Chapter 21
The scent of pine filtered throughout Mordhaus; one could smell it entire complexes away. This pungent smell was not necessarily unpleasant- just different.
It stemmed from the giant tree that now sat in the middle of the RecRoom, something Charles admittedly thought he would never see again after the last Christmas disaster. But Zoe had, surprisingly, convinced his boys that Christmas could indeed be metal, and they were giving it one more try.
In between the busy schedule she'd taken on since Charles had allowed her to return to work (which was after the bruises had healed from her ruthless beating over "Linda"), she had taken control of all holiday festivities, forcing herself to "think metal" in order to please the band. This included decorating, something she was extremely fond of.
Everyone had squabbled about the extent to which she was allowed to decorate. In all actuality, there were two sets of fights occurring simultaneously. Dethklok and Zoe-loudly- spent their time arguing over what she could and couldn't do, which mostly meant they sulked and broke things after she went ahead and did it anyway. Unfortunately, that only fueled her fire, and she would rebuild her fantastic displays bigger and better than before. But behind closed doors, she and Charles bickered over how much was too much. And that wasn't only in a monetary sense. When her unquenchable fountain of Christmas cheer attempted to touch their bedroom and his office, he'd put his foot down.
Or, so he'd thought. Sighing, he glared at the tiny Christmas tree on the corner of his desk, willing it to burst into flames or fall to the ground and break beyond repair. But when he realized this would encourage his girlfriend to get him a bigger one, he quickly returned to his work.
Zoe breezed in the door just then, a red and white Santa hat pulled down over her ears. Charles looked at her blankly. How could she have so much extra time to fool around when he had given her enough work to prevent this from happening?
The answer was simple- he'd forgotten during her sick leave that she was just as skilled at multitasking as he was. Red and black garland was draped in strands around her neck, her arms filled with paperwork.
"I thought you said I had a lot to do, Charlie?" She mused, dropping the completed documents on his desk and unraveling one of the garland ropes from her person. Smiling, she held it up to the window pane, turning it this way and that. Charles winced.
"Uh…what are you doing?" She looked at him innocently, as though just realizing he was there.
"Trying to infest you with all the Christmas cheer of a thousand terminal cancer kids."
He blinked.
"You've, ah, been spending time with the guys again, haven't you?" He returned to writing, but was suddenly restrained by a garland lasso. Zoe smirked, dropping the Santa hat on his head. He let her do it, slightly bothered, but maintained his cool.
"I'm, ah, kinda busy…" he mumbled, ignoring the shoulder massage she was giving him from the side of his chair with great difficulty.
"You've been 'ah, kinda busy' since the coffee incident. When are you going to relax?" Her hands slipped down his chest, and she started unbuttoning his suit jacket. It took him a moment to come to his senses, but when he did, he heaved a heavy breath and removed her hands from his body, readjusting his clothes. Zoe paced around the front of the desk, her resignation clearly written on her features.
"Soon."
"Okay. How soon is soon?" Charles shrugged.
"After Christmas. Christmas is always the most busy time of the year, what with everyone gifting merch and, ah, whatnot." Zoe rolled her eyes and rubbed inattentively at the brand mark on the back of her neck.
"Right. After Christmas. The twenty-sixth of December."
He shot her a look that meant business.
"You know how difficult this job is already. Don't make it worse." Wrong thing to say, he knew immediately. Charles watched her face contort from shock to anger. He could practically feel her seething, and it made him sullen and moody.
"Well, forgive me, sire, but last I checked I was just trying to help you out." She growled, gathering her garland up in her arms, and holding out her hand expectantly. Charles snatched the Santa hat off his head and tossed it to her.
"Why are you so pissed off about this? All I said was that I was busy, and that I didn't want my damn office decorated. You know, life isn't all sex and cuddles all the time, Zo."
He never thought she was capable of such an expression, but when she set her things down in the chair and placed her hands on her hips, he knew he was in for a terrible afternoon. Still, he felt justified.
"Why are you being so bitchy lately?" She countered without answering.
"I'm not."
