Part seven

After the concert the band had gone out for drinks to celebrate. Charles had respectfully declined, after all some people had work in the morning. Despite the band's pleadings (well, mostly Nathan and a little Pickles, Skwisgaar was pretty disinterested) Charles just refused to show up sloppy for work. He didn't care how much luck Nathan had brought him, he just wasn't going to risk it.

That was how Charles found himself blissfully alone in his own apartment. If he was very still he could hear the gentle hum of the refrigerator. He'd taken a few business cards from venue owners and proprietors after the show. The first thing he did upon arriving at home was to organize the business cards and make notes on the contacts he had made. He may not know anything about music but organizing was second nature to him. He put a special star next to two of the names that had seemed particularly serious about having Dethklok play at their venue. Charles did a quick internet search to be sure they were who they said they were and then committed those names to memory. It never hurt to know your opponent by name.

By the time he was done it was just passed eleven. Nathan would probably be home soon. He picked up a massive tome that Nathan had been using to elevate the TV. Charles would just brush up on some constitutional law till Nathan got back. He wasn't lonely mind you, he just wanted to be sure Nathan got in safe.

Some how the intricacies of state versus federal import regulations just didn't hold his attention the way it usually did. He'd read the same paragraph over and over and he still had no idea what it said. If only the refrigerator would stop humming so loudly. It was impossible to concentrate with all that racket.

Charles looked up from his text book to glare fiery death at the ice box. After a minute or so it quieted.

That was better, Charles could concentrate again. He picked the book back up. He read through the entire case, the history, the majority opinion and the minority one. It was all just so fascinating, Charles thought that surely time must have flown by. He looked up at the clock. Less than ten minutes had passed. They just don't write supreme court rulings like they used too.

Charles returned the book to it's rightful place under the TV. He took off his glasses and tried to rest his eyes. He took a few deep breaths and began to relax.

Some where on the street a car backfired. Charles' eyes shot open and he lost his sense of inner peace.

As a last resort he flipped on Nathan's broken old television and found some re-run of a black and white TV show. Charles got comfortable and let the mind numbing powers of television wash over him.

---

"SHIT"

Charles awoke with a jerk. The TV, displaying a twenty-four hour news network on mute, was the only light in the room. Across the living room Charles could see Nathan trying to grab his stubbed toe without toppling over.

"shitshitshitshit"

Nathan grabbed the counter to keep from falling over but his hand landed on pile of paper work from Charles' firm's latest case. Nathan managed to keep his balance but paper work went flying everywhere.

"What are you doing coming home at" he paused to glance at the TV. "four thirty in the morning?!? Do you know how worried I was?!"

Nathan laughed for no real reason other than he could. Even from the other side of the room Charles could smell the alcohol. There really was no point in scolding him, he wouldn't remember in the morning anyway. With a practiced easy that came from years as a designated driver, Charles got up and directed Nathan to the sofa.

"Dude, Octo bombs and then you light them on fire. BOOM!" Charles hoped that none of his neighbors would complain about the shouting the next morning. "and then this cat RAWR!" Nathan made a descriptive hand motion that left Charles even more confused.

He settled Nathan down on the sofa. Luckily, Nathan still seemed to have enough sense to take off his own shoes. Thank god, Charles didn't fancy trying to wrestle the massive grubby boots off by himself.

While Nathan was busy remembering which way to pull to get his shoes off Charles went to fetch a glass of water. Once the epic struggle had subsided and Nathan was now freed of the steel toed beasts, Charles handed over the glass.

"Drink."

Nathan took the glass and complied. He downed the whole thing in one polished move that spoke of years of practice chugging beer. When he was finished he gave a loud belch and handed the glass back.

With a superficial calm, Charles walked back into the kitchen and refilled the glass.

He sat the glass and himself down on the coffee table across from Nathan.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was? I thought you were injured or worse." his voice cracked a little on the last word betraying his true concern. So much for keeping his distance.

"Aw, don't worry Charlie," Nathan slurred as he pulled Charles in for a sloppy, smelly hug. "I not dead, I'm invice.... invin.... Unkillable."

He released Charles and started to slid down the sofa. Before he passed out he managed one last whispered reassurance.

"Even if I do die, I'll come back so you can yell at me..."

Then he started to snore. Charles couldn't believe it but he was actually reassured. If anyone had a chance of beating death it was Nathan. When the grim reaper came he would probably be too confused by the similarities to do his job properly. Charles grabbed the aspirin bottle and left it near the full glass of water. He turned off the TV and made sure the curtains were shut tight before whispering good night to the slumbering lump on his sofa.

---

Charles had only managed two good hours of sleep. Looking at himself in the mirror he looked about as bad as he would have if he'd gone out drinking in the first place. Still he smoothed out his hair and tried to splash the life back into his cheeks with cold water.

That was as good as it was going to get. Charles didn't have time to make breakfast and anyway he didn't want to risk waking Nathan up. He walked across the living room and opened the front door as quietly as possible. Today there was no groggy 'g'day' only a jarring snore to see him out the door.

He arrived at the office looking haggard with a large coffee and a muffin he would normally have scoffed at for lack of nutritional value.

The whole office seemed to be having an impromptu meeting around his desk.

One of the other clerks was making an impassioned speech to the boss.

"See, even Charles is looking overworked! You've just got to do something!"

"Right!" agreed the rest of the office lackeys.

"Right?" agreed Charles not wanting to feel left out.

"Okay, okay, I see your point," agreed the boss making placating hand gestures. "I can tell from looking at Offdensen that I have been working you guys too hard. You can all have the afternoon off today and starting next week we'll have flex time."

There was a cheer from the crowd and many of Charles' coworkers reached out to give him a congratulatory pat on the back. He had no idea what he'd done but there would be time enough to figure it out later. After he'd finished his coffee.