2 Broke Girls x 1 Rich Man [TV series 2 Broke Girls ff]

Chapter 41: Passport, honey & abs



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Max's apartment looked like a crime scene. Not a murder scene, unless you count the death of the organization, but more like a robbery in progress. Clothes were strewn across every surface, drawers yanked out, and boxes dumped upside down like a tornado had a grudge against personal belongings.

Caroline stood in the doorway, clutching her neatly packed suitcase to her chest. She watched as Max flung open the fridge, peering into the depths as if her passport might be nestled between a jar of questionable pickles and an expired yogurt. "Max, why would your passport be in the fridge?"

Max straightened, a stray sock hanging from her hair. "I dunno. I put my keys in the freezer once. I thought maybe Past Max was being clever. You know, like a secret hiding spot?"

Caroline's face did a mix of horror and disbelief. "Okay, first, that's not clever—that's chaos. And second, when was the last time you even saw your passport?"

Max tossed a half-empty box of cereal onto the counter. "Uh... I think it was when we thought about running away to Canada after I accidentally sent that drunk text to my ex. You know, the 'I'm outside your window, and I know you're awake' one?"

Caroline cringed. "Oh, right. That was not your finest moment. Did we ever actually pack for Canada, or did you just pass out on the stoop with a half-eaten burrito?"

Max squinted at the ceiling, her lips moving as if doing mental math. "I think it's a bit of both. Wait!" She snapped her fingers. "I had it in that green backpack! The one with the glittery unicorn patch!"

Caroline's eyes lit up with a spark of hope. "Great! Where is it?"

Max's expression dimmed instantly. "Uh... I think I lent that backpack to Sophie when she went to that adult summer camp thing. You know, where they pretend to be woodland creatures for a week?"

Caroline's eye twitched. "Max, please tell me you got it back."

"Define 'got it back.'"

Caroline dropped her suitcase onto the couch and marched over to Max. "Okay, new plan. We search every inch of this place. You check your room, and I'll take the kitchen. And for the love of God, try not to break anything!"

Max saluted. "Yes, ma'am! Operation Passport Hunt is a go!"

[Max's Room]

Max dived into her room, or what could technically be called a room if closets counted. She started with the most logical place: the junk drawer. Every apartment had one, but Max's drawer was a black hole of randomness. She pulled it open, its contents immediately spilling over like a budget version of Pandora's box.

"Let's see," she muttered, sifting through the pile. "Receipts, old concert tickets, a broken kazoo, hey—my fake mustache! I wondered where that went." She slapped the mustache on, turning to the mirror. "Hello, I'm Señor Stache. Have you seen my passport?"

The mirror, as usual, offered no help.

She dug deeper, unearthing a half-used tube of superglue, a tangled mess of earbuds, and a stress ball shaped like a potato. "Ugh, where are you, little blue book of freedom?"

Max crawled under the bed next, pushing aside old magazines and a shoebox labeled "Definitely Not A Drug Stash." She flipped it open and well... more receipts, a half-eaten granola bar, and a rubber chicken.

"Why do I own this?" she asked, giving the chicken a squeeze. It squawked miserably, echoing her frustration.

[Kitchen – Caroline's Side]

Caroline was taking a more methodical approach. She opened each cabinet, organizing as she went. Within minutes, she'd rearranged their sad collection of mismatched Tupperware and thrown out three mystery containers from the fridge.

She paused at the junk drawer (the second one—the kitchen edition). It was a mess of rubber bands, loose change, and an instruction manual for a blender they definitely didn't own.

"Why do we have so many batteries?" she muttered, holding up a Ziploc bag stuffed with every size imaginable.

A muffled voice called from the other room. "Those are for emergencies! And also for... uh, never mind."

Caroline chose not to ask. She moved to the pantry, a narrow cabinet that doubled as storage for anything they didn't know what to do with. She started shifting boxes and bags, her brow furrowing. "Max, why is there a roll of duct tape in with the pasta?"

"It's for emergencies!" Max hollered back. "Or if the noodles try to escape."

Caroline rolled her eyes, pulling out a small cardboard box marked "Important Stuff" in Sharpie. She opened it, only to find it full of old takeout menus and a rock with googly eyes glued on it.

She sighed. "Why am I not surprised?"

[Living Room]

The girls met back in the living room, both looking worse for wear. Max had dust bunnies clinging to her pants, and Caroline had a smear of mystery sauce on her sleeve from the fridge.