"Yes, you are. I try to make a joke- you shut me down. I ask you how your day's been going- just a 'fine'. We don't talk anymore. We don't do anything together anymore, like go walking or watch movies or even eat dinner together. I thought Christmas would be a good excuse to reconnect, but I guess I was wrong. Maybe you haven't noticed, but you've been pulling away from me in all aspects of this relationship. It takes two to tango."
"Yes, but it, ah, apparently takes six to stomp, and you and the boys have been more than I can handle lately. I need space! Between their issues, the budget this month, monitoring sales, booking shows, and taking care of you-"
"Whoa. Stop. Just…stop. What do you mean, taking care of me?"
Charles felt his entire body heat up, and he fought to hide the flustered, shamed expression from his face. Before he could answer, Zoe took a few steps forward and planted her hands squarely on his desk.
"Last I checked, Charles, I'm a self sufficient woman. I took care of myself before I came here, and the way we're going, I'll be taking care of myself long after I leave. Yeah, I was poisoned. Wouldn'ta happened if I wasn't here. I'm over it- why aren't you? And, while we're at it, if you need so much space when I have literally left you completely alone for the last four days to decorate, finish work, and do my own shopping and holiday things, fine. Take all the space you need. Merry freakin' Christmas."
Turning on her heel, she marched out the door, leaving a disgruntled CFO to stare once again at the small Christmas tree on his desk and try to make it spontaneously combust.
By morning the next day, dawn's light still found him in his office, lying belly-up on the couch. He'd made a deadly error when he'd given his girlfriend command of his bedroom, and he had been removed from the room before he even had a chance to change his clothes.
Zoe had sat on the edge of the bed, brushing her hair, when Charles walked in. Neither of them spoke. He stripped down to his shirt and slacks before she had seen enough of him.
"Out."
"…huh?"
"Get out, Charles." She stood, placing a hand on his sternum and pushing him backwards out the door. He put up no resistance, not wanting to misjudge his own strength and hurt her.
"It's my room!" He cried incredulously. Zoe made a face at him.
"Not anymore."
"Can't we talk about this?"
"We did. You want space, I want sleep. I'm pretty sure there are some open rooms in the employee's quarters. But you gotta hurry- the offer expires when someone's touchy, holiday-hating boyfriend bitches her out for getting sick in a freak occurance." She snapped. Charles considered starting up the entire fight again, but didn't want anyone jumping to rash conclusions that late at night.
"Can I at least have my pillows?"
She threw one at his feet, and the other hit him in the face before she slammed the door shut on him. Dumbfounded, Charles had stood in the hall for a minute or so, gawking at the blocked entryway, before retreating to his office, infuriated.
She showed up later that morning, punctual as always, but simply waited to be assigned to a task. He gave her some of Skwisgaar's paternity cases to overturn, and she left his office, only to return when they were finished. The pattern overlapped into the rest of their lives. Charles continued sleeping on the couch in his office. They ate breakfast together in silence. Their existence as a couple hung precariously in the balance between work and play, with Zoe being the only one interested in the upcoming holiday and any attempts at communication.
This behavior continued for a few days. Both CFO and lawyer were aware that Dethklok watched their standoff curiously from the sidelines, but kept their mouths shut, for what was likely the first time in their lives. The romantic roadblock between their managers was not a battle they wanted a part in. At least, not until the first snowfall to cover Mordhaus.
Snow always had a calming effect on Zoe. She was mystified by its beauty, so on the morning when she awoke to the flakes flying from the pure white sky, she felt humbled, her pride dampened by remorse for being angry at Charles. Her loneliness far outweighed that. Unfortunately, neither was strong enough to make her apologize.
So it was an apprehensive moment when Charles motioned for her to follow him outside to address Dethklok, who were watching the new wolf pups from a relatively safe distance. She picked up her pad of paper and pencil, and he waited while she pulled on her gloves and jacket. They walked in silence in the late afternoon, the tension crackling in the air between them.
The stark whiteness of the outside world momentarily blinded them both when they exited the main Mordhaus building, and Zoe bumped into Charles' shoulder. She mumbled a quick apology, and he nodded, tuning her out. They reached Dethklok, who glanced between each other, unsure of what was to come.
