hey, Sugar, you got the key? I'm locked out and I'm making a puddle in the hall.”
Sugar gives an apologetic smile to her roommate, then turns to John and Ford, “See you on the bandstand, girls.” She follows Dolores out, closing the door.
John and Ford are alone now. The atmosphere is tense. They look at each other steely-eyed. After a long moment of staring each other down, John breaks the silence, his anger clear. “Wise guy, huh? Trying to louse me up…”
Ford is also furious, “And what are you trying to do to poor Sugar? Putting on that millionaire act - and that phony accent …” he says in a poor Cary Grant accent before continuing, “Nobody talks like that! I've seen you pull some low tricks on dames over the last year - but this is the trickiest and the lowest and the meanest…” His words trail off as he sees John rise slowly out of the tub.
The mystery of John’s quick change is now solved - he didn't change at all. John is fully dressed in Bienstock's outfit, and is clutching the yachting cap, as he emerges from the bathtub, covered with suds; he looks like some monster, half man half woman. John slowly begins to advance on Ford menacingly.
“I'm not scared of you,” Ford tells John, then takes a couple of steps back as John is still advancing on him. “I may be small, but I'm wiry,” Ford tells him as he takes a few more steps back. “When I'm aroused, I'm a tiger!” By this time he is up against the wall.
John still closing in on him, Ford decides to change tactics. “Don't look at me like that, John - I didn't mean any harm - it was just a little joke - don't worry - I'll press the suit myself,” he says, as he wipes some of the suds off, in pretense of smoothing out the wrinkles in the damp suite.
John takes another menacing step closer as Ford is literally saved by the bell; that of the phone ringing. “Telephone…” Ford says, hoping to distract John and his temper from colliding on his body.
John ignores the first ring and is practically in Ford’s face when it rings again. “You better answer the phone…” Ford advices, his voice sounding close to a prayer.
John slams the sopping cap on Ford's head, wishing it was more like his fist in his face. As Ford coughs and splutters, John picks up the ringing phone. “Hello…” John says then remembers he is a girl or in a girls room and pitches his voice higher. “Hello - yes, this is 413 - ship-to-shore? - all right, I'll take it.”
“Hello, Teyla? It's that naughty boy again - you know, Osgood - in the elevator - you slapped my face? Who is this?”
John is on the phone. Through the open door of the bathroom he can see Ford wiping his face from the suds he delivered moments before. Not really in the mood, John frowns, “This is her roommate. Teyla can't talk right now. Is it anything urgent?”
Osgood is a bit disappointed not to have his exotic bird on the phone, but carries on like a trooper. “Well, it is to me. Will you give her a message? I'd like her to have a little supper with me on my yacht after the show tonight.”
John nods as if he’s actually going to deliver the message, knowing he wasn’t going to say a word about it since it was a ridiculous idea; Ford going out with some guy. “Got it. Supper - yacht - after the show - I'll tell her,” he says, then it strikes him like lighting. “Your yacht?”
Osgood is smiling ear to ear, feeling his date tonight is a shoe-in. “The New Caledonia. That's the name of it. The Old Caledonia went down during a wild party off CapeHatteras. But tell her not to worry - this is going to be a quiet little midnight snack - just the two of us.”
John’s brain starts sparking with a devious idea, but needs more information, “Just the two of you? What about the crew?”
Osgood, oblivious to what is going on in the head of the person he’s speaking with, volunteers the information with ease. “Oh, that's all taken care of. I'm giving them shore leave. We'll have a little cold pheasant - and champagne - and I checked with the Coast Guard - there'll be a full moon tonight - oh, and tell her I got a new batch of Rudy Vallee records…”
John is beaming as his idea of what to do for tonight crystallizes in his head. “That's good thinking. Teyla's a push-over for him,” wanting to encourage the man further in his pursuit of his roommate.
Ford comes up behind John, wiping his regular hair still, wondering what is going on. “I'm a push-over for whom? What is it? Who's on the phone?” he asks in his regular voice, not thinking anyone can hear him.
John shushes him before continuing his conversation with Osgood. “Yes, Mr. Fielding - you'll pick her up after the show in your motorboat - goodbye - what's that you said? Oh - zowie! I'll give her the message.” John hangs up and he looks like he won the Irish Sweepstakes.
