Deth Date

Rating:PG
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Nathan/Charles
Warnings: None. I know, I’m as metal as a gummi bear. I also help slugs off the sidewalk and publicly kiss my duck. Plllrrrrbbbt. :-P
Summary: Nathan needs a date for a Halloween gala.
Notes: The third of the donation fics for Pyro. This one is for deani_bean who wanted some Nathan/Charles luvvin’. This was originally meant to be a ficlet and turned into The Fic That Ate My Brain. I somehow suspect you won’t mind. ;-)

The theory that General Crozier is Charles’ father is mine alone. There is nothing in canon to support it. I just have a feeling. I also strongly suspect Charlie, Crozier and the Masked Assassin are all blood relations. Again there is nothing in canon to support this. It’s just a feeling I have.

I’ve always loved the song ‘Lola’ by the Kinks. It’s such a delightfully wonderfully sinagable song that came out in the seventies. Almost everybody has heard of it. Yet very few people seem to have ever really paid attention to the lyrics…

This story has an illustration by Animama

Nathan was sitting at the breakfast table, doling out the day’s mail while his band mates and manager ate.

“Bill, bill, bill, bill… what the fuck is with all these bills, Pickles? Looks like you went mental at a music store.”

Pickles looked puzzled. “I did? When did I do that?”

“I’m thinking it was during that time you got into the Absinthe and decided that what we needed was the world’s largest set of drums. Anyway you owe the Systole Drum Company like… thirty grand.”

Pickles raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Wonder what I bought?”

“I dunno but I hope it was worth it. Hey, here’s one for Toki. Looks like your pen pal sent you the photos you asked for of the airplane he flew in Viet Nam.”

“Oh, cools! Oh I can’ts waits to see!”

Nathan handed him the envelope, then looked at the one he was holding currently. “Hey this is for me. From my friend Artemis. She’s having a Halloween party at her art gallery and wants me to come.”

“Are you gonna go?” asked Pickles.

“Well yeah, I mean we’ve been friends since like… forever. I kinda have to. Any of you guys wanna come with me? Pickles, wanna come?”

“Ahhhh… naht really, Nathan. Sahry.”

“What about any of you other guys? Toki? Skwisgaar? Murderface?”

Murderface of course was affronted. “Hey how come you asked me last?”

Nathan fortunately managed to think on his feet for one of the few times in his life. “I was going by reverse alphabetical order.”

Murderface shrugged and accepted the explanation. “Nah that’sh cool man, art shows aren’t really my thing.”

Charles was busily scraping jam over his toast while he studied the week’s financial situation when he heard something he had never once heard at the breakfast table – his name.

“Charles. Wanna go to a party?”

Charles glanced up and blinked, absolutely shocked. Toki giggled as Charles gazed at Nathan in complete astonishment.

“Are you uh… okay?” Nathan asked.

“Apparently not,” said Charles. “I thought I heard my actual name attached to an invitation. Clearly I’m delusional.”

Nathan snorted, and grinned. “Come on, it will be fun. God knows there should be at least one person there who knows something about art. Will you come?”

“Nathan, you know I rarely say this to you boys… in fact I’ve never said this to you boys, but… well to be perfectly honest I’d rather be shot and pissed on.”

The five of them stared at their manager, dumbfounded. Then Pickles howled with laughter. Charles permitted himself a tiny smile as he returned to his books and breakfast, considering the matter closed.

“Please?” said Nathan.

Charles looked up, puzzled and, yes he had to admit, a bit apprehensive. This just felt too much like the time the prettiest girl in high school invited him to a party only to have him humiliated. Charles may have been able to kick ass, but he was still a nerd, and a wise nerd was a wary nerd.

“Why?”

Murderface leaned close to Pickles and said in a stage whisper; “The robot’sh getting shushpicious.”

Pickles munched toast. “Yeah? After living with us this long he should be downright paranoid.”

Nathan sighed. “I just thought… you know… it’s a nice party at an art gallery, none of these dildos wanna go, I don’t want to show up alone… so I’m asking you. You know what? Forget it. I’ll just go alone and stand there and look like a fucking moron.”

“Good lucks wit’ dat,” said Skwisgaar, daintily eating a crêpe. “Hey I likes dese, I never hads craps before.”

“I think you mean crêpes,” said Nathan.

“Is whats I said. Craps.”

Nathan just stared at Skwisgaar for a moment, then looked at Charles. “So… would you like to come?”

