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Rachel hasn't really been brave enough to venture out of her room until now. She's managed to get Danny to bring her as much food as she's been able to keep down as she suffered through the gross and completely undignified detox process which doesn't even seem to be over yet but enough is enough. She looks like shit and she needs real food and she needs to see for herself, through clear eyes, that she's really stuck on some kind of magic hotel grounds.

She pulls on one of his oversized t-shirts he'd lent her and a pair of boxers and slips out the door, wondering where he is. He keeps insisting he goes back to Hawaii, where he lives in between being at the magic hotel, but it all sounds like some kind of unending acid trip. Hell, maybe she's dead and since she was really bad, this is her purgatory.

If it is, at least it has a salon. She wanders, wide eyed through the hallways as the place gets more and more grand. She's suddenly and painfully aware that she's not wearing makeup, her messy hair is piled in a bun and she's wearing a crazy male cop's clothes. She wraps her arms around her middle, the cash Danny'd given her clutched tight in her fist as she tries to decide where to start. This was stupid, she should just go back to the room.

She spins on her heel, eyes starting to water and promptly slams into someone, knocking her on her ass. Fan-freaking-tastic.

Open to all! This is Rachel Gatina's debut. She's wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. Visible track marks on her arms. She just slammed into her pup. She's very slight and about 5'5"

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Frannie staggered backwards a few steps when the other woman body-checked her in the hallway. She was dazed for a second, then shook her head and looked down with a sheepish sort of smile, hand on the rounded bump and glad she hadn't gone down as well.

"Are you all right?" she asked and held a hand out to her.

"Jesus Christ," Rachel breathes, waving a hand as she shoves herself up. "Did I like, flatten the baby or something? Do you need a doctor because I don't know shit about that."

That had Frannie laughing. "No, you didn't flatten anything. You got the side more than the front. Besides, this kid's been through worse." In her mind she heard the explosion, but she closed it off. "You're the one that hit the deck. Are you all right?"

"Fine," she murmurs, tugging at her sleeves. "Just...detoxing, I guess. I just got here a few days ago. First time out of the room. It's like, a giant hotel, yeah? Are you stuck here, too?"

"It's bigger than hotels I'm used to, but I think the size is kind of relative considering where the doors here open into," Frannie replied, "I've found one door that goes back to where I'm from, to the bedroom in the house I grew up in. It's the one in the lobby that's nailed shut."

She frowned a little when the one word kept bouncing through her mind, already looking at her throat for signs of swelling. "Detox? Were you exposed to...something?"

"No," she murmurs, suddenly frozen at the idea of winding up back at home, with her damn parents. God knows where. "What? Sorry, no. No exposure. Like, drugs. Sorry, it's not like, contagious. Christ, I'm Rachel. I'm a mess."

"No more of a mess than I am," Frannie smiled, waving a hand at the growing bump. "I'm Fran, Rachel. It's nice to meet you. I didn't mean to sound completely dense, but where I'm from...or maybe it's when...well, I'm not sure what you mean by drugs. Like cocaine?"

She'd read the rags at the market, she knew that some rock stars and movie stars got caught up in that kind of thing, but she didn't think anyone else did. She'd always considered it a fame kind of thing.

"Yeah, among others," she snorts, wrapping her arms around her middle. "Pregnant is different than a mess. So, what do we do, then? If we can't leave, you just sleep here and eat here?"

"Pretty much," Fran smiled, "though some can go back and forth or something like it, but yes. The front desk gave me a room and there's a sort of cafeteria with food but anything more than basic stuff, the bar and the restaurant, you need money for. Some people have money with them, or get it from home. I work in the shop as a cashier. I wanted to work in the garden but," with a laugh, she indicated her belly, "not really a good idea right now."

Chloe holds up her hands. She's a little out of it today, still thinking about all the time that she missed between her time and Clark's and she's not exactly expecting someone to come barreling into her from around the corner.

"Whoa, oops. We need a traffic light or something, am I right?" She offers a hand down to the other girl, wanting to help her up.

Rachel blinks, pausing a moment before reaching a hand up and letting herself be pulled up. "I wouldn't know," she huffs, looking all around before settling back on the girl she smacked into.

"Just left the room for the first time. I'm kind of freaking the fuck out. I don't even have clothes. Is this really a magic hotel?"

"All signs point to yes," Chloe says, completely sympathetic to that particular issue.

"We're not the exact same size or anything but I bet I have something you can borrow temporarily? I don't mind."

"Thanks but there's a guy, he said he's going to bring me like, his ex wife's shit or something. He's a cop, I think. He's been detoxing me. It's a big fucking mess," she says with a roll of her eyes. "Sorry, by the way. I'm Rachel. I'm new."

"Chloe," she offers back, not sure what to say that doesn't seem like pity - which is the last thing she would want if the situation was reversed.

"A cop? Do you mean Danny, maybe? Or do we have another cop around here?"