"Afternoon, gentlemen. Just, ah, a couple of things to go over with you today. Skwisgaar, there's, ah, a new endorsement opportunity for you, but I'll say right now I don't think it's a wise one to take."
"Will it makes me monies?" He lazily looked up from his place on the picnic bench, shivering even in his coat. Charles raised an eyebrow.
"Well, yes, but-"
"Great. Den let's do's dat."
"Don't you, ah, want to hear what it is?" The CFO prodded, not wanting to take the Swede at his word without being sure it was something he wanted his name attached to. After all, it was a bit of an ironic business move.
"Fine. Let's me hears it." He waited. Charles cleared his throat, a bit uncomfortable.
"Well, ah, you'd be endorsing a well-known brand of, ah, contraceptive devices." He finished his sentence quickly, coughing.
"What are cun-tras-sept-tat-teeves devices?" Skwisgaar cocked his head to the side like a dog. Beside him on the ground, Toki, who was preoccupied with making a snowman, attempted to mimic the word.
"Contraasitive devices."
"Cun-tro-seep-te-tives"
"Con-tro-sed-at-tips."
Charles winced.
"They're, ah, well…" He stuttered, adjusting his glasses. Zoe rolled her eyes.
"Oh, for crying out loud, the endorsement is for a condom company." She said, crossing her arms. Pickles looked at her curiously. Skwisgaar visibly balked at the idea.
"Bah. Dey's wants me to puts my name on de pleasure killers?"
"Ah, yes, Skwisgaar, and there are some, ah, stipulations that come with the endorsement, such as the fact that if you take the endorsement, you'll have to, ah, actually use the products they send you. You know, to do advertisements and reviews and whatnot." He could feel the heat from Zoe's glare burning holes into his temple, but was helpless to guard against it. The blond snorted.
"Ums, no's, no tanks you's." Charles tugged at his collar.
"Alright then. Moving on, ah, you boys have decided not to do a secret Santa this year, right?"
Nods all around.
"So you won't be needing your allowances in advance then?"
"Well, if you inshischt on it…" Murderface smirked.
"Actually, no, I wasn't insisting on anything. I-"
"We'll take the money." Nathan muttered. "Anything else?"
"Yes. Are you aware you have a show coming up for, ah, New Years?"
"That dependsch. Will there be boozhe?"
"Of course."
"Yeah, yeah, Chief, we'll be there and we'll be good." Pickles bent down and grabbed a fistful of snow. Balling it up, he waited his chance, then hurled it at Nathan, who caught it in the chest.
"The fuck was that, Pickles?" He bellowed, brushing himself off.
"That, Nat'an, was how you start a snowball fight." Pickles said, matter-of-factly.
Murderface snuck up behind Pickles then, and dumped an armful of the cold substance on his head. The drummer squawked unhappily, while Nathan had time to recuperate and form his own snowball. Toki jumped up, excited.
"Wowee! A snowsballs fight!" He smashed a loose snowball into Skwisgaar's face, who cursed in Swedish and flattened his companion guitarist by shoving his shins. Toki faceplanted into the ground, unharmed and giggling.
Charles felt ever more the bearer of burden, so he turned to take his leave. Zoe moved to follow him, when Pickles called out from under a mountain of snow.
"Hey! Zoe! Do ya wanna hang out with us right now?" She looked from Charles to Pickles, shaking her head.
"I'd love to, but the warden here," she started, jabbing her thumb in Charles' direction, "won't let me come out to play."
All of Dethklok made a sort of congenial condolence noise.
"Well why the feck not? It's Christmas Eve, for feck's sake!"
"Sorry guys, we've, ah, got work to do." Charles answered tersely, and Pickles scowled at the back of his head. Zoe had taken the opportunity to make a snowball of her own, playfully tossing it at the drummer, who grinned and threw one back.
All at once, Zoe was being pummeled by packed snow grenades from all five members of Dethklok, and her laughter rang throughout the courtyard as she shielded her body. Charles huffed, peeved, and continued his retreat.
