“He fucked up the undercarriage. I can’t do shit with it, and Matt doesn’t help, just standing there.”

Zachary had finally arrived and was sitting in front of the television, with Matthew and Brian, recounting his days work. Michelle was seated in between Brian’s legs, leaning back against the couch and deeply engrossed in a novel; Brian was absently running his fingers through her hair. Jimmy, who had finally found some other clothes and was seated on the floor, watched the three of them while drinking from one of Brian’s homemade whiskeys.

“Y’know, I think we know too many ‘Matts’,” Brian said.

Jimmy snorted, some of the whiskey he had been drinking trickling down his beard. “Well, makes it easier for me.”

“How do you figure that?”

“I can remember you guys’ names better.”

Matthew rolled his eyes.

Zachary scowled. “You wouldn’t fucking dare forget us, Jimmy. Anyway, can I finish my story?”

“Yeah, go on.” Jimmy waved a hand at him before downing half the contents of the bottle in one go.

“The Mayor is going to be really fucking pissed when he comes in tomorrow to check on progress,” Zacky said, sighing. “But, I don’t fucking know what to do. I can’t just say some magic words and fix it.” He raked his fingers through his hair, making the short spiky bits stick up at the front.

Matthew spoke up then. “I don’t think you need to worry, Zack. Elliott’s got more important things to worry about.”

“Like what?” Zacky tilted his head toward his friend. There was a moment’s silence after his question, though. Uncomfortable almost, where they just stared at each other. Then he said, “Oh...guess you can’t tell me that, right?”

Matthew leaned his head against the back of the sofa. He took a deep breath before answering. “Nah, it’s okay. Just...the election, y’know?”

“Fuck. That’s this year?” Zacky blinked, surprise flickering across his face.

“Yeah.” Matt said. “That’s why Val isn’t here yet.” Valary, his wife, was an actress who worked locally in and around New Huntington. She did mainly advertisements, particularly in the political and social circles. She had done some small independent telefilms, but she didn’t really want to break out into anything bigger. At least, as far as Matthew knew, she didn’t.

“She doing the big one?” Brian asked, while reaching for the bag of chips that was on the table in front of them. He took a couple, holding it out to Matt.

“Thanks,” Matthew said, grabbing a handful. “And, yeah. I don’t know what it’s going to be, though. Guess we’ll see when it airs.” He popped a chip in his mouth, crunching it while frowning in thought.

Brian passed the bag to Zacky, who dug out a handful and shoved it all into his mouth. Matthew paused in his thinking to raise his eyebrows at his friend.

“What?” Zachary asked, defensively.

Matt screwed up his face, before laughing. “You’re such a pig.”

Zacky retorted, “I am not.”

“Yeah you are...look at that.” Matt leaned over and slapped his stomach lightly, causing it to jiggle. “You’ve let go of yourself, Zack.”

After he made that statement, Michelle lifted her eyes from her book; Brian tilted his head; Jimmy sat forward. Zacky grimaced. They all knew, including Matt, how sensitive Zachary was about his weight. They usually didn’t comment on it, because he was honestly trying to do something about it, but if work got too stressful for him, he always put it on more.

There was another tense silence.

Then Zacky said, scornfully, “We can’t all be like you, Mr Hard Man Sanders. TaskerOne, mean motherfucker who upholds the law and intimidates little boys who can’t fucking stand up for them-”

“Don’t you dare say that to me, Baker,” Matthew growled, cutting him off. “It’s my fucking job.I don’t have a fucking choice.”

“Yeah? Well then quit ragging on me about my weight, ‘kay? It fucking pisses me off.”

There was a tense moment of quiet, the two men meeting each other’s gaze. Zacky’s eyes were narrowed. Matt’s were dark, hard. Brian, Jimmy and Michelle looked nervously between them. It wasn’t unusual for Matthew to get worked up over things; that was just the way he was. But normally Zachary didn’t let things get to him. And it was kind of surprising that he was reacting to Matt of all people, in this way.

After several moments, Matthew exhaled roughly before murmuring, “Sorry. That was uncalled for. I was being a dick.”

“That’s okay, I was too...” Zacky’s lips twitched in an apologetic smile. Matt reached over to clap a hand to his shoulder, squeezing it. The two men smiled at each other warmly then settled back against the sofa letting out twin sighs.

