Nicholson was, unfortunately, as good as his word. I was somewhat hoping he'd flake, forcing me to make good on my resignation, but that Friday, I got the call to come up to his office to review my new contract to make sure it was to my liking. On the bright side, I finally found a place away from my dad that wasn't too far from CHAANK headquarters, making my commute much easier.

I took off the week I moved out, giving me some time to settle in. To my surprise, Jack barely protested at all over my announcement, saying only that he'd have to think up a "surprise" for me to celebrate the occasion. I didn't relish the thought of getting a surprise-anything from him, but there was no malice in his face when he said it, so I set my concerns aside as a problem for future Kevin.

The move itself went pretty smoothly and I was done with the bulk of it by Wednesday. All that was left was to unpack and put the finishing touches on the place. It was a sizable apartment with three bedrooms and decent living and kitchen space, probably more than I needed, but I figured I'd use the spare bedrooms for storage and hobbies. Between coding, computer repairs, and a growing collection of movies and comics, I definitely had the capacity to fill the space.

I went out to stock up on groceries Wednesday evening, and when I came back, the place felt different. Nothing had been moved, but there was a foreign presence lurking somewhere. I immediately went downstairs to check with the doorman, who reported no strange visitors and reassured me that the neighborhood was usually pretty safe, so I figured it was just the stress of the move getting to me. However, as I made dinner that night, I couldn't shake the feeling I was being watched.

After eating, I decided to throw in a movie to try to set myself at ease. I picked "Alien," which isn't exactly a calming movie to watch, but I'd seen it too many times to find it scary anymore. In fact, there was something kind of nice watching all the drama knowing Ripply and her cat would get their well-earned rest in the end. I'd gotten to the scene where Kane starts choking on his food when I thought I heard something behind me. I paused the movie.

"Hello," I said looking around the apartment. No response. Not that a serial killer would answer anyway. At that point, I was starting to freak out a little, but I brushed it off as just the movie. I pressed play and at the exact moment the alien baby burst from Kane's chest, a shrill "Surprise," came out from behind me. I whirled around and, without thinking, nailed the intruder square in the face, knocking him to the floor. He cursed as my fist connected to his nose and I could just make out the familiar black outline of one Jack fucking Dante as he fell.

"Why did you do that," he whined, clutching his nose which was now gushing blood.

"Dude! You broke into my house," I said, exasperated. "How was I supposed to know you weren't some burglar?"

"I told you I had a surprise," he said, smearing a bloody streak across his face. "Ow." I got up and grabbed some paper towels, forcing one into his hand. He looked bewildered for a moment, and I had to guide him to place it over his nose and hold pressure.

"A 'surprise' would be cupcakes on my desk on Monday morning." I took the other paper towels and started wiping up the blood that had dripped onto the hardwood floor. "This is a crime."

"But you were surprised, right," he asked through the wad of paper towels.

"That I was," I admitted. "I may also have shit my pants." He laughed and pulled the paper towel away to assess the bleeding. Another stream of blood made its way down his upper lip. "You still didn't have to hit me though."

"I don't know what to tell you, dude." I handed him another paper towel. "Play shitty games, win shitty prizes." I helped him up to his feet. "How did you even get my address anyway? I didn't tell anyone at work."

He made himself comfortable on the couch. "It wasn't hard. All I had to do was look in your records."

"I thought they kept those under lock and key."

"They keep the master copy under lock and key," he corrected. "But it's all accessible on CHAANK's digital database."

"Even so, only HR has the auth to view that stuff," I said.

"And that would be a problem if I was stupid, which I'm not." It figured he'd break into the database. He'd broken into my office and now my apartment. Why would a little thing like lack of authorization stand in the way? He blotted his nose again and sniffed. When he didn't feel the characteristic trickle of blood, he shoved the wadded up paper towel into his pocket. "Well, now that I'm here, what are we going to do?"

"We," I asked?

"Yea. I thought maybe we could do something fun."

"You broke into my apartment and now you want me to entertain you," I said, dryly. "You're lucky I don't call the fucking cops."

"You could," he said, musing. "And we could have a shoot out. That would be fun."

I sighed, resigned to the fact that he would leave on his own terms or not at all. "Or we could just watch the rest of 'Alien,'" I said. He nodded in approval and curled up on the couch. I pressed play and sat down next to him, wondering who I'd wronged to deserve such an absurd punishment.

"Ripley's so hot," he said, transfixed by the action in front of him. "Don't you think she's hot?"

"Yea. She's a good looking woman," I said, casually. Truthfully, Sigourney Weaver wasn't my type. I was just grateful he wasn't hot for the alien queen.

"Yea, but she's more than that. She's so…" he trailed off, grasping at the air as if to try to pull the right descriptor out of it, "...badass. I want to find someone like that."

"She'd probably kick your ass," I observed. I heard his breath hitch a little.

"You think so," he asked before swallowing hard. I was getting the sense he was a little too excited over the prospect of Sigourney Weaver kicking his ass and decided to change the subject.

"Yea. I mean you'd probably get killed by the alien before she got the chance though."

"No I wouldn't. I'm smart."

"Sure you're smart, but you're impulsive as fuck. You'd get the old facehugger special just like Kane for trying to get a closer look at the alien eggs."

He grimaced. "Kane's an idiot."

"No, he was curious and impulsive. And now he's dead. Ripley's the one being cautious and playing it safe, and, therefore, is not dead."

"She's not playing it safe. She's shooting at aliens."

"Only because her traitor coworker insisted on letting the infected teammate back on board. She was going to just leave them out of caution."

Jack sighed, irritably. "I guess," he said, slouching back into the couch.

At that point I got up to grab some snacks from the kitchen and offered him something to eat. He was initially disappointed that nothing I had resembled chicken tenders, but eventually settled for peanut butter on white bread.

After that, he was content to watch and comment on the movie and, other than a few moments of awkward sexual tension between him and Ripley, things went pretty smoothly. I didn't get a chance to see him to the lobby, as he left while I went to the bathroom with only "I'm leaving," shouted from across the apartment to announce his departure.