Suddenly everyone stopped, waiting. Murderface had thrown a particularly big snowball with a particularly hard arm at Zoe, who had seen it in time and ducked.
It hit Charles square in the back of the head.
Silence settled over the entire yard. Even the pups had retreated to their den and were quietly suckling. Zoe's look of shock melted into a stifled fit of giggles, and she put a gloved hand to her mouth. Charles twitched, melting drops of the wet snow rolling down into his shirt collar and freezing him out.
"Are you okay?" Zoe finally asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Charles nodded.
"Who threw it?"
"Murderface." She smirked as she ratted him out, enjoying the traitorous glare he sent her way. Charles rubbed at his neck, and moved to continue his retreat into Mordhaus, but a lisping voice stopped him.
"Pusshy."
"Excuse me?"
"I said, pusssss-" Murderface did not have time to finish reiterating his statement, because he was suddenly chewing on a mouthful of snow. Charles clapped his gloves together, wiping the snow from the leather palms. Pickles chuckled. Nathan smirked. Toki and Skwisgaar looked at each other.
And suddenly Mordhaus' yard was a battlefield. Zoe shrieked, snow flying in all directions, and abandoned Charles' side to escape the fallout. Pickles called her name, and she dove behind the barricade wall he'd finished building up. Huddled behind the wall with the drummer, who had his knees pulled into his chest and was forming snowballs as fast as he could while keeping a weather eye on the expanse of earth that was their new playground, she caught her breath.
"Somethin' up between you and the Chief?" He mused, turning to whip a snowball in Skwisgaar's direction before narrowly avoiding the retaliation. Zoe peeked around the wall, gauging everyone's position. As usual, everyone had split into some form of teams. It could easily be described as the great snowball battle: Scandinavians versus redheads versus those with speech impediments- namely, lisps, stutters, and a need to say "um" when speaking for long periods of time.
"Yeah. We're fighting…" She sighed, replenishing the snowball stock after Pickles had drilled a hole through the fort of the speech-impaired.
"Well, don't do that. Makes us kinda nervous."
"Psht. It isn't that easy, Pickles. You know how he is."
Pickles nodded sagely, but gave her an even look.
"Are you sure it's entirely his fault?"
She didn't have a chance to answer, however, because beyond their pow-wow, a piercing battle cry was uttered in Norwegian from behind the picnic table, and Toki charged the team that was Nathan, Murderface, and Charles with a barrage of snowballs sailing every which way. Murderface's attempt at using Nathan as a shield only got him knocked into Charles, who tumbled out into the open and was instantly made the target of the guitarist. He scrambled to his feet, tossing ammunition at Toki as he was chased around the yard, indulging in the game for once. Pickles and Zoe looked at each other, grinning, before joining the attack.
"Get him!" She screamed, and the counter-attack that Skwisgaar had been planning for the redheads was turned on Charles, who could do nothing except keep running. Everyone began to bombard the CFO with snow, and he was doing a fair job of avoiding them, until Zoe climbed up and vaulted over the table, effectively getting within range to corner him.
"No!" He said, breathless, when she started whipping the non-explosive grenades at him. A fit of laughter escaped his throat, a rare experience for Dethklok. They piled on the snow, and he twisted away, on the run once again.
"Apologize and we'll stop!" Zoe yelled, receiving an armful of snowballs from Toki and taking up the hunt once again.
"But I didn't do anything!"
"Yes, you did!" Charles ducked behind one of the makeshift forts, finally able to return fire. Dethklok slowly came to the realization that this battle was really between two people, and though they still threw snowballs, their words died down.
"What? Tell me what I did and I'll tell you if it requires an apology." He growled, wiping the snow from his glasses. Zoe was becoming angry.
"Ever since I was poisoned you've been treating me like I'm made of glass. Newsflash! I'm still alive!" She advanced, her snowballs flying fast and furious. The area behind the fort clear of ammunition and extra snow, Charles returned to running. But he didn't anticipate how fast his opponent could run, and she tripped him in mid stride.