Ford is now really puzzled. “What message? What motorboat?”
John turns his charming smile on his best friend, “You got it made, kid. Fielding wants you to have a little cold pheasant with him on his yacht …”
Ford look offended. “Oh, he does!”
John looks very happy and a bit dreamy as he speaks, “Just the three of you on that great big boat - you and him and Rudy Vallee.” It takes all he’s got not to bust out laughing.
Ford looks furious at such an idea, “Fat chance! You call him right back and tell him I'm not going.”
John chuckles and gives Ford a back handed pat on the chest, “Of course, you're not. I'm going.”
Ford’s eyes grow wide with disbelief, “You're going to be on the boat with that dirty old man?”
John shakes his head at Adien, wondering if he’ll ever catch a clue, “No. I'm going to be on that boat with Sugar.”
Ford looks skeptical, “And where's he going to be?
John grins mischievously at Ford, “He's going to be ashore with you.”
“With ME?”
John nods, “That’s right.”
Finally the other shoe drops and Adien Ford gets the full picture. “Oh, no! Not tonight, Johanna!”
But the look on John’s face shows, that Ford really doesn’t stand a chance of getting out of this and they both know it.
***************
HOTEL BALLROOM - Night.
Rodney is looking very dashing in his white slacks and dark jacket as he wanders in late, the performance already started. He sees someone waving to him and he takes a seat next to Osgood Fielding III. “I’m surprised to see you here tonight,” Osgood grins, not at all taken back by Rodney’s regular scowl.
“I wanted to see if something was…” Rodney began, but his eyes having drifted up to the bandstand, takes in the sight of not only Sugar singing, but all the other woman performing behind her. It’s the two woman that are NOT blond that stand out, more than they realize. “Oh my,” he grins, for he recognizes Teyla and with some careful study, realizes that the sax player is ‘Shell Junior’ in drag.
“Aren’t they splendid,” Osgood says, his eyes twinkling, then looks over at Rodney, “I thought you went into more…exotic tastes,” he asked.
Rodney grins slightly, “I do, but you have to admit, that is…quiet a sight,” he says, his eyes taking in the dark haired woman, who he knows makes a much more sexy man.
“Well, in case you’ve changed your tastes, stay away from the bull fiddle, she’s ALL mine,” Osgood gleams with lust and joy.
Rodney arches a brow at Osgood, for he knows the man’s taste and this didn’t fall under his usual style, then the word ‘she’ rings in his mind and he grins. “Oh…don’t worry, you know I have a weakness for…Saxophone players,” he chuckles. “But, don’t you think, she’s a…bit…big, for a…girl?” Rodney asks, wondering if he should let Osgood in on the truth or not.
“She’s big and sassy, just the way I like them,” Osgood vibrates with passion, his eyes locked on Teyla as she plays. “Look at how she handles that fiddle, zowie!”
Rodney decides to let it go, besides, this too could be amusing. “Sounds like your smitten…again.”
“Yes, and after the show, I plan to be a whole lot more…” he looks at Rodney knowingly. “We’re going to be having a midnight ‘snack’ on my yacht,” Osgood tells him in a knowing whisper and gives Rodney a wink.
Rodney isn’t one prone to smiling a lot, but this evening was proving more and more entertaining than he imagined. “Oh, she…agree to this?” he asked.
“Well, her roommate said Teyla, that’s the sexy bull fiddle,” he pointed out, “Is a sucker for Rudy Vallee records…” Osgood’s eyes grow wide as he sees Teyla/Ford smack the bull fiddle around. “Zowie!”
Rodney stops smiling as his brain goes into overtime. He eyes the bandstand and sees the sax player is eyeing Sugar, the main singer like a starving man faced with a feast. Rodney still didn’t understand why someone as good looking as him would need to play such games. Then he recalled the game and suddenly insight sparked his brain. “I have a feeling you’re going to be spending your evening ashore,” Rodney said knowingly.
“Oh no, I’ve got it all planned,” Osgood said, not going to let Rodney’s pessimistic nature get the best of him tonight.
