[skipton] back home | charlie

“Be my guest, you can answer to your wife when she shows up to arrest you.” Charlie grinned.

“Oh, right.” He nodded softly once, avoiding Kendrick’s gaze. “Drinking less, you mean? Like without her around?” He chanced a glance up at the older man. That made sense. He knew it did. But he couldn’t live his life cooped up in the confines of his apartment forever. Or with Kate twenty-four-seven. As much as he loved her, and he did love her, he needed his space. It wasn’t that he deliberately ditched Kate for other women. It was usually along the lines of her being elsewhere, or busy, or tired, and he wanted to go out rather than sit around waiting for her. He’d decide to go to the pub or to Liam’s or just for a mindless amble around London, and always ended up walking to the same places where he shouldn’t be going.

Charlie picked up his glass and swirled around the last inch or so of liquid in the bottom, listening to Ken’s sage advice. As the severity of everything began to sink in, his face fell more drawn. He shouldn’t have brought up Christmas at all, they’d been having a good time before Charlie had ruined it with his tales of self-inflicted woe. His brown eyes flicked up to look Ken in the eye and he smiled, somewhat sadly. “You’re right.” He said finally, taking a deep drink to finish his beer.

The musician stood and took his empty glass with him back towards the bar. He slid it onto the surface towards the barman and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, taking out a few muggle notes. “An Irish Carbomb please, mate. And whatever this tosser wants me to drink.” He smirked, handing the cash over and leaning up on the bar. “So what else is new with you? And Jo?” He waved off the change from the barman and gestured towards the tip jar. “Any plans for toerags yet?”

"Shhhh, this is too low-level for her very professional skills," he shushed his friend. It was true; he'd probably get a visit from Musgrove, or someone like that. The old man seemed content with his complete lack of promotions for the past fifty-eight years.

"Something like that," he nodded. "It doesn't have to be her all the time, you know. You can even drag me out the next time if you're not too embarrassed," he laughed. He didn't exactly know where Charlie found these people, but he suspected it was higher energy than this pub they liked, and he suspected he would look like an idiot. But he might stop Charlie from doing something he'd regret. It was about all he had left on offer, but he didn't take it personally when he got turned down.

Kendrick frowned as his antics only gently nudged Charlie's expression. He couldn't really blame him, it was serious stuff they were talking about. Following Charlie to the bar, he winced as the barman started pouring whiskey and Baileys in a shot glass. The point about glasses, and consequently ingredients, stood; Charlie definitely had the upper hand here. He sighed, then shrugged. "I want him to drink a Sex on the Beach but any concoction you can make with juice and/or fruit liquor will do. No need for it to look good," he added with a wink. The old barman did not seem impressed by his charm, but he didn't tell him to shove off, either. The tip probably helped.

"Not much," he shrugged. "Jo's applying for head of DMLE. We've been tossing about the idea of having kids, but it'll probably have to wait a bit if she gets the job. Bo's basically a 'toerag' anyway," he laughed. His drink arrived unceremoniously, the shot dropped into it in front of his face. "Did I mention I hate you?" he asked as he picked it up, getting about four mouthfuls in before spluttering and having to put it down. "Charlie, this is downright disgusting," he said, with an unattractive burp, forcing a few more mouthfuls in. He blinked a few times, feeling a little dizzy. "Gonna take me home if I die?"

“Right, yeah.” Charlie nodded, his expression slowly shifting into an awkward kind of grin as Ken distracted him. “I think I can handle you. Can meet you in Manchester, if that doesn’t offend you as much as crossing ‘the border’ to go into Sheffield.” He joked. He was really only bluffing -- as much as he enjoyed these catch ups with the older man, Charlie knew damn well that if he was going to go out with the intention to misbehave (even though he knew he shouldn’t), he wasn’t going to be stupid enough to invite someone like Ken along with him for the ride. Besides, he didn’t plan these things -- they just happened. Still, he supposed if he wanted to just get out of the house, perhaps going to the pub with someone like Kendrick was more sensible than someone like Liam. Kate would undoubtedly approve of the Lancastrian -- he was leagues above some of Charlie’s other friends, and he was more into pubs than clubs.

Charlie’s brief stint as a bartender meant he wasn’t a stranger to cocktails, unlike the man behind the bar here appeared to be. Not that he blamed him -- they were in a rural town, not a cosmopolitan city. The musician glanced around at the clientele and giggled quietly, unable to help himself, trying to picture anyone in here with something described as ‘fruity’. He turned back towards the barman and tried to stifle his expression, clearing his throat. “Just whatever you want, mate. I’ll drink it.”

As their drinks were poured, Charlie began picking at his fingernails, listening. He lifted his head to raise his eyebrows at Ken, “Head like, Department Head? Bit young for that, isn’t she?” He paused, eyes rolling skywards as he mentally tallied up the years and shrugged, “I s’pose you guys are a bit older.” He smiled and looked at the as-yet-untainted Guinness waiting for Ken. “I dunno whether to hope she doesn’t get the job so you can have kids or hope that she does so you can put it off a bit longer,” he smirked. “I assume you’re at least still allowed to ‘practice’?” 