Charles fell to the ground hard, skidding a short distance before rolling over and being jumped by an angry lawyer. She pummeled him with snow, and he tried to push her off gently.
"See? That's what I mean, Charles! You used to bare no holds on me. You trained me to protect then. I am not a wimpy little girl that needs saving from the monsters under her bed. You didn't even put up a fight when I kicked you out of your own room!" Charles threw her off balance suddenly, rolling her over into the snow.
"Well what do you want from me, Zoe? Do you want me to hurt you? Do you want me to watch you get hurt? Is that what you want?" He pinned her arms to the ground above her head, but the wind was unexpectedly knocked out of him when she kneed him in the crotch. It was the first time she'd done any damage not involving a snowball. Temporarily taken by surprise, Zoe had the opportunity to flip their tangle of arms and legs once again, and then rolled Charles onto his stomach, sitting on his lower back and shoving his face into the snow. Dethklok flinched, amusedly watching the childish fight between two typically reserved entities.
"No! I want you to stop being such a dick and get back to normal. Treat me like an equal, or I quit. Those are my freaking demands." Charles squirmed, his face freezing. She tugged on his hair, lifting his head out of the snow just long enough for him to answer. He sputtered, his lips numb.
"You can't quit. And I do treat you like an equal." Back into the snow.
"Then stop acting like such a pushover and man up. For Christ's sakes, Charles, tap the fuck out!" She continued to whitewash him violently until he finally wormed an arm out from under her knee and slammed an open palm down on the ground several times.
Solitude settled over the yard again, the snow muting any echoes, and the wind covered Zoe's heavy breathing. This lapse, however, was much more comfortable than the previous ones. Dethklok looked down at the defeated lump that was their manager, and the victor slowly dismounting from his back, and began a slow clap.
"That was fuckin' brutal." Nathan commented as Charles rolled over, gasping for air like a fish on a dock. He tried to glare at the frontman, but found his glasses were not only covered in snow, but fogged from his own breathing. Zoe looked up at Nathan while she resettled herself on top of her lover, straddling Charles' stomach.
"Yeah, well, don't get used to it. He let me win. He could've slaughtered me before he even hit the ground. But he didn't." Pickles rubbed at the back of his head.
"Well, maybe it was outta respect, with you bein' a lady and all." Zoe huffed.
"It's snow. Freakin' snow. It's not like it would've killed me." At that, Dethklok filed inside, leaving the two of them alone in the yard.
"Now. What are you going to do, Charles?" She leaned over him, shielding him from the cold wind with her body, seeing as he was utterly soaked.
"I'm going to, ah, treat you like an equal."
"What else?"
"I'm going to take my room back."
"Very good. What else?" She took his glasses off, cleaning them with her sleeve.
"I'm, ah, going to do this."
Zoe gasped when Charles rubbed a fistful of snow in her face, smirking. The shocked expression only continued to obscure her pretty features for another moment, for he pulled her down into a long kiss. His tongue probed her bottom lip, and she put up a fight, not willing to open up. It was only when Charles smacked her ass that she yelped in surprise, and he was able to slip his tongue in her mouth, wrestling hers into submission.
She pulled back, regaining her composure.
"That's better." She smiled, climbing off him and offering him a hand. He took it and slowly got to his feet, shivering. Zoe wrapped an arm around Charles' waist, handing him back his glasses.
"I'm sorry. I just…I was, ah, afraid that if something else happened…" He stuttered, and she put a finger to his lips.
"I know. It's alright. And I'm sorry, too. I've been a real jerk lately, and you're right- I've been trying to cling when I shouldn't be clinging. I was scared, too. But, anyway. C'mon- let's get you warmed up before you catch a cold."
That evening, everyone sat in the RecRoom, Charles included. He'd already made a promise weeks in advance to drink with them on Christmas Eve, and held himself to it. The alcohol filtered through his system, and he was pleasantly buzzed and feeling much warmer than he had since he'd gone inside. He undid his collar button and the second button down, leaning back in the lounge chair.