Michelle, who had put her book down on the floor, having taken note of Zacky’s unfinished accusation, asked, “Matt? What was he going on about ‘little boys who can’t stand up for themselves’?”

Matthew turned his head to look at her. Brian shifted his weight, looking just as interested in an answer, as his fiancée. Any word on what their friend did as TaskerOne, commander, of The Creed always intrigued them; even though some would suggest that the fascination was a little morbid.

Matt shook his head, expression grim. “There were some kids near Zacky’s shop. My boys found out they were concealing contraband. Y’know? Electric guitars and shit.” He paused, taking in the looks on his friends’ faces. They all held a mix of respect and disgust, which was the norm for them.

He went on, “I had to take a team down there...I think one of the kids shit his pants when he realised who I was.” He nodded to Zacky. “He just happened to be outside his shop and saw it all go down.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t pretty,” the mechanic muttered. “A lot of yelling and... Someone let a gun off...”

Matt added, gruffly, “No one got hurt, though.”

“Sheer fucking luck, I say,” Zacky pointed out.

“No. Sheer force of will.”

“Whose? Yours?”

Matthew just shook his head in answer; he didn’t like talking about it. His work. He just wanted to not have to worry about it, especially considering today was meant to be his day off.

Zacky rolled his eyes at him. “Like you said, I fucking saw what went down. And it was just...”

“What had to be done,” Matt finished, wearily. “I don’t like it any more than you do, Zack. But it’s my job.”

“It sucks what The Creed does.”

Jimmy’s voice interrupted the solemn quiet that had started to fall after Matt finished talking. They all looked at him. Surprisingly, there was none of the usual ‘I’m fucking with ya’ expression in his eyes. Even with the ridiculous beard, the older male was all seriousness.

“What, Jimmy?” Matt asked, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees.

“Well, no offence to you, Shads. But, they fucking...it’s like the fucking Nazis. And the fucking... Gestapo, right?”

“Maybe that’s not the right comparison to make,” Brian commented, as he cast a glance at Matthew whose brow was furrowed in deep lines.

Jimmy snorted, not seeming fazed by the darkening expression on his friend’s face. “I could give a shit, Brian. It’s just bullshit. I don’t see what’s wrong with wanting to form a band. What’s wrong with them anyway? When our grandparents were kids it was no big deal.”

There was quiet for a long while after his statement. The five of them got to thinking on the past. Bands had been outlawed in the Americas in the mid-Sixties. Several factors had played a part in this, but none as significant as a circle of bands that had been famous in the early Sixties. The band that had gained the most notoriety though, was best known for a single incident that had occurred in 1965.

The five men in the band had all been their age, in their mid to late twenties and they called themselves Rebel Assassin. Which considering the situation had seemed extremely appropriate. The band had been a precursor to the heavy metal scene and had spawned a cult following overseas, especially in Europe.

But the reason they had caused the government to come down hard on them and on bands in general was because they had questioned the status quo, had gone against the moral codes and practice of law and basically alienated and pissed off a lot of people in the process. The culmination of this was that the whole band had conspired to assassinate a very important political figure. Definitely grounds for the government to overreact and decide that all bands should be outlawed. There were other reasons leading up to it, but that had been the final straw.

Of course, other countries had noticed the outcry in the Americas and increasingly upped the ante as well, citing their own issues with musicians in rock bands. By the early noughties all the nations in the world, except a select few in Europe, had either completely outlawed bands, or at least severely restricted them. Following on from that flow, each country had had to find a way to deal with the rapidly increasing rate of underground movements. The Creed was the Americas response to a call from extreme left politicians to crush the uprise.

“You know the history,” Matt said, after the silence had stretched on for quite awhile. He had the bag of chips in hand now and was in the process of tipping the scraps into his mouth.

“So?” Jimmy pulled a face.

Matt glared at him. “So? You know the history.”

“I also know that The Creed is the only force of its kind in the whole wide world.”

Matt continued to glare at him.

“Oh, for flying fuck’s sake, lighten up, Matt. It’s not like I’m suggesting we start a band or something.” Jimmy grinned at his friend.

Brian groaned at that and shook his head. “God, Jimmy. That’d be going too far, even for you.”

Zacky added, “Yeah, ‘cause of course, Rev