“I’d even go so far as to wager on it,” Rodney grinned knowingly.
Osgood, turned his eyes from the band stand and met Rodney’s knowing look with one of his own. “You’re on. Same as always?” he asked.
“Done,” Rodney agreed. “But…you need to talk with during the intermission, agreed?”
“Agreed,” Osgood said, feeling this bet was in the bag.
*************
HOTEL BALLROOM - (Later that night.)
It's a good sized nightclub of the period, with about 200 guests in formal dress - evening gowns, white dinner jackets - at the tables and on the dance floor. A revolving globe, with a mirrored surface, throws patterns of light and shadow on the dancers. On the bandstand, Sugar, backed by the rest of the orchestra, is singing. The girls in the band, John and Ford among them, wear uniform evening gowns and long earrings. Sugar and Sue wear distinctive gowns, Sugar’s is a bit more revealing then any of them.
Sugar's song is "I Want To Be Loved By You" - which she belts across in the style of the Twenties, complete with boop-boop-pa-doo trimmings. As she sings, she scans the room for her bespectacled Prince Charming, but there is no sign of him - naturally, since he is playing the saxophone behind her.
In back of John is Ford, thumping the bass grimly. He looks off, sees Osgood Fielding the Third, in a white mess jacket, sitting at a table with another man that sort of looks familiar, wearing a black suit jacket and white slacks. Catching Ford's eye, he waves exuberantly, his face beaming with amorous anticipation, though still probably a bit put out having been told during the break they wouldn’t be using his yacht as she gets sea sick easily.
On the bandstand, Ford looks away haughtily. “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” he grumbles under his breath.
“Teyla - your boy friend is waving at you,” John teases, then notices the man sitting with Osgood and finds it hard to breath for a moment, but is snapped out of it, when he hears Aiden’s reply.
“You can both go take a flying jump.”
John shakes his head and refocuses on his goal for this evening, and men with electric blue eyes was not apart of it. “Remember - he's your date for tonight. So smile.”
Ford smiles feebly, since he promised John he’d go through this in order not to have his teeth handed to him on a platter for the stunt he played earlier, plus John made him feel guilty. It was an unwritten rule between them, that one didn’t interfere with the play of the girl, by telling the girl, so he was bound, lock stock and barrel.
John sees the feeble attempt, “Come on, you can do better than that. Give him teeth - the whole personality.”
Ford gave the huge smile and kept it there as he spoke, “Why do I let you talk me into these things? Why?”
John can feel Ford’s resolve wavering, “Because we're pals - buddies - the two musketeers.”
Ford loses the smile and glares at John, “Don't give me the musketeers! How'm I going to keep the guy ashore? He didn’t seem to buy the seasick routine during intermission.”
“I don’t know, tell him you rather play miniature golf with him,” John suggests.
Ford throws Osgood another smile and a little wave, before sneering at John, “Oh, no. I'm not getting caught in a miniature sand trap with that guy.”
The fresh young Bellhop we saw earlier comes up beside the bandstand, carrying a large wicker basket full of flowers, and leers at John. “Which of you dolls is Teyla?”
“Bull fiddle,” John replies and goes back to playing his part so Sweet Sue doesn’t notice their conversation, during Sugar’s performance. The Bellhop hands the basket to Ford, nods off toward Osgood's table.
“It's from Satchel Mouth at Table Seven,” the Bellhop tells her, then breaks off one of the flowers and hands it to John, “This is from me to you, doll,” he leers.
“Beat it Buster,” John growls, though keeps his voice feminine.
Bellhop doesn’t look put off, “Never mind leaving your door open - I got a passkey.” He winks and moves off.
John looks after him contemptuously, then turns to Ford, picks up the basket of flowers. “What are you doing with my flowers?”
“I'm just borrowing them. You'll get them back tomorrow,” he lies easily. He hands Ford the single flower, then looks around, fishes a small envelope out of his undergarment, and slips it into the basket just in time for Sugar to finish her number and return to her seat, while Sweet Sue leads the orchestra into the signature music of her band.
Sugar looks disappointed as she sits. “I guess he's not going to show up - it's give minutes to one - you suppose he forgot?”
