Faith looked back at Charles, her expression calm.
"Did you want to hear it?" She asked.
Without waiting for an answer, she picked up the remote and turned up the television.
"I would not have pegged you for a metal head," Hope stated with a chuckle.
Charles paused. No one was going to point out the fact that the Dethklok Minute was showing his picture? Sure, the picture they were showing was Charles F. Offdensen, ruler of Mordhaus and the triplets knew him as Charles O. Stonebreaker, gentlemanly estate lawyer, but –
Charles straightened for a minute. He cast a look at the large mirror hanging on the wall. Sure, the man looking back at him was rumpled and bed headed, but – and bearded; the beard did change his appearance more than he thought. He wasn't wearing his glasses, either. He was more tan than his 'official' picture thanks to his long walks back in Arcata and his hair looked lighter, again thanks to long exposure to the California sun. He really didn't look like Charles Offdensen anymore.
This was a good thing if the media was going to start flashing around his picture. Note to self: get contact lenses.
"You know, I could never figure that guy out," Mercy said as the narrator gave a brief run down of Offdensen's untimely – and apparently gruesome – death.
"Ah . . . what do you mean?" Charles asked.
"He was supposed to be this big financial genius; he could have done anything," Mercy said, pausing to sip her coffee. "Why did he waste it on Dethklok?"
"Maybe . . . ah . . . maybe he believed in them," Charles said, trying to keep his voice level.
Mercy shrugged.
On screen, Murderface explained that they wouldn't be hiring a new manager: it was just too soon.
"Awww, looks like the feeling was mutual," Mercy said. "It's kind of sweet that they were so attached to the guy they won't hire a new manager."
"They're going to manage their own money now?" Faith said. "Hoo boy . . ."
"This oughta be good," Hope said with a wicked chuckle.
Charles was torn between picking up the TV and shaking it while yelling: 'YOU IDIOTS! I already had my replacement picked out!', being secretly touched that the boys wouldn't replace him, and giving the triplets a piece of his mind.
"You . . . ah . . . you're looking forward to watching them fail?" he managed to ask.
"Well . . . maybe not 'looking forward' to it," Hope said. "But . . . I mean, it's gonna happen with their manager gone."
"I'm looking forward to it!" Mercy said cheerfully. "I have to explain to my kids everyday that what Dethklok does doesn't work for everyone else. It will be good for them to deal with some consequences for their behavior."
Charles wasn't sure if Mercy meant it would be good for the children to see Dethklok getting their comeuppance or if it would be good for Dethklok to get their comeuppance. He supposed it didn't matter.
"When you put it like that . . ." Hope said grudgingly. "I play piano so much that I've had carpal tunnel surgery on both wrists and I'm still working local weddings and school plays. Murderface plucks his G string with his dick once and makes more money than all three of us will ever see in our entire lifetimes."
"Charles used to work for Dethklok," Faith announced.
'Oh God, don't point that out, honey,' Charles pleaded in the privacy of his own mind. 'I can't believe nobody noticed that I'm Charles Offdensen, but you three are sharp cookies and someone's going to start putting two and two together.'
Hope and Mercy looked at the disguised manager in surprise.
"He's probably met the band before and everything," Faith pointed out.
Mercy looked uncomfortable as she realized she had been slamming people Charles knew personally.
"Sorry," she mumbled. "I'm sure they're very nice in person. But celebrities are so successful and smug sometimes it's fun to watch them fall."
"They're gonna have to invent a new word for 'celebrity trainwreck'," Hope announced.
"It's more than money, too. Offdensen protected them from a lot. I can't wait to see what happens when Skwisgaar's eighty bazillion children figure out his demon lawyer is out of the way."
"Paternity waivers," Charles said instantly. "Those women signed off beforehand that they would not seek to legally prove that any band member was the father of their child."
"Think they're keeping up with those things with Offdensen gone?" Hope asked.
"They damn well better be!" Charles said more hotly than he intended. "S-sorry. I mean . . . as hard as . . . uh . . . . Mr. Offdensen worked for the boys –"
"What a disgusting idea," Mercy growled.