Charles considered, then decided to go for it. “Oh what the heck. Could be fun. I haven’t had a night out in….” He paused and thought, then shrugged. “Well it’s been a while.”

“Well there ya go,” said Murderface. “That’sh the shpirit. Make sure ya resherve your costume shoon or the good shtuff will be gone.”

“Costume?” inquired Charles.

“Yeah it’s a costume party,” said Pickles.

Charles was beginning to get the sinking feeling there was a very good reason none of the other band members were going.

“Are you goings to wear da costumes you is wore last year?” Toki asked Nathan.

“Nah, I can’t,” said Nathan. “Artemis said if I showed up as a giant zombie carrot again this year she was gonna introduce me to a giant zombie rabbit. She says I have to wear something I won’t be embarrassed to be caught passed out in.”

“What are you going to go as?” Pickles asked Charles.

“Be a zombie!” enthused Murderface.

“Zombie?” said Charles, dubious.

“Yeah well you’re always wandering around the halls looking for someone with a brain,” said Pickles. “Seems fitting.”

Charles laughed quietly. “I’m sure I will find something.”

Finding a costume proved harder than imagined. All the shops that rented costumes had nothing available save for the truly lame ones no one wanted. Charles would have been set if he wanted to be Minnie Mouse, a camel, a kitten, or one of the guys from Kiss. He briefly toyed with the notion of tacking legal papers all over his usual grey outfit and going as a Law Suit but that joke had fallen flat back in his college days. He couldn’t imagine what a gallery full of artists would make of it. He finally called his father.

“Dad what do I want to be for Halloween?”

General Crozier was mildly drunk and content. “Well wear your Superman outfit! You were so cute…”

“Dad, I was five.”

“You were still cute.”

“I need something a little more adult.”

“Wear a toga.”

“DA-AD!”

Crozier chuckled. “Well take a zipper, tie it to a string about three feet long and pull it around behind you. You can be a draggin’ fly. Get it?”

Charles sighed. “I’m not speaking to you anymore.”

Again Crozier chuckled. “Good night Charlie.”

Charles hung up, then glanced at his calendar. He had three days to think of something. Well he could always go as the manager of a rock band. Charles raised an eyebrow. Maybe he could buy a wig and go as Mini-Nathan.

Uhhhhh…. No.

“Oh come on, Ofdensen, think!” he reprimanded himself. “You were a child once upon a time! You must have had an imagination at some point in your life!”

He stood in his office and thought. Somewhere in the distance, a cricket chirped. He sighed and walked over to the door of his office and pulled it open, sticking his head out and spying Badger, their oldest and grouchiest roadie, in the hall.

“What do I want to be for Halloween?” Charles asked.

Badger was standing on a stepladder mending a faulty light. “You won’t be anything unless you clean your room, young man.”

“Seriously.”

Badger glanced at him. “Be a pirate.”

“A pirate?”

“Why the hell not, you already had a sword fight with a guy on top of the dragon’s head.”

“Thank you, I’d really rather not dwell on that.”

Badger sighed as he spliced wires. “Look, Charlie, Halloween parties are supposed to be fun. Get yourself a nice double-breasted pin stripe, some spats, a full length coat and a slouch hat and be a gangster. Problem solved.”

So Charles was a gangster. He knew a guy who had a friend who had another friend who was the second cousin to a guy who collected mob memorabilia, and bought an outfit that had once graced an undistinguished hit man in the days of Capone named Vito Pastrami. Charles couldn’t help but feel just the smallest bit bad for the guy. He not only had a name suited to a comic-book gangster, but his dad made violin cases. No violins, just the cases. Vito’s inglorious and unmarked career as a hit man came to an abrupt end on his first hit, when his tommy gun misfired. Vito’s tan vicuna coat sported three bullet holes over the left breast, testimony to his intended victim’s marksmanship. The only reason Charles could bear to wear the coat was because Vito had not died in it. Vito had survived his injuries, only to die of a heart attack while eating cannollis four months later.

Vito Pastrami, the world’s unluckiest hit man. Well he may be gone, but his suit would live on to become a Halloween costume for an accountant. Charles could almost hear him rolling his eyes in Mob Heaven. Still Charles couldn’t fault Vito’s taste in clothing; the vicuna coat and grey pinstripe suit were gorgeous. Charles adjusted his fedora, deciding he was quite pleased with his costume, and went into the hall to meet Nathan. That was when the night began to go sideways for Charles.