John as Johanna gives a little shrug, “Well, you know how those millionaires are.” Then he points at the basket of flowers. “These came for you.”
Sugar looks surprised to see the beautiful basket full of yellow flowers, “For me?” she gasps quietly, so not to attract Sweet Sue’s attention. She sees the envelope and opens it, “It’s Shell Oil,” she gasps, holding the envelope to her chest.
“No!” Ford replies sarcastically, not really liking how John is playing sugar. Only their long time friendship keeping him from spilling the beans to her.
Sugar doesn’t catch the sarcasm and beams back at Teyla, “Yes. He wants me to have supper with him - on his yacht - he's going to pick me up at the pier.
“No!” Ford says again in the same tone.
“Yes,” Sugar replies, still not hearing the undertone of Teyla’s voice, but John does.
“You heard her - yes,” he says, glaring at Ford to shut his yap.
Sugar is bubbling over with excitement. “Oh, Johanna - just imagine - me, Sugar Kowalczyk, from Sandusky, Ohio, on a millionaire's yacht. If my mother could only see me now…”
Ford looks over at Osgood who is now sitting alone, the other man having departed and is feeling ill. “I hope my grandmother never finds out,” he says, hoping his mother in heaven is busy with the bowling league or something and isn’t seeing this either.
At his table, Osgood, catching Ford's look, blows kisses to him.
Ford just bows his head, “Oh boy,” he mutters to himself.
On the bandstand, Sue turns to the audience for her signature spiel. “That's it for tonight, folks. This is Sweet Sue, saying good night, and reminding all you daddies out there - every girl in my band is a virtuoso - and I intend to keep it that way!”
Behind her, Sugar picks up her ukulele and the basket of flowers, tiptoes off the stand. John waves after her, wishing her luck. Sugar hurries toward the staircase, passing
Bienstock, who is planted near the reservation desk. As Sue cuts off the music John frantically packs up his saxophone, and then he leaps off the bandstand, and dashes past the bewildered Bienstock, starting up the stairs two at a time, since he’s got a lot to do and little time to do it in. John barges into his room, drops the saxophone case, and locks the door. Then he darts into the bathroom, wriggling out of his dress. In the flash of speed due to desperation, John, is quickly stripped of his female garb and has on the shirt and slacks. He slips into Bienstock's coat, and puts on the yachting cap, then his shoes. Even to a captain he would be a captain now, except for one thing - in his haste, he has neglected to take off his earrings. He opens a window, steps out onto the balcony. Soon,
John moves along the balcony, climbs over the railing, and starts to shimmy down a post where there is a bicycle waiting for him, as he arranged earlier. This gives him a good lead on Sugar who is barely at the door of the hotel as John speeds off to the pier.
Standing under a tree in front of the hotel are Osgood and Ford. Ford is in his evening gown and is holding a flower in his hand, trying to sway Osgood once more from the dinner on the yacht idea.
“But it's such a waste - a full moon - an empty yacht …” Osgood tries again, not caring to lose a bet to Rodney McKay, but also, to lose such an opportunity with such an exotic woman.
“I'll throw up!” Ford tells him again, hoping this will end this part of this discussion.
Osgood pouts for a second, then gets a good idea and smiles brightly at Teyla, “Well, then, why don't we go dancing? I know a little road-house, down the coast…”
Just then, John comes whizzing past them on his bicycle. Ford looks after him, open-mouthed. “Well, I'll be - ! He does have a bicycle.”
“Who?” Osgood asks, wondering if he’s missed something important.
Catching himself, Ford returns his full attention to his ‘date’ for tonight. “About that roadhouse…?”
Osgood practically vibrates under Teyla’s smile, “They got a Cuban band that's the berries. Why don't we go there - blindfold the orchestra - and tango till dawn?”
Ford was told to stay out all night, and he did enjoy dancing, so saw no reason why not enjoy it. “You know something, Mr. Fielding? You're dynamite!” he grinned at Osgood.
Osgood chuckled, “You're a pretty hot little firecracker yourself.” He links his arm through Ford's, leads him down the path, determined to make this a night Teyla will never forget.
****End of Chapter six****