"Mercy . . ." Faith began.
"It's disgusting that someone sat down and wrote up a legal document absolving Dethklok of any and all responsibility for children they helped create!" the school teacher snapped. "And most of them came from broken homes! You think they'd understand what it was like to grow up missing a parent!"
"I . . . uh . . . I have to concede that last point," Charles admitted. "But . . . . Mr. Offdensen was just protecting the band. That's what he – what he did."
"They should sterilize those sluts as they walk out the door," Mercy snarled. "Anyone who would spread her legs for anything as stupid as fame doesn't need to be reproducing."
"Strangely enough, we couldn't get those contracts through legal," Charles said. "The Skank Patrol practically hoses them down with spermicide before they leave, but I guess life finds a way."
Mercy shuddered and took another sip of her coffee.
"Hate people that abandon their children," she growled.
This seemed to be a sticking point. In fact, Faith and Hope had gone very quiet as well. It suddenly occurred to Charles that while the triplets' house was liberally sprinkled with pictures of their father and every few hours one of them spouted the phrase 'Daddy always says . . .' he'd never heard them mention their mother.
Eager to get the subject off of Dethklok, Charles made an educated guess.
"How old were you when she left?"
The triplets blinked at him owlishly.
"Who?" Faith asked, cementing the image.
"Your mother."
Silence reigned. Hope picked listlessly at her eggs. Mercy glared down into her coffee cup, as if she wanted to either cry or attack and couldn't decide which. Faith looked . . . Faith suddenly looked very tired.
"I'm . . . I'm sorry, you don't have to—" Charles began.
"Five," Faith said. "We were five years old."
"Sometimes she'd go out at night when Daddy was deployed," Mercy said, scratching at the design on her coffee cup as though trying to pick it off. "She said we were big girls and we could stay home by ourselves."
"She's always say 'Now don't tell Daddy!'" Hope offered.
Charles didn't like the direction this was heading.
"One night, she went out and . . . . never came back," Faith said softly. "We . . . . just carried on. Went to school, made sandwiches and soup for dinner, took our baths, did each other's hair. . ."
"How long were you alone for before someone noticed?" Charles asked.
"After a week we ran out of food, so Faith called the MPs," Mercy said.
"The dispatcher actually . . . huh . . . she actually tried to blow us off at first," Faith recalled. "Tried to tell me my Mommy would be home soon and I shouldn't play on the phone. It wasn't until I said we were out of food that she actually asked how long we'd been alone."
"They came to the house with the sirens and lights on and everything," Hope offered.
"Daddy came back from Turkey the next day," Mercy said.
"Oh my God . . . ."
"It wasn't that bad," Faith protested. "We weren't hurt or starving or dirty or anything. It actually hurt worse that . . . she was gone for good."
"After a few weeks Daddy went back overseas. We got to go live with Grandma Chieko in Japan," Mercy said.
"We didn't speak Japanese," Hope said.
"We stayed with her for about five years, then Daddy got transferred to England and we got to stay with him again," Faith stated.
"At which point we'd almost forgotten how to speak English," Hope chimed in.
"I think we were in England for . . . three years? And then we went to Germany for two," Mercy continued.
"Then we came back to the States," Faith said.
"Well, it was Hawaii; that's almost the United States," Hope offered.
They'd been bounced around from pillar to post, losing not just any friends they'd made along the way, but the whole culture they'd become acquainted with. No wonder they were so close; their sisters had been the only constant thing they'd had growing up. No wonder they wanted to stay together. No man could even think of prying them apart. The best a guy could do was allow that happy sisterhood to fold around him. It wouldn't do to be Faith's boyfriend or Mercy's lover or Hope's friend-with-benefits, you had to be prepared to be part of the Noh family or nothing.
Charles stood and walked between Mercy and Faith's chairs. He took their hands and coaxed them to stand, gesturing for Hope to do the same thing. Once on their feet, Charles gathered the triplets up into a bear hug and squeezed them as tightly as he dared. They hummed and cooed as the group held each other warmly.
