Fitzphie One-shots

A Classic Trope

"So, we check in this afternoon and we'll have the whole night to ourselves and the town, then tomorrow morning is when the seminar starts, got it?" He had his phone out, scrolling through the convention schedule.

"Sounds good," I said, pulling suitcases out of the back of the cab and setting them on the pavement for their coordinating owners to pick up.

"Fitz, while you've got your phone out, remind me, what time is call time is," said our blonde haired friend, taking his suitcase from me.

"Hmm... it starts at noon so I suggest we get there by eleven, Keefe," Fitz said, sticking his phone in his pocket and grabbing his suitcase off the sidewalk.

"So, we have the whole night in downtown LA?" I asked him.

"That's right, if Fitz doesn't find some way to give himself work to do, that is," Keefe elbowed Fitz and we all three grabbed our bags and headed into the Hilton.

"I won't if you won't," Fitz told Keefe, "Lets grab some other guys and go out for dinner somewhere?"

"Ok, but Foster has the sleep schedule of a toddler, so we'll have to be back by eight," Keefe snickered.

"Hey!" I protested, shoving Keefe playfully.

"If we're out, she'll stay out, even if she's falling asleep," Fitz teased,

"Says you," I snapped back, "you're always the first one asleep on vacations,"

"So, I'm going to be carrying around both of you tonight?" Keefe asked sarcastically,

I started to respond but Fitz cut me off, "That reminds me, did you ever get the final numbers on the travel costs?"

I leaned around Fitz to look at Keefe, "Apparently I'm just Fitz's walking checkbook," then I looked up at Fitz, "Check your own budget, I've got to worry about whether or not that creep at TSA scammed me or not. That's got to be at least a few hundred dollars if he did."

"Why so number oriented?" Fitz cooed,

"Get a room you two," Keefe groaned.

"Yes, that's the goal," the timing was perfect as we reached the front of the line at the check in desk right as Fitz made his statement. "Yes, hello, I have a room reservation for Vacker,"

The receptionist handed Fitz a room key, "Room 267, here's your key Mr. Vacker,"

"Thank you," Fitz took the key. Keefe stepped up to the counter and Fitz hovered near the hallway entrance waiting for us,

"Room 268, here's your key Mr. Sencen,"

I stepped up to the counter,

"I'm sorry, there's no room under that name,"

"What? Well I'm sorry, there must have been a mistake I made my reservation right alongside with Mr. Vacker and Mr. Sencen,"

"I'm sorry, I only have a reservation for a Keefe Sencen, and one for a Fitz and Sophie Vacker," the receptionist listed,

"Ah, that is my first name but I'm not with Fitz and my last name is, Foster not Vacker,"

"Uhh, it does appear like there was a miscommunication on our end," the receptionist told me after scrolling through something for a little while and then calling over the manager.