The barman slid Charlie’s concoction towards him at the same time as he dropped the shot glass into Kendrick’s pint. “You love me.” He grinned and picked up the glass full of orange-red-pink liquid, and took a sip. He lowered it for a second, licking his lips and tasting, shrugged and carried on drinking as Ken attempted to do the same. “This is alright actually,” he smirked. “Yeah, I’ll get you home safe, don’t worry.” He drank deeply, wanting to beat Ken, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, blinking a little, then shook his head and frowned. “Ugh, I take it back. Way too much sugar.”

“You want another round?”

"Oh, and here I thought you were fancying it up in London," Kendrick rolled his eyes. "You do know we've been living here for the last three years, right?" Location wasn't the kind of thing he was about to argue with his wife about--she'd done most of the picking, he'd just contributed 'two stories?' and 'backyard for pup?' He nodded with a shrug as Charlie questioned his wife's career ambitions. "Yep, and yeah, I guess so. Hey," he gave Charlie a warning look, "she's only a year older than you, you know," he pointed out. A year and a few months made two years in school, but it was still closer to a year. "But I guess the Ministry has had a lot of turnover in the past few years, and Kingsley trusts her and all." He supposed it was a kind of shadowy nepotism if you thought about it, but that wasn't a new thing around the Ministry. He rolled his eyes again with a deep sigh. "No comment," he laughed. "I guess I hope she gets it, because I'd be a terrible husband if I didn't, huh?"

"Uh huh," he said sarcastically in the direction of Charlie's grin. Through the brief spinning in front of his eyes, he squinted. "Told you so," he announced, then frowned when the younger man took it back. "No takebacks," he insisted. "Sugar is good for you, it feeds the soul. Like literally, why do you think chocolate's a remedy for.........scary things," he settled on, in lieu of dementors. Struggling with a few more gulps, he shook his head violently. "Hell no," he said emphatically, banging the glass on the bar. There was still a bit left over, but it had started to curdle and Kendrick wrinkled his nose. "Creepy. Also, not telling my mum I drank something named that," he added as an afterthought.

He yawned, leaning on his elbows on the bar. "I think I'm done for today," he clarified. "I gotta get back, Jo has an early morning." The thought of Apparating like this made his gurgling stomach turn. "I might walk," he concluded with a groan, although not seriously. It was too far for that, but it might be a good idea to walk part ofo the way. He pushed off from the bar onto his feet, managing a slightly wan smile. "You good? I'll see you soon?"

Charlie grinned lazily, his eyes beginning to adopt the tell-tale glaze of someone under the influence. “You know me, mate, always fancy.”

The musician shrugged. “Not my fault if I’ve never been invited over, is it?” He pulled a face, as though he was offended, then relaxed into a smirk. “Year and a bit,” Charlie clarified, “Mentally, probably more like a decade.” Charlie had met Jo a few times – he didn’t really remember her from school – but to say they didn’t have much in common was an understatement. He didn’t need to ask Ken what she thought of him, Charlie was well aware he was not someone Jo was overly fussed about Ken spending any time with. Perhaps that was another reason they caught up so infrequently.

“Well, if you hope she does, so do I… As long as you can still pop out for a pint in between all the extra housework you’ll be doing – her being a Ministry bigwig and not having time to wash your knickers anymore.” He grinned. After a pause he adopted a more sincere expression. “Seriously though,” he turned and propped his back up against the bar, arms folding across his chest, “It’d be good for someone like her to get it.” They might not see eye-to-eye, but he had no doubt that Jo – and Ken – were the type of people the Ministry needed more of.

Charlie laughed as Ken espoused the virtues of sugar, “I’ll tell Kate that next time she smacks me hand away from the biscuits.” An exaggeration, but his girlfriend was certainly doing her best to have him eating better. He could tell it was working too, judging by the fact he no longer needed a belt for most of his jeans. Charlie had that strange metabolism where he could eat as much shitty food as he wanted and the weight never went on, but the minute he started eating healthily he filled out and looked less gangly. Charlie turned his head to peer over his shoulder at Ken’s near-empty glass. “Not a bad effort. I thought you’d only get halfway through before you needed to throw up.”

He was unable to hide the shade of disappointment that flashed across his features as Ken announced his desire to retire for the evening – Charlie wasn’t quite ready to go home. “Yeah, I’m good, mate.” He clapped Ken on the shoulder, steering him towards the exit. “You sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” He joked as he opened the door and encouraged Ken through it, out into the night. Hands in his pockets, Charlie nodded a goodbye towards the older man as he began walking in the opposite direction. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He shouted at him with a grin, and disappeared out of sight around the corner.