Nathan was nothing short of magnificent.

He had decided to be a vampire, and it was a look he pulled off beautifully. He was dressed in a traditional black suit with a full length satin cape and gold cross-shaped medallion around his neck, much as Bella Lugosi had worn when he made the role of Dracula famous, but Nathan had added his own personal touches. His long black hair was oiled to make it gleam nearly blue-black, and the pits of his eyes were suitably darkened with corpse-paint, his skin tinted a deathly grey. He had in upper and lower fangs worthy of a Hollywood movie, attached properly to his already impressive canines, and to complete the effect he had in black contact lenses to make his eyes into reflections of evil.

Charles couldn’t help but feel a little inadequate.

“You look great,” said Nathan.

“Yeah I was just thinking the same thing about you,” said Charles.

There was a strained silence, and some discomfort that took both a little off-guard. They were not used to feeling uneasy around each other. Charles drew a breath.

“Well… let’s be off.”

“You kids be home by eleven!” called Pickles.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Nathan dismissively. He glanced at Charles. “I thought we’d take the limo,” he said, his voice quiet. That tension returned.

“All right,” said Charles, not liking the strangeness. He was a man who liked to keep his emotions firmly under control and out of sight, and this uncertainty was stressful. They drove to the art gallery, saying little. Nathan seemed distracted the entire trip, and Charles just let him be. They finally pulled up to the gallery after what felt like the longest limo ride in history, and Charles stepped out of the limo after it came to a halt in the parking lot, gazing at the large old Brownstone building before him.

“It’s huge.”

“Yeah,” said Nathan. “Artemis owns it along with a few other artists, and they show some really famous people, along with people who might not ever get a chance to have their stuff seen.”

“How is the gallery doing?”

“Really well,” said Nathan, getting out of the limo himself. “I know she gets a lot of crap about how since we’re friends that I must be supporting her, but the truth is she did it all herself.”

“That’s an unusual name, Artemis.”

“She changed it. Used to be Kathy.”

They walked up the wide sweeping stairs of the gallery and into the building, where Nathan was promptly pounced on by a short boyish-looking woman with a brush cut. She was as dressed Rum Tum Tugger from ‘Cats’.

“Nathan! Baby ya came! And ya brought a date!”

Date?

Nathan returned the hug, grinning, then set her down. “Artemis this is Charles. Charles, Artemis.”

Artemis turned to face Charles with large brown eyes. “Hi! Nice to meet you.”

“Hello,” said Charles. “Nathan has told me a great deal about you.”

“Oh you’re cute as a bug!” gushed Artemis. “Where did you meet Nathan?”

“Actually I manage De…”

“He managed to run into me at a club,” said Nathan, deftly interjecting himself into the conversation.

It was true enough – Charles had met Dethklok and consequently Nathan at a club, but not quite in the manner he was implying.

Oh someone was going to get his big metal ass kicked.

“Nathan may I speak to you alone for a moment?” asked Charles in that polite tone that let him know he had screwed up.

“In a moment, honey.”

Oh he was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO getting his ass kicked.

Nathan and Artemis talked for a bit while Charles fumed, then she bounced off to greet a new guest. Slowly Nathan turned to face Charles, who was glaring at him from behind his glasses.

“Nathan,” said Charles in a tightly controlled tone, “What did you tell her?”

“Nothing,” said Nathan. “I said I was bringing a friend, nothing else.”

“Then why does she appear to be under the impression that I am your date?”

“It’s a gay party, of course she’s gonna assume you’re my date.”

Charles’ eyes widened, and then he looked around the gallery, studying the people around him. Then his attention snapped back to Nathan.

“I am so not talking to you.”

“Relax, Charles.”

“I was denied vital information.”

“It’s just a party, I didn’t realize you were so like… anti-gay… or something.”

“I am not anti-gay nor am I homophobic, but if I ever get a mad urge to date a man I’d like to know that’s what I’m doing!”

Nathan seemed confused. “Are you angry?”

“Yes! I am angry! Is this why no one else would come with you?”

“Um… no, actually,” admitted Nathan. “I… asked them not to come. Because… I wanted you to come.”

Charles blinked. “I’m sorry, I think my brain just shorted out. Are you saying that you arranged with the other guys to trick me into going on a date with you?”

Nathan seemed to cringe slightly. “It… didn’t sound so bad when we came up with the idea. I’m sorry. I just wanted you to come and I didn’t think you would if you knew it was a date. I just… didn’t think.”