"I . . . uh . . . I never had much of a family," Charles admitted. "Not – not like you three. That house is so happy and . . . and . . . alive. I was always just settled for . . . ah . . . mere existence. But I have to say Noh family is . . . is . . . much better than none at all."
There was pause.
Faith groaned.
"That was payback for the Charlie's Angels thing, wasn't it?" she asked.
"We almost had a very sweet moment, there," Hope giggled.
"I thought so, too, but then someone . . . ah . . . grabbed my junk," Charles announced. "So I went for broke."
"That was me; sorry," Mercy murmured.
"You're still doing it, I notice."
"Sorry," Mercy repeated with a big smile. "It's just such a handful!"
"You wake him up and you'll have to play with him until he gets tired," the disguised manager warned her.
At this point Hope pulled out of the group hug and turned back to her breakfast.
"Sounds good to me," Mercy hummed.
"My pancakes are getting cold," Faith stated, returning to her own plate.
Charles didn't acknowledge this, just turned his attention to the woman gently caressing his most intimate area. Said intimate area was already rising to the occasion.
"Would you care to join me for a shower, Miss Noh?" he inquired.
"I would love to, Mr. Stonebreaker," Mercy purred.
Charles put his arm around her shoulders and led her back to the hotel bathroom.
One very extended shower later, Charles dressed and helped his ladies dress. They packed up their things and checked out of the hotel room. Faith offered to let Charles ride back home in her car. As they buckled themselves into the classic muscle car, the dominant triplet gave Charles a sideways look.
"Did you have to wear a hood?" she asked abruptly. "When you worked for Dethklok, I mean."
"Ah . . . all Gears have to wear hoods," Charles answered. "Even Legal."
"Huh, well, it's probably for the best," Faith said, checking her mirrors.
"What . . . ah . . . . what do you mean by that?" Charles asked.
"If anybody had seen how much you looked like Charles Offdensen, they would have pulled you to play double for him!" she said, pulling out into traffic.
Charles had a very good poker face. It was a good thing.
"It . . . ah . . . wouldn't have been such a bad gig," he allowed.
"Well, when the Revengencers stormed Mordhaus, they probably would have killed you, too, just to be sure they got the right Charles," Faith pointed out. "They might have killed you instead of Offdensen."
"Well . . . . ah . . . that might have been better. I mean! With Offdensen dead, Dethklok might fail and that would cause the worldwide recession to be even worse!" Charles amended quickly at the sharp look Faith gave him. "So . . uh . . . greater good and all that."
The disguised manager wasn't sure how to categorize the long look Faith kept locked on him. 'Intense' was a good one, but he wasn't sure it what it was so intense about.
"Fuck the world," the dominant triplet announced in a surprisingly soft voice. "I'd still rather have Charles Stonebreaker."
Faith had to look back to the road rather than hold Charles' gaze, but the disguised manager stared hard at her for a long while. Given the choice, she'd rather have him – and not rich and powerful him, but weedy little geek him – than the world be in a thriving economy? Faith was the one who managed the money, so she knew how important that was, but she still wanted Charles to be part of the family.
Charles Stonebreaker.
Of course, he wasn't Stonebreaker, but she didn't know that. He almost felt sorry that she hadn't figured it out. Some little part of him wanted to tell the triplets the truth of who he was. He wanted to believe that it wouldn't matter to them.
But.
They had to stay in the dark for the same reasons he had to change his appearance and take on a moniker. Their ignorance was their safety. One day he'd tell them. And when that day came, Charles could almost believe it wouldn't matter to them. They could all be one family, be it Noh, Stonebreaker, or Offdensen.
Charles leaned in and kissed Faith gently on the cheek.
"You make me wish I was better at those kind of words," he said.
"Actions speak louder anyway," Faith said with a small smile.
"You're driving; we'd both be killed."
"True!" Faith laughed. "I guess it can wait until we get home."
"Yes. Let's go home."