"Any luck?" Caroline asked, her voice wavering between hope and resignation.

Max dropped a pile of notebooks onto the coffee table. "Nada. But I did find my middle school diary. Did you know I once wrote an angry poem about pepperoni pizza because it burned my tongue?"

Caroline slumped onto the couch. "We're doomed. You're going to miss your chance to go to Tokyo, and I'll have to tell Alex you couldn't come because you're passport-less and possibly cursed."

"Wait! What do you mean by that? You can't leave me alone with this mess!" Max whined, waving at the disaster zone that was her apartment. "Wait a minute! Don't tell me... Ah! I see now. You are happy, aren't you? Without me, you'll get to enjoy two days with Alex, alone."

Caroline tried to hide her smile because, yeah, that did sound nice. "You are just overthinking things, Max."

"Then, what's up with that smile?" Max asked, pointing at Caroline's face.

Caroline's cheeks turned pink, and she quickly wiped the smile off her face. "What smile? There's no smile. Just... regular face. Very normal. Totally not thinking about spending alone time with a charming billionaire in Tokyo."

Max's eyes widened. "I knew it! You little sneak! You were planning to ditch me and have a rom-com adventure with Moneybags. You were probably going to 'accidentally' trip into his arms while cherry blossoms fell in the background."

Caroline sputtered, clutching a cushion to her chest. "What? No! I mean... okay, yes, maybe I thought about what it would be like to spend some time with Alex. But not like that! Just... professionally."

Max snorted. "Please. You've got the kind of crush that needs its own Pinterest board. Admit it. You want him to frost your cupcake."

Caroline's blush deepened, and she buried her face in the cushion. "I hate you. Why do you always make things weird?"

"Because it's my gift," Max said, leaning back with a smirk. "But don't worry, Blondie. If I find my passport, I promise not to ruin your Hallmark movie moment with Alex. I'll be the quirky sidekick who distracts the villains while you two share a slow-motion kiss in front of a temple."

Caroline peeked over the cushion, her voice small. "You really think he'd be interested? I mean, he's... well, him. And I'm just me." For a moment, it completely slipped out of her mind that Max and Alex had a thing. But she quickly realized noticing Max smirk with a raised eyebrow. "I mean... of course not. He's your boyfriend, and I wouldn't dare do anything to..."

"Oh, stop. It's fine. He's not my boyfriend. He was my friend with benefits, but since you're all sweet and vanilla, we haven't been together for a while. I'm ok with sharing Alex with you, as long as you share him with me. How does that sound?"

Caroline took a few seconds to process Max's words. "Wha-?! Eh? Wait, so, you want me to join you and Alex? What exactly do you mean by that? Are you suggesting a three-way?" She stammered.

Max chuckled at her roommate's expression. "You're such a prude. You need to learn to enjoy life. Relax a bit, Caroline. You can't let society tell you what's right and wrong. Do you want to try it or not? Just imagine, Alex's hot naked body... I will drip honey on his chest... The honey will drip down his chest and you will lick it off his abs... Arggg! God, I'm getting wet just thinking about it!"

Caroline's face turned an impressive shade of red as Max painted an increasingly vivid (and absurd) scenario. Her eyes widened, and her mind betrayed her by conjuring a mental image of Alex, shirtless, with strategically placed honey and...

"Ahh! Stop!" Caroline slapped her hands over her ears. "Nope! Nope! I'm not listening to this! My brain is too fragile for your... your... whatever that was!"

Max leaned back on the couch, arms crossed, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. "Oh, come on, Blondie. You were totally into it. I saw you zone out. You had that 'staring into the middle distance, but actually imagining abs' look."

Caroline shook her head so hard her curls bounced. "I was not! I was just... processing. Processing how insane you are. And how much I regret being your roommate. And possibly how I might need therapy now."

Max giggled. "Therapy is for quitters. You just need a shot of tequila and a cold shower. Or, you know, a one-way ticket to Tokyo."

Caroline groaned, burying her face in a pillow. "Ugh, I can't believe I even considered it. You always make things weird."

Max leaned over, still smirking. "Weird? Or awesome? Because I think you secretly like the idea of a little international romance. A hot, cherry blossom-flavored adventure. Admit it!"

