Miles pulled up in front of Jensen's hotel and looked around. "Where do you think parking is?"

            "You don't know?" Jensen asked. "Miles Fox? Direction master of Hollywood and surrounding areas? He doesn't know where something is?"

"Oh, come on, Rhodes." Miles' grin betrayed his fake annoyance.

            Jensen cupped her hands around her mouth. "Call the presses! Miles Fox doesn't know where something is! Hollywood must know!"

            Miles grabbed Jensen's hands and pulled them away from her face. He erupted in laughter. "You can't tell the world my secrets!"

            "There's one place in all of Hollywood that Miles Walker doesn't know the location of! This is hot news!"

            "Go check into your room," Miles said, kissing the back of her hands. "I'll find parking."

            "If you can!" Jensen said. Her voice had an edge of song to it. "Because you don't know where it is!"

            "Okay, Broadway, ease up." Miles laughed. "Go get your room."

            "Don't get lost," Jensen teased, grinning. "I'll be right back."

            Miles pressed one last kiss to the back of her hand. "Go."

            Jensen nodded. "I'll be right back."

            "You're terrible at leaving, Rhodes."

            Jensen looked at Miles still holding her hand. "Uh huh."

            Miles let go of her hand. "You got me, Rhodes."

            Jensen let out a small laugh and opened her door. "I'll be right back."

            "Take your time."

            Jensen nodded and hopped out of the Suzuki. Walking through automatic doors, Jensen waited in the short line to check in.

            "Hi, um," Jensen said. "Check in for..."

            Her eyes widened. Could she remember the fake name Lucille had set up for her? It was... No... Or... Couldn't be. She felt her cheeks heat up when she finally remembered.

            "Francis Houseman," Jensen said. "Check in for Francis Houseman."

            The clerk smiled softly as he typed into the computer. "Miss Houseman. Room..." His eyes darted across the screen. "Four-hundred-twelve." Taking a card from a pile, the clerk typed into the computer and scanned the card through a slot in the keyboard. "Don't let it touch your phone, otherwise it may not work. Please let us know if there's anything else we can do for you." He handed the card over the counter.  "Enjoy your stay."

            "Thank you," Jensen said. "Um, also, where's your parking?"

            "Around the back, you can tap your room key to get out for free."

            "Thanks," Jensen said. Again. She began walking out of the lobby to get back in the Suzuki when Miles came strolling in through the doors with her backpack slung over his shoulder and her suitcase rolling behind him.

            A grin was plastered across his face. "Guess I know where everything in Hollywood is now."

            "You might," Jensen said. She held up the room key, pinched in between her fingers. "But you need this to get out without having to pay."

            "I think I can pay," Miles said. "It's fine."

            A woman walked up to the two of them. "Sorry, are you, um, are you Miles Fox?"

            Miles pressed his lips together. "Who?"

            "You just, you look a lot like him. Robert Walker's son."

            "Oh, that guy," Miles said. "Yeah, I get that a lot. I think it's the beard."

            "Sorry to bother you," the woman said. She went to turn but looked at him once more. "If you... if you want privacy, I get that, I just... wanted to say I thought you were really fantastic in Take Me Home. And I don't think it's fair what the press says about you. We all make mistakes. You tried to make it right. Not many people can say that."

            "I..." Miles started, his cheeks reddened slightly. "Thanks. Um... do you want a picture?"

            The woman smiled and shook her head. "I just wanted to tell you that there are people out there rooting for you. Even if it might feel like there aren't."

            Miles smiled softly. "I appreciate that."

            Nodding a goodbye to Miles, then looking at Jensen and doing the same, she walked away. Jensen smiled at Miles when he looked back.

            "So, pros of dating me," Miles said, "you get to see me put my fucking foot in my mouth."

"It wasn't that bad." Jensen let out a small laugh. She tucked her hands into her jacket pocket. "Do you, um..." Jensen looked behind her and looked back to Miles. "Dinner and a movie? On demand and room service? Um..." Jensen closed her eyes to try and find her words. "Do you want to come up to the room and watch a movie or two and order room service?" Jensen let out a breath as she opened her eyes again.