No Nathan never did think, that was the whole problem. But… if he said he was sorry then he was. Charles exhaled quietly and released his anger.

“It’s okay. No harm done. Let’s just… try to enjoy the party.”

Nathan nodded. “Okay. I… I really am sorry, Charles.”

“It’s all right Nathan, but I do wish you had just asked. Let’s just try to have fun. I haven’t been to a party that wasn’t related to business in years, I’d like to enjoy myself.”

It was easier said than done.

The evening started well enough. After meeting Artemis he met her significant other, Rhonda, and their mutual friend Nigel, who ran a small art supplies shop. Nathan introduced Charles, and as Nigel shook his hand, he gave him a look that implied he had seen Charles before, he just wasn’t sure where.

“What’s your last name?” asked Nigel.

“Ofdensen.”

Nigel’s eyes became huge and he clasped Charles’ hand with both of his own. “Oh my god! You’re Charles Ofdensen? As in I Manage Dethklok Ofdensen?”

Nathan may have been used to dealing with squiggling squeaking fans, but it was a new experience for Charles.

“Yes, I manage Dethklok,” said Charles warily.

Nigel let out a squeal of delight that could have cut glass and clutched Charles’ hand as he dropped to his knees. Charles looked towards Nathan for help, but Nathan was suddenly very interested in the ceiling tiles, grinning toothily. Nigel continued with his unabashed worship.

“Oh my god an angel must have sent you! I know you’re off duty and you do this shit all day every day and the last thing you want to do is come to a party and do it some more…” Nigel drew a long gasp of breath. “But my shop is bleeding money and if I show you my books do you think…?”

“Oh what the heck,” said Charles. “Why not.”

Nigel shrieked and went flying out of the gallery like a bullet from a gun. Charles looked at Nathan.

“Accounting groupies,” said Charles. “Who would have thought?”

“Hey, after the lake troll nothing surprises me.”

Nigel the Bullet came firing back into the gallery, carrying his books. He charged up to Charles and stopped, dropping to one knee, head bowed in submission, presenting him with the ledgers. Charles accepted them, then looked at Nathan.

“So is this what it’s like to be you?” asked Charles.

“Oh absolutely. I’ll prove it.” Nathan looked at Artemis. “Fetch me a drink, wench.”

She poked her tongue out and blew a raspberry at him.

“See?” said Nathan. “I have women falling all over themselves to do my bidding.”

Nigel’s commotion was attracting attention, and people began wandering over to see what the fuss was, including a skinny, dried-up looking woman with one of those perpetually pissed off expressions that put Charles in mind of Rebecca. She was accompanied by a small entourage of three skinny disinterested toy-boys who seemed bored with everyone and everything. Charles opened the ledger, pushed his glasses up his nose, and pulled out of the inner pocket of his suit, where once upon a time Vito Pastrami had kept a gold cigarette case, the calculator from hell. One of his own design, housed in a black and gold case and capable of calculating the launch of a rocket ship or the trajectory of a planet. Nigel raised a hand to his brow and feigned a swoon.

“The man has his own calculator. I’m in love. Father my children, please.”

Charles had no idea how to deal with that statement, so he just kept looking through the ledgers, running a few calculations. Within minutes he had an answer for Nigel.

“Well, what you appear to have is a moderately clever embezzler. They’re stealing tiny amounts from each sale, and… it appears they’re also into your inventory. They’re not taking large amounts at a time, but they’re stealing consistently. A box of expensive paints here, few canvases there, bit of money over here… you have a mouse in your pantry. None of these things are enough to attract attention, but over time the damage builds up. I think you need a word with your staff.”

Nigel accepted his ledgers back, and turned to look at the skinny displeased-looking woman watching the interaction.

“I suppose I do,” he said pointedly, then turned to Charles once more, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” said Charles.

Nigel sprinted off with his ledgers, and Nathan leaned close to Charles. “See I can’t take you anywhere. Everywhere I go people are throwing themselves at you. Accountants get all the action. What the hell do I bother standing on stage whipping my head around for?”

“Well you know what they say,” said Charles, looking pleased with himself. “They really go crazy ‘bout a sharp-dressed man.”

Nathan leaned close, and for a moment Charles thought he was going to kiss him. He felt a cold jolt of panic shoot through his body and he pulled back, uncertain how to deal with the move. Nathan withdrew as well, the discomfort returned, and the pair stood side by side in strained silence.