Caroline tossed the pillow at Max, who caught it and promptly used it as a makeshift hat. "No! I am not going to Tokyo to... to lick honey off anyone's abs! I am going to focus on the bakery, enjoy the scenery, and possibly eat my weight in sushi. That's it. Purely professional. No abs involved."

Max raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. You're right. Totally professional. That's why you're still blushing like a middle schooler who just got her first Valentine."

Caroline stood up, hands on her hips, determined to regain control of the conversation and her sanity. "Okay, we are done talking about honey and abs and whatever weird fantasies live in your brain. We need to find your passport, or this whole conversation is moot."

Max let out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine. Back to the passport hunt. But if I find it, I expect you to at least consider having a little fun in Tokyo. And by fun, I mean..."

"Not another word!" Caroline grabbed Max by the shoulders, spinning her around. "You go search the bedroom. I'll check under the couch cushions. And if you so much as whisper 'honey' again, I will tape your mouth shut with that roll of duct tape I found in the pantry."

Max's grin widened. "Kinky."

Caroline's eye twitched. "Go!"

Max scampered off, still giggling, while Caroline dropped to her knees and started pulling cushions off the couch. Her mind, traitor that it was, kept drifting back to the thought of Alex and his... potential.

"Ugh, stop it!" she hissed to herself, shoving a hand between the couch cushions. Her fingers brushed against something hard, and she yanked it out, revealing an ancient, half-melted candy bar.

"Gross," she muttered, tossing it into the trash. "Focus, Caroline. Find the passport. Avoid eye contact with Max. And definitely stop thinking about... that."

From the other room, Max called out, "Did you say something? I think I found another rubber chicken!"

Caroline closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and muttered a quick prayer for patience. "Lord, give me strength."

She pushed deeper into the cushions, finding a remote control, two dollars in change, and what looked like a tiny action figure missing a leg. No passport.

Max reappeared, a tangle of scarves draped around her neck and a ski mask pulled halfway over her face. "Check it out! I'm a fashionable burglar!"

Caroline didn't even look up. "Did you find your passport, or are you just playing dress-up?"

Max flopped onto the couch, sending a cloud of crumbs into the air. "Nope. But I found my 'Emergency Dance Party' fanny pack. It's got glow sticks, gum, and, like, eight quarters."

"Great. Maybe you can use the quarters to bribe the TSA when they ask for your ID."

Max pouted, pulling the ski mask down over her face. "This is hopeless. My passport's probably in Narnia by now. Or it eloped with my dignity. Either way, it's gone forever."

Caroline sat next to her, gently pulling the mask off Max's head. "We'll find it. It has to be here somewhere. Think. Where else could it be?"

Max groaned, tipping over until her head was in Caroline's lap. "I've looked everywhere. The drawers, the closet, under the bed. Even in the bathroom cabinet. It's like it just disappeared."

Caroline absentmindedly patted Max's head. "Okay, when was the last time you needed it? Maybe retracing your steps will help."

Max scrunched up her face, deep in thought. "Uh... I think it was that time Sophie threw her 'International Love' party, where everyone had to bring a dish from a different country. I was Margarita Mexico."

Caroline blinked. "You wore a sombrero and brought tequila. There was nothing international about it."

Max shot up, nearly headbutting Caroline. "Wait! I remember! I used my passport as part of my costume. It was supposed to make me look 'worldly and mysterious.' I think I put it in a box with all my old party stuff."

Caroline's expression brightened. "Great! Where's the box?"

Max's face fell. "In the shed. Outside. Where Chestnut lives."

Caroline's smile vanished. "You mean the shed that also doubles as the raccoon bachelor pad? The one filled with... whatever horrors you've stashed in there?"

Max nodded. "Yep. The Raccoon Lodge. But it's the only place left to check."

With a resigned sigh, Caroline stood up, brushing crumbs off her pants. "Fine. Let's go. But if I get rabies, I'm suing you."

Max grabbed a flashlight, holding it like a weapon. "Relax. Chestnut will protect us. Probably. Unless he's in one of his moods."

[The Shed – Outside]

The shed sat at the back of the building's tiny yard, a rickety structure with peeling paint and a door that hung slightly askew. It looked like the kind of place where horror movie villains might store their tools of the trade. Or where Max stored her regrets.

Chestnut stood nearby, munching on some suspiciously dry-looking grass. He lifted his head as they approached, giving them a look that could only be described as 'mildly judgmental.'