            Miles nodded. "I—yeah—I'd love to. But at some point, I am going to take you out on a real date. Even if I have to hire security to keep Dante Juarez away from us."

            Jensen smiled. "Another day." She held her hand out. "Can I have my suitcase?"

            "I'm going up there with you," Miles said. "It's fine."

            "Are you sure?"

            "Do you think your clothes weigh a lot?"

            "I can... take it," Jensen said. "It's my stuff."

            "Rhodes, it's fine." Miles pointed past Jensen. "Are we taking the elevator or the stairs?"

            "Stairs," Jensen said. "Do you want me to take my suitcase now?"

            "It's fine," Miles said. "Lead the way."

*

The credits were rolling on the first movie Miles and Jensen had watched. They were both laying on her bed, an ugly floral quilt under them. Jensen had tied her hair up when they first got in the room, a way of keeping the airport off her face without having to leave Miles alone in the room.

            "I fucking love heist movies," Miles said, turning over to reach the bedside table and grabbing the room service menu.

            "You're just right in there with crime, aren't you?" Jensen asked. "

            Miles laughed. "Apparently."

            "Are we watching more crime when you get to pick a movie?"

            "Can I please point out—" Miles handed her the menu. "—that you picked the first crime movie?"

            "Ocean's Eleven is a great movie," Jensen said, taking the menu from him. Looking at it, she squinted at the paper before putting it down. She got off the bed so she could dig through her backpack. "Thank you very much."

            "What're you doing?"

            Jensen held up her glasses when she pulled them out of her bag. "That writing is tiny." She put them on and pushed them up her nose. Pursing her lips, Jensen struck a pose. "How do I look?"

            Miles mimed taking pictures, Jensen did a couple different poses while she laughed. "Miss Rhodes! Miss Rhodes, over here! Miss Rhodes, you look stunning—who are you wearing?"

            "That would be the dollar store on Broadway," Jensen said.

            "Magnificent! Beautiful!" Miles smiled as he held out the menu again. From where she was standing, Jensen could just see a bit of the roses on his bicep peeking out from under his shirt sleeve. No Rocky in her sightline, though. It was the first time Jensen had seen it in person.

            Jensen took the menu and flopped onto the bed beside Miles, laying on her stomach. Miles rolled onto his stomach beside her. She opened the small menu like a birthday card, appetizers and mains and desserts all came into view. Her eyes scanned the words.

            Jensen could feel Miles' eyes on her. She turned to look at him and smiled softly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

            "You didn't... you weren't wearing glasses when we went to Hoy's."

            "The font was big enough."

            "They suit you," Miles said. "Very Indiana Rhodes."

            Jensen snorted. "Whatever you say."

            "I wouldn't lie."

Jensen bumped her shoulder against his. "What are you in the mood for?"

            "Rhodes, I gotta tell you this," Miles said, "you're going to find out very quickly that I do not care what's put in front of me and I will eat everything."

            "That sounds like a cop out to make me decide what we're having."

            "Maybe a little bit."

            Jensen laughed. "Burgers?"

            "Works for me."

            "What kind do you want?"

            "I mean," Miles said, "I'm kind of a plain and simple hamburger guy myself."

            "Burgers it is," Jensen said. She reached out for the phone on the table. "I think they have a beyond meat one."

            "Did you just make me decide?" Miles asked as Jensen dialled.

Jensen pressed the phone to her ear and smiled. "Maybe a little bit." She nodded towards the TV. "Pick the next movie. Do you want a coffee or something?"

"We can make coffee," Miles said, looking at the machine above Jensen's mini fridge as he played with the remote to find the movie order menu. He got up and went over to the coffee machine, beginning to press buttons.

            "You know how to use that?" Jensen asked. "Hi, um, could I please get a plain hamburger and a beyond meat burger to room four-twelve?" She paused for a moment before pressing the phone to her chest. "How many fries can you eat?"

            "It wouldn't be the first time I ate a large by myself," Miles said. He started pulling his wallet out of his pocket. "Take my—"

            "Large fries, please," Jensen said quickly. "Please charge it to my room..." Jensen blushed when the man on the phone confirmed her name. "Francis Houseman, yeah." Miles clamped his hand over his mouth and dropped to his knees to muffle his laughter against the edge of the bed. "Fifteen minutes? Sounds perfect. Thank you."

