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Baxter was on his way back to his room when he found Niffty off to the side in the hallway. She was crouched over facing the wall, muttering to herself. Figuring that she was doing something unspeakable to an unfortunate cockroach, Baxter went in for a closer look; who knew what principles of biotechnology could germinate from Niffty’s particular brand of ultra violence? “Hmm?” Baxter looked over Niffty’s shoulder and saw nothing at all, not even a speck of dirt that stubbornly refused to go away like a spot of blood on your gloves. Surely there was still dirt elsewhere in the hotel for Niffty to take care of. “Just what are you doing down there?”
“Thinking.” Niffty said in a rapid shot from the mouth.
“Thinking.” Baxter repeated back to her. She nodded. “And just what are you thinking about, in this random spot in the hallway.”
“Can’t tell you.” Niffty. “Can you go do a science thing in your lab for a while?”
Baxter frowned. This was an outrage; they were best friends, bosom chums, collaborators even. “And why exactly can’t you tell me Niffty?”
She looked back over her shoulder at him and rolled her singular up to the back of her skull. “Because its about you dingbutt, so I don’t want you picking the answer!”
“Me???” Baxter drew his arm across his chest. “Is that all? Well, whatever you’re trying to figure out in regards to me, it surely won’t make any sort of difference. I will leave you to your devices.” Baxter took a step away. “Definitely won’t be around the corner trying to listen in on you. Because I’m not the sort who concerns himself with what his friends are thinking about him. Obviously not.” Baxter took another step away. “So don’t be concerned about thinking out loud, because I won’t be hearing any of it.” Baxter then zipped back around the corner and stood there, hand to his ear. “Fuck. Why is she not rambling out loud about whatever incessant prattle goes through her head now of all times?” Then Baxter had an idea of how to get to the bottom of this.
“No, this is stupid and I do not have to do this.” Husk said to Baxter as the little fish sinner tried to shove him around. It was not very effective.
“I will not stop trying until you do and I am a very stubborn mad scientist.” Baxter stopped to catch his breath. “Fine. But if Niffty starts leaving severed cockroach heads in my pillow, you’re not going to like what I’m going to do to your bedsheets.”
“You wouldn’t dare re-tuck them at 37 degree angles.” Baxter hissed.
“Not what I was going for, but sure.” Husk smiled sardonically. He then went to the spot where Niffty was still mumbling to herself. “Hello there Niffty. Done with work already?”
“I guess. Probably.” Niffty turned and laid herself against the wall. “A funny thought got in my head and I can’t figure it out.”
“Maybe I could help you?” Husk said. “We are kind of stuck together here at the hotel, may as well help each other out where we can.” Husk grumbled at talking like this when he wasn’t behind the bar counter.
“Hmm...okay!” Niffty perked right up on her tippy toes...if she had toes. Husk didn’t know and wasn’t all that interested in finding out. “I’m trying to figure out if Baxter being a Mad Scientist makes him a Bad Boy or not.”
“Excuse me?” Husk said.
“Sure Sir Pentious didn’t pan out but he was...you know. And besides, between you and me, I think I would have had to fight Cherri Bomb over him anyway and that’s not very ladylike.”
“And you wouldn’t be caught doing anything unladylike.”
“Exactly!” Niffty punctuated by stabbing a roach that had emerged from a crack in the wall. The blood splattered onto her hand. “But just because one Mad Scientist wasn’t a real Bad Boy doesn’t mean they’ll all be disappointments. Even if they don’t look like the ones you’d see on the covers of those novels.” Niffty giggled manically at the memories of her old human life.
“Uh huh.” Husk’s smile grew on him. “Well, you keep thinking about that. I’m sure you’ll figure something out; you’re a sharp cookie.”
“Yes I am.” Niffty threw such a cookie at a rat, impaling it through the heart.
Husk went back to Baxter to report his findings.
“That’s it?” Baxter arched his eyes. “That hardly seems worth contemplating at all. So what if I’m a bad boy or not? What difference could that make?”
“Weren’t you paying attention to what I said?” Husk put his hand on Baxter’s shoulder. “Our Niffty has a thing for Bad Boys. As in she’s deciding whether or not to pursue you.” Husk rubbed it in, then lifted his hand off.
“Oh.” Baxter’s eyes darted. “I’m going to go to my room now. I need to do some...thinking.”
“You do that.” Husk said, glad to be free from this nonsense. He wasn’t some matchmaker, especially not for the resident gremlins of the Hotel. Let them figure out if they even want to try on their own time; he needed to go brood over Angel for completely unrelated reasons.