Max patted his nose. "Hey, buddy. You seen my passport?"

Chestnut snorted and went back to his snack.

Caroline wrapped her arms around herself. "I really hate this shed. It smells like old mulch and lost hope."

Max swung the door open, revealing the chaos within. The small space was crammed with cardboard boxes, old Halloween decorations, a rusty lawn chair, and, in the corner, a pile of what might have once been clothes but now resembled a nest.

Max stepped inside, waving the flashlight. "Okay, let's split up. You check the left side. I'll take the pile of doom over here."

Caroline gingerly picked through a box labeled 'Max's Important Things'—which, unsurprisingly, contained nothing important. Just a tangle of Christmas lights, a broken ukulele, and a half-eaten bag of marshmallows. "Why do you keep this stuff?"

Max, digging through a box of mismatched shoes, shrugged. "You never know when you'll need a marshmallow that's aged like fine wine."

Caroline pulled out a Halloween mask, the kind with the elastic band that always snaps after the second use. "Is this a… werewolf? Or a possum?"

"Both," Max said without looking up. "Sophie's party theme was 'Hybrid Horrors.' She won best costume as a mermaid zombie. I won 'Most Likely to Be Arrested.'"

Caroline dropped the mask back into the box. "That's not even surprising."

Max shoved aside a crate filled with pool noodles and froze. "Wait. I think I found it!"

She yanked out a small cardboard box, its lid barely clinging to the sides. It was labeled in faded Sharpie: 'SUPER SECRET STUFF – DO NOT OPEN (unless you're Max)'

Caroline raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing this is the box?"

Max nodded, prying the lid off. Inside were a random collection of items: an old disposable camera, a deflated whoopee cushion, and a jar filled with pennies. But beneath all the clutter, she found it. A blue booklet, slightly bent at the corners but very much intact.

"My passport!" Max whooped, holding it up like a trophy. "I'm not doomed! Tokyo, here I come!"

Caroline let out a relieved breath. "Thank God. I thought we'd have to get you a fake ID and smuggle you onto the plane in a suitcase."

Max opened the passport, flipping through the pages. "And look! No embarrassing stamps from when I tried to get into Canada dressed as a maple leaf."

Caroline peered into the box. "Uh, Max? What's with all these empty bottles?"

Max glanced over and cringed. "Oh, those are, uh... from my 'Let's Make Slime' phase. The lube bottles were on sale, and it was cheaper than buying real craft supplies."

Caroline picked up an empty bottle, its label peeling off. "Max, this isn't even lube. It's... battery acid? Why do you have expired batteries in here?"

Max took the bottle and squinted at it. "Oh. That explains why the slime never glowed in the dark. I thought it just needed more glitter."

Caroline set the bottle down gently, as if it might explode. "You are a walking safety hazard."

Max grinned. "Yep. And now I'm a walking safety hazard with a valid passport."

Chestnut, still outside, gave a snort of approval. Or maybe he was just judging them. It was hard to tell.

Max slipped the passport into her pocket, linking arms with Caroline. "Come on, Blondie. Let's get back inside. I need to pack, and you need to Google how to say 'Help, I've been kidnapped by a billionaire' in Japanese."

Caroline groaned, but a smile tugged at her lips. "I can't believe this is actually happening. Tokyo. I'm not ready for this."

Max squeezed her arm. "You'll be fine. And if all else fails, just follow my lead. When in doubt, act like you belong. Confidence is the best disguise."

Caroline snorted. "Easy for you to say. You could walk into a biker bar wearing a tutu, and they'd probably buy you a drink."

Max shot her a sly look. "That only happened once. And for the record, I got two free drinks. Because real men respect a woman who owns her look."

They closed the shed door, the mess inside now someone else's problem—preferably Future Max's.

Suddenly, both of them stopped. They opened the door and looked at Chestnut. 

"Ok..." Caroline bit her lower lip.

"We forgot about Chestnut..." Max looked at the horse.

"Do you think your sugar daddy can find a place to keep Chestnut?" Caroline asked.

"Oh, now, he becomes my sugar daddy, huh? Say, our sugar daddy and I might call him and ask," Max smirked. "Or I might leave you here and go alone. Ah! Honey and abs, all for Max."

"Please Max, call our sugar daddy and ask for help..." (Max got her good)

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