            Miles lifted his head as Jensen hung up the phone. He let out another surge of laughter. "Francis Houseman?"

            "It was the first thing that came into my head when Lucille asked," Jensen said. "Sue me."

            "You're incredible, Baby," Miles said. "Oh man."

            "What's your alias then?" Jensen asked as she fought a smile.

            Miles grinned. "Kevin McCallister."

            Jensen laughed. "And you have the audacity to laugh at me?"

            "I'm laughing with you, Rhodes. Trust me." Miles sat back down beside her before kicking his feet onto the bed. He rolled back onto his stomach. "And I'm paying you back for the burgers."

            "You are not. That—" Jensen poked his arm right in the Rocky Balboa. "—is for the airport parking."

            "Rhodes—"

Jensen cut him off with a small peck on the lips. She was slightly too pleased that she'd managed to catch him off guard. "Not up for debate."

Miles' eyes opened slowly. "Well played."

            "What movie are we watching?" Jensen asked.

            "Only the best movie ever."

            "We're watching Pulp Fiction?"

            Miles stared wide eyed at Jensen. "You think Pulp Fiction is better than Rocky?"

            "I think they both have their merits," Jensen said. "But yes."

            "Sylvester Stallone was on his last shot when he wrote Rocky," Miles said. Passionate enough he could've been standing on a soap box. "And he made producers take a chance on him because he couldn't afford not to. They gave him this tiny little budget and look what he made out of that. Oh my God."

            "That's true."

            "I, um, I probably watched Rocky about a hundred times," Miles said, looking at his hands. "When I was in rehab. Um, both times. I watched it when I felt like relapsing. I know it's dumb. But... but I don't know. It just felt like..."

            "Like you could press the reset button too?" Jensen took his hand softly in hers.

            Miles looked up at Jensen. "Yeah. Something like that. It's... I hate... you know, I can't just snap my fingers and make it magically myself better."

            "Healing isn't binary. There's no code for figuring out how to change things."

            "It feels like there should be."

            "Nothing's ever just perfect, Miles," Jensen said. "And it doesn't have to be."

            "Did you know it's been twenty years since I've read a good article about myself in the tabloids?" Miles asked. "Every one of them is saying I did this or I drank that. Don't get me wrong, Rhodes, I don't do charity work for publicity. But for fucks sake, I donated fifty million dollars to Stardom when I turned twenty-one and all anyone wanted to write about was my second DUI."

            Jensen pressed her lips together. "What's Stardom?"

Miles absentmindedly played with Jensen's fingers while he talked. "It's for kids who want to be actors to help them find jobs and give them free acting lessons if they don't have the money to pay for them. My mom started it with Walker Studios money... about a year before she died. After my first premiere."

            "I'm sorry," Jensen said. "She sounds great from what you've said about her."

            "She was," Miles said. "I wanted to be just like her. Still do." Miles shook his head. "Still fucks me up a little bit that come April I'll be older than she was when she died."

            "Miles—"

            "It's okay," Miles said. "You don't have to be sorry. I'm sorry I just heaved twenty years of bullshit on you when all you did was ask about Rocky."

            "Well," Jensen said, "if it's any consolation, you've got two things going for you."

            "Yeah? What's that?"

            "One, I'll always listen to bullshit. It's one of few things I'm good at."

            "And two?"

            "I'll give you Rocky as the best movie ever."

            Miles smiled. "Really?"

            "It made you smile, so yeah," Jensen said. "Pulp Fiction can take second."

            Miles pressed a kiss to the back of her hands. "Thank you."

            Jensen smiled softly. "Do you want to keep talking about this or do you want to watch the movie? It's okay either way."

"Let's watch," Miles said. "But fair warning, I know almost every word."

Laughing, Jensen said, "I wouldn't expect anything less."

*

[ a.n. ] here's a special update because it's Miles' birthday the day I'm posting this! (April 1, 1986. That's my boy.) if you're reading this in 2020, there's a celebration for Miles on my Instagram (jordaniswriting) where you can ask him or me questions and there are some fun facts and music there as well, come join him!

until next time, I hope you enjoyed!
jordin