After that the night seemed to go downhill. There were four people in particular who seemed determined to make Charles’ night horrid, none other than Tina Withers, the woman who may have been embezzling from Nigel’s shop and her three male companions, and they manifested every time Charles was alone for a moment. He was doing his best to ignore them, but slowly as the night progressed they were working their way under his skin. Charles liked to behave as if his emotions were in control at all times, but the truth was his feelings were very easily hurt and this was upsetting him badly. In a physical fight he could defend himself with machine-like ease and precision, but this was not physical, this was emotional. Nathan didn’t appear to notice what was going on, but he was not the one getting the glares, the bone-jarring body-checks thinly disguised as “accidental” encounters, and the snide little remarks about ‘poseurs’.

If Charles’ evening was a nightmare, Nathan’s was not. He was obviously having fun. He knew nearly everyone there, and many of the people were clearly friends as opposed to fawning hangers-on. He was, in fact, the ideal date, and it gave Charles considerable insight into how he almost always seemed to end up going out with women who were truly sweet and genuinely interested in him as a person as opposed to a rock star – Nathan Explosion was actually a nice guy. It was a revelation that had Charles utterly gob-smacked. He was charming, considerate, and attentive. It was a side of him Charles had never seen, and he found himself warming up to the ‘date’ idea. In fact Nathan was the only reason Charles hadn’t left hours ago.

“Who are you and what did you do with my lead singer?” asked Charles as Nathan appeared with a glass of champagne and a small plate of delicacies for him to nibble.

“He’s throwing up in the alley,” said Nathan.

“Now that I believe,” said Charles, accepting the plate. He and Nathan were perusing the art, some of which was so breathtaking that he found himself lost in it utterly, and he bought three pieces to hang in his personal quarters. Some of it however was pseudo-intellectual bullshit that would likely end up in the trash by the end of the month. Charles paused to look at a piece by Tina Withers, one of the four people who were making it their mission to ruin his night. He stared at the piece disdainfully, appalled by what appeared to be a collection of dead animals and a wad of worm-like things stuck to a bed sheet soaked in clots of black and red paint. The title of the piece was ‘Abortion’.

“That… is repugnant,” said Charles. “This woman is clearly disturbed. This is not art, it’s public masturbation by someone who likes to view themselves as an intellectual, and it is not only ugly and pretentious, it smells awful.”

“She used real bird entrails,” said Nathan.

Charles felt his stomach roll. “Charming. I suppose it has some deep meaning that I am far too pedestrian to grasp.”

“The sign at the bottom says it represents the futility of life.”

“I think it represents road kill, personally,” muttered Charles.

Nathan grinned. “I wish Skwisgaar was here. Do you remember that time we were invited to a party in LA at the home of that artist who did the modern art?”

“How can I forget. I ended up Pickle-sitting.”

Nathan grinned a little more widely. “Well Skwisgaar, Toki and I were looking at this… piece. And… I gotta tell you if I saw it on the side of the road I would think someone ran over a lawnmower. And we’re standing there, staring at this thing, and Skwisgaar, who is totally drunk off his ass, looks at Toki, and says loudly “You see, Little Tokis, dis is da difference betweens traditionals arts an’ modern arts. Traditionals art is in da minds of the beholder, modern arts is in da wallet ofs da dildo who pays da ten grands for da rebuild vacuum cleaner.” You could practically hear the sudden clench of three dozen sphincters.” Nathan chuckled evilly.

Charles grinned broadly. “I think I just fell in love with that man.”

“Yeah he has his moments.” Nathan gently placed his large hand on the small of Charles’ back, causing Charles’ whole body to suddenly go warm and tingly. “Let’s go look at this piece over here.”

They walked over to a second piece of modern sculpture, which at first didn’t impress Charles in the least. It looked like a heap of rusting machine parts welded together, and boasted the pretentious name of ‘Kaleidoscope’. It was mounted on a slowly rotating pedestal.

“This is one of Rhonda’s pieces,” said Nathan.

Charles stared at the thing and desperately tried to think of something nice to say about it. After all he was getting quite fond of Rhonda. No matter how some people were behaving, Rhonda and Artemis had quickly won Charles’ affection, and he noticed the abuse stopped whenever they showed up. He stared at the monument to rusted scrap metal, then suddenly realized that, as the sculpture slowly turned, images could be seen, but only appeared for the briefest moments and only when the pile of metal was viewed at exactly the right instant. Lost within the tangle of springs, windshield wipers, lawn mower blades and hedge clippers, were deer grazing, birds flying, horses running, people walking, a little girl flying a kite, a swimming moose, and butterflies. He stared at it, lost in wonder at the skill required to create such a thing.

“It’s so amazing!” Charles said quietly.

“It’s not painted yet,” said Nathan. “She didn’t have time before the party.”

“It’s fantastic, even unpainted. It’s the most amazing piece in here.”

He was suddenly aware of Tina’s presence beside him. “Well have you seen my piece?” she asked, indicating the foul-smelling monstrosity on the sheet.

“Yeah we saw it,” said Nathan.

“I like to create in the nude, you know,” she said archly, as if bestowing the wisdom of the ages. “Or in my underwear. I feel it just frees up expression.” She stared down her nose at Charles. “Do you paint?”

“He was just about to ask you the same question,” said Nathan.

“No, I don’t paint,” said Charles, grimacing as Nathan was distracted by Artemis and went to see what she was doing.

“Well do you do anything creative?” Tina asked archly, then flicked her hand dismissively into his face. “Oh I forgot, you’re an accountant.”

Charles ground his teeth as Tina turned her back on him and walked away. Nathan returned just then with Rhonda and Artemis.

“So how long have you and Nathan been together?” asked Rhonda, helping herself to one of Charles’ stuffed mushroom caps. She was dressed as a purple octopus. Charles drew a steadying breath, willing himself to not let Tina irritate him.

“Actually, this is our very first date.”

Artemis’ eyes grew huge, and she uttered a sharp squeak of delight before she went tearing off to a small stage where a small band had been playing only minutes before. Charles looked at Nathan.

“Did you say she changed her name to Artemis?”

Nathan nodded.

“Why Artemis?”

Nathan grinned, fangs on display. “She actually meant ‘Nemesis’ but by the time she realized she had chosen the wrong name it was too late.”

“Ah. Wee bit of a dip, is she?”

Nathan smiled and held up his right hand, indicating a distance of about an inch between his thumb and forefinger. Rhonda clobbered him with a tentacle.

“How long have you known her?” asked Charles.

Nathan thought. “Well since I was fourteen so… fourteen years. We used to get high together after football games.”

Artemis finally got the microphone to work. “Ladies and gentlemen and undecideds, I have a little announcement.” She squeaked and hopped with delight. “This is Nathan and Charlie’s very first date! Isn’t that cool?”

Charles grimaced and made a small noise of pain, then looked at Nathan. “You realize this is going to be all over the Dethklok Minute.”

“I’ll just tell them you got me drunk and took advantage of me.”

“Well that’s just swell,” muttered Charles, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“And now,” continued Artemis, “Nathan and I, in keeping with tradition, will sing.”

Someone in the crowd shrieked in horror. Artemis glared at him.

“Hush you, or we’ll do an encore as well. Pass me my guitar.”

Charles looked at Nathan. “You and she sing together?”

“It’s kind of a tradition,” said Nathan. He passed Charles his glass. “Be afraid.”

“Trust me, I am.”

Nathan strode through the crowd and up to the stage, where he was joined by the rest of the little band that had been playing for the party. Charles looked at Rhonda.

“I’m almost afraid to ask what they’re going to perform.”

Rhonda grinned. “Be afraid. Be very afraid.” She sat on a table and patted a spot beside her for Charles to sit. He joined her.

Nathan stepped onto the stage, a gigantic, intimidating figure that seemed even more so in the spotlight. Charles watched all this with curiosity, then felt a cold thread of fear in his gut as Artemis played the opening bars to a song he knew far too well on her acoustic guitar. There were whoops and cheers as Nathan lowered his head and began to sing in a quiet, hate-filled snarl.

I met her in a club down in old Soho,
Where you drink champagne and it tastes just like cherry cola.
C-o-l-a cola
She walked up to me and she asked me to dance,
I asked her her name and in a dark brown voice she said Lola.
L-o-l-a Lola lo-lo-lo-lo Lola

“You have got to be kidding me,” said Charles.

Rhonda was positively snorting with amusement. “Oh it gets better, believe me.”

Nathan kept singing, eyes burning, exuding that fearsome stage presence that had made him great.

Well I’m not the worlds most physical guy,
But when she squeezed me tight she nearly broke my spine.
Oh my Lola lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
Well I’m not dumb but I cant understand,
Why she walked like a woman and talked like a man.
Oh my Lola lo-lo-lo-lo Lola lo-lo-lo-lo Lola

“That,” said Charles, as Rhonda continued to snort and giggle, “has to be the single most threatening version of ‘Lola’ I have ever heard in my life.”

