Author Notes: This was written for Brutal Business's Nathan/Charles month. It was posted under the name Onychophran if you want to look me up on LJ. The updates will be happening on LJ first, in case you were wondering. kirai_slasher, also from LJ, Beta'ed most of this. Praise goes to her, blame for typos goes to me.

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse, nor do I own any of the works of Gordon Korman whom I reference with alarming frequency.

Part one

While he had gone to Harvard Law, he hadn't exactly graduated at the top of his class. If you were feeling particularly generous you could say he graduated in the middle of his class. In the sense that if you weren't the top and you weren't the bottom then you were probably somewhere in the middle. But Harvard law was still Harvard law and he'd been able to find a job. Not as a lawyer, heavens no, he still couldn't pass the bar. No he was a clerk for a firm that specialized in copyright law. Not exactly the thrilling world of criminal defense he'd seen on TV but it paid the bills and allowed him to keep a small apartment in the city proper.

He was actually only a day away from taking the bar again and he'd decided to go out and relax. Cramming the night before an exam never really helped. You've already learned what you were going to learn and further cramming just made you stress. So he donned his good going out pants and went out for the evening.

He picked this cute little basement club, walking distance from his apartment. It had a beatnik feel and often featured experimental "performers". Last time Charles was here the "entertainment" had been a particularly hairy man reading avant-garde poetry in tune to his bongo playing. Still it was usually pretty relaxing and great for taking his mind off of things. He order a soda (you just don't drink before a big exam, even idiots know that) and sat down at the end of the bar to await the next act.

The band was called "Nuclear Teacup" and what happed next surprised almost everybody. The music started off normal, almost classical. It had an edgy bent to it but that was in keeping with the atmosphere. Then from the shadows stepped an oversized Specter of Death and he started to sing. Strike that, it wasn't singing so much as a melodic guttural scream. While impossible to make out any one phase, Charles is quite sure he hears the words death and guts repeated.

After only one song they are hurried off stage and replaced by an ageing flower child with a kazoo.

With only the background noise to distract him, his thoughts turn to his up coming exam and all the anxieties inherent in them. This will be his third try on the bar. It's not that Charles is dumb, it's more that he's unlucky. Exams always seem to ask the one question he doesn't know the answer to. Or he'll think he knows the answer but it turns out it was the wrong question. Charles doesn't know what's wrong with him. He's got a near genius IQ and he's no slacker but some how it seems he can never do anything right. It's a wonder he graduated law school in the first place.

Morosely Charles orders another soda and tries to be interested in the activities on stage. He finds himself nostalgic for the previous act and their dark Neanderthal.

Speak of the devil. The whole bar creaks as the giant sits down next to him. Up close Charles can see that the Specter of Death illusion is brought on by white pancake make up covering most of his face. The stringy black hair and the piercing green eyes are all natural though.

"Stupid jack off hippies," the Specter of Death murmurs into his newly ordered beer.

Charles turns toward him, preferring any company to the company of his own thoughts.

"Well, I thought you weren't half bad, almost hypnotic in a way."

Death turns to look at him for the first time and Charles feels strangely trapped under his gaze.

"The like owner dude didn't seem to think so."

"It doesn't mean you're not good, you're just not right for this club. How did you get this job anyway?"

Death scrunches up his face in a look of concentration. "I...uh think I hypnotized the planner chick."

Charles laughs. It stands to reason that death personified would be charming. How else would he talk so many people into sloughing off their mortal coil?

They get to talking and Charles finds Death to be good company. As it turns out death is named Nathan and he wants to form his own band. Nuclear Teacup is really a friend's band and he can't help but feel like he's screwing it up. He wants to play death metal instead of death avant-garde but he doesn't know where to start. Charles gives him his best lawyerly advice despite not being a real lawyer yet and is surprised at how easily it suddenly comes to him. For the first time since graduating he feels like he could actually be a good lawyer.

Charles has to leave early so he can get a good nights sleep for the exam. When Charles explains and gets up to leave Nathan grabs his hand. As he looks down at him Charles is again reminded of an otherworldly specter. Half expecting the world around him to disappear and fade into some haunted setting, Charles is surprise when Nathan merely wishes him luck.

The next day Charles takes his exam and passes with flying colors.