The giant, specially grown Christmas tree twinkled in the center of the room, the lights strobing red and gold. The actual branches had been genetically altered to grow black. The ornaments were shaped like various torture weapons and bottles of booze. Everything from saw blades to bombs to Tomahawk missiles adorned its branches, keeping company with renditions of Heineken, Jagermeister, and Grey Goose bottles. The tinsel was made from shredded pieces of beer cans, and the twinkling star on top glittered with drops of mercury between the glass. Nathan looked it over thoughtfully from his place on the couch.
"Huh. It's not so bad." He murmured. Charles, too, cast a glance at the tree, sipping yet another beer.
"See, Nathan? Christmas can, ah, be metal too."
"Hey, I said it wasn't so bad. I didn't say it was the fuckin' poster tree for brutality."
"Stop talking about the tree, it's very sensitive!" A female voice echoed from down the hall, and Zoe appeared. Charles' swimmy vision focused on her, and he stifled a sigh.
The other members of Dethklok tried to avoid staring, as they knew Charles would get back at them, but their poor judgment only worsened when inebriated.
"Holy crap!" Pickles hiccupped, strategically placing his seventh bottle of the night in his lap to hide his enthusiasm.
"Heys, Ofdensens, yous don't has a secrets Santas. You's have a secrets stripper!" Skwisgaar remarked, leaning over to nudge his manager in the ribs from the adjacent chair.
Zoe shook her head, the pom-pom on her Santa hat softly hitting her ears. She grinned, sashaying over to Charles while singing "Santa Baby" softly under her breath. He smiled as she settled herself in his lap, crossing her legs and tugging on her fur-trimmed miniskirt.
"Well this is, ah, unexpected." He remarked as she once again moved the hat from her head to his. It looked absolutely ridiculous, and she giggled.
"Just thought I'd be your Santa, if you don't mind me being a space invader." She murmured against his neck, biting gently, and knowing that because he was well on his way to getting drunk, he wouldn't protest the fact that it was in front of the band.
"Mm…not at all."
Charles tipped his head back, and Skwisgaar leered at the woman perched on the CFO's left leg.
"Cans you be ours Santas, too?" Zoe wrinkled her nose at him.
"No, sorry boys, I got you some presents, but Santa only visits Charles tonight." Charles moaned in ecstasy as she nipped at his jawline. He melted against the chair, and the fire roaring in the fireplace exposed the flush creeping up his neck and chest. Murderface groaned.
"Get a room, you two. I mean, really. It'sch bad enough when Skwischgaar does it."
"Ands I does not do's that right nows."
"Yeah. Makes me sick just lookin' at 'em, dood."
"Ugh. It's so…it's just…argh, it's disgusting! It's like watching your parents fucking…kiss or something." Nathan spewed, munching on a Christmas cookie.
Toki just snored in response, his empty beer bottle rolling across the floor when he dropped it in his sleep. Zoe chuckled, tugging on Charles' belt. Nathan growled and pressed his face into the couch, eliminating the grotesque vision from his slight and eliciting a trill of delighted laughter from the scantily clad Santa on his manager's lap.
"I thinks I ams goings to be sick." Skwisgaar whimpered, clutching his stomach. The rest of the band sighed in agreement.
"Oh, come on, it's not that bad, is it?" Zoe purred, kissing Charles on the cheek. Pickles feigned a retching noise, shoving his finger in his mouth for emphasis.
"Fine. Then he comes with me."
"TAKE HIM." Nathan thundered, wanting the horror that was the couple beside him to be gone from his retinas and erased from his mind.
Standing, Zoe tugged on Charles hand, and he got to his feet, wobbling only slightly. His arm encircled her waist, a self-righteous smile seemingly plastered to his lips. The Santa hat comically slipped to one side, and he saluted the band as Zoe dragged him off in the direction of their bedroom.
"Merry, ah, Christmas, guys." He murmured before giving in to her incessant tug. When the sound of their footsteps was gone, The room was quiet, save for the crackle of the fireplace. Nathan looked up, confirming their absence.
"This is why we should never do another Christmas again."
With that, they all proceeded to drink as much as it took to make sure they had no memory of the entire day, let alone that night.