Well we drank champagne and danced all night,
Under electric candlelight.
She picked me up and sat me on her knee,
And said dear boy wont you come home with me?
Well I’m not the world’s most passionate guy,
But when I looked in her eyes well I almost fell for my Lola.
Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
Lola lo-lo-lo-lo Lola lo-lo-lo-lo Lola

I pushed her away,
I walked to the door,
I fell to the floor,
I got down on my knees.
Then I looked at her and she at me.

Well that’s the way that I want it to stay,
And I always want it to be that way for my Lola.
Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
Girls will be boys and boys will be girls,
It’s a mixed up muddled up shook up world except for Lola.
Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola

Well I left home just a week before,
And I’d never ever kissed a woman before.
But Lola smiled and took me by the hand,
And said dear boy I’m gonna make you a man.

Well I’m not the worlds most masculine man,
But I know what I am and I’m glad I’m a man,
And so is Lola.
Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
Lola lo-lo-lo-lo Lola lo-lo-lo-lo Lola

By the time they were done, Charles and Rhonda both were nearly in hysterics.

“I never heard a more frightening or intimidating rendition of ‘Lola’ in my life!” said Charles.

“Wasn’t that great?” said Rhonda. “They do it every year and it never fails to crack me up.” She looked at her plate, then Charles’. “We need more munchies. I’ll get them.”

Charles watched Rhonda head off through the crown, purple tentacles dragging behind her. No sooner was she out of hearing range than the four people who had been making Charles’ entire night Hell appeared. Mentally he rolled his eyes. Funny how some people never left high school.

“So what do you do?” Tina asked. “I mean you’re not an artist, obviously.”

“Well I did say I wasn’t an artist. I manage a band, actually.”

“Oh yeah.” She snorted. “Have I heard of them?”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, have you heard of Dethklok?”

One of the men slunk off, closely followed by his companion. Apparently the mouse they were picking on had turned out to be a bigger lion than they cared to trifle with. Tina’s boy-toy fidgeted nervously, but stayed.

“Oh yeah,” said Tina, unimpressed. “Well I suppose if you have no actual talent then hanging around successful people makes for a pretty good substitute.”

Charles clenched his teeth and swallowed hard, hurt by the remark but not about to be intimidated by it. He’d had as much of this bitch as he cared to tolerate.

“I have talent,” he said. “In fact I have a shitload of talent. I. Manage. Dethklok. I manage the twelfth largest financial power on the planet. I run a small country. There is the household to run, with a total of fifteen hundred employees, and that is just the house, that’s not counting the offices in Norway, Australia, France, Brazil, and Canada. There are financial records to track, investments to look after, tour dates to book, and, after I deal with all that, there are teddy bears to track, skittish guitar players to placate, personal disputes to mediate, allergies to keep track of, sleeping arrangements to be made for when we are on the road… did you know Toki will not sleep in a bed facing east? Will. Not. Full stop. Won’t do it. Who do you think has to call the hotels and find out what direction the beds face?”

He slipped off the table and came to stand before Tina, eyes blazing. “I have talent,” he repeated quietly. “And I don’t have to stand in a loft in my underwear drinking Absinthe while hurling duck guts at cheap canvas to convince myself of it. I run an empire. I sleep in a four hundred year old hand carved inlayed bed in a castle. You rob a small business to be able to afford to make pretentious shit no one wants to buy.” He stepped closer, getting nose to nose with her, and snarled quietly; “I think we both know who the ‘poseur’ is here.”

Charles turned and walked away, leaving the room, striding out of the gallery and heading for the limo. He flung open the door and got in, slamming the door after himself. He needed to hide. He needed to gather himself. He took off his glasses and balled his hands into fists, pressing them against his eyes as he rocked back and forth, trying to gather himself. He hated being so emotional, he could do complex equations in his head but some nothing cow at a party calls him talentless and he’s off crying in the limo like a spoiled debutant.

The door opened and Nathan got in. Oh well that was just fabulous, now Nathan knew he was sitting here crying. Just want he wanted.

“Charles? You okay?”

“No I am not okay! I haven’t been okay all evening! I have been pushed, insulted and embarrassed. I have had to justify my existence to people who aren’t worth the effort it would take for me to spit on them, spent the better part of the night feeling very much not welcome, all for the pleasure of being on a date that I didn’t even realize I was on! I never wanted to be a fifteen year old girl so bad in my life because I would dearly love to just scream in your face ‘take me home NOW!’”

Nathan pulled the door to the limo shut. “Okay. We’re gone.”

Charles stared at Nathan in shock. “Just like that?”

“Look I might not have had the balls to actually ask you to go out with me but I’m not going to leave you in the car all upset. I don’t do shit like that. I’m sorry the night sucked. I wanted you to have fun. Who was it who upset you? It was Tina and her little entourage, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, I don’t mind admitting.”

“Yeah figured. I’ll let Artemis know. She pulled the same game on Rebecca when we were still together. Or tried to.” Nathan grinned.

“And what did you do?”

“I went and hid in the limo. You think I wanna be anywhere near those two while they’re tearing a strip of each other? No way.”

The limo pulled away from the gallery and exited the parking lot, making its way for the highway to take them home. Moments later Nathan’s phone rang and he answered it.

“Hey Artie. Yeah Tina pulled her little bitch game with Charles so we’re leaving.” Pause. “Yeah well it’s not your fault.” Pause. “I’ll tell you why she does it, she does it because she thinks if she chases off every person I show any interest in I will eventually ask her out, which won’t happen because I only date humans.” Pause. “Yeah well I’ll ask. Gimme a minute.”

Charles watched Nathan with curiosity as he closed his phone.

“Ask me what?”

Nathan turned to Charles. “Artemis says she’s sorry about Tina and wants to know if you will please come back because it will give her an excuse to toss the bitch and her posse out on their hack asses.”

“Well… I can’t refuse such a generous offer, can I?”

Nathan leaned close, slipping his hand under Charles’ coat, coming to rest on his side. “I’m sorry. I wanted you to have a fun evening. I should have just been honest with you.”

“Yes, you should have.”

The limo began heading back for the gallery. Nathan edged closer, eyes narrowed as he grinned like a predator.

“So if you were a fifteen year old girl what would you be screaming right now?”

“Well I don’t know what she would be screaming, but as your lawyer I can tell you what I would be screaming.”

Nathan shifted even closer. Charles drew back, nervous and uncertain. Nathan moved closer still, and Charles continued to draw back, until… his back hit the seat. Nathan was now effectively on top of him.

“This is not going as planned,” said Charles, staring up at a very large rock star poised over top of him. “Oh… dear…. Uh… Nathan? You’re… pressing… someplace I would really rather you didn’t press.”

Nathan adjusted his weight, then grinned. “I’m sorry the night didn’t work out for you. Maybe… I can make it up to you.”

Charles stared at him sourly. “Is this point in the evening where I have to slap your face?”

“Well no bad date is complete without a little inept fumbling in the back seat. You uh… don’t strike me as the sort of guy who… puts out on a first date.”

“You’re right, I’m not. Especially not on bad first dates that I didn’t know I was going on in the first place.”

“Damn. Oh well, may as well go for having my face slapped then.”

Nathan leaned forward and kissed Charles very softly and gently, raising one hand to caress his face, then lowered his head to nuzzle at his neck. Charles draped his arms around Nathan’s neck, hugging him.

“That was nice,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry the night wasn’t better. I really wanted you to have fun.”

“Well maybe it will be all right. Tina will be gone when we get back. I mean it can’t get any worse.” Charles eyes became large and worried as he felt nibbling at his throat. “Nathan? What are you up to?”

“Well I was just thinking, um… you know… I’m a vampire, and… you have a really nice neck.”

Charles’ eyes became even wider. He put his hands on Nathan’s shoulders and pushed him back. “Don’t even think about it, Explosion! Not even for a second! Do. Not!”

“Aw come on, what’s a little hickey between friends?”

“DON’T! Nathan, I am serious!”

“Aw come on.”

“No!” Charles tried to fend him off, laughing a little despite himself. “Nathan Explosion you behave yourself this instant!”

Nathan growled and parted his jaws, baring massive fangs, and made straight for Charles’ neck.

A few minutes later the limo parked before the gallery once more. The door opened, and Nathan stepped out with a visible handprint on the side of his face. Moments later he was followed by Charles, the collar of his coat pulled up to hide what was quite possibly the largest hickey ever caused by something that was not a giant squid.

“This is the worst date of my life,” muttered Charles, blushing furiously.

“It could be worse,” said Nathan, and grinned. “I could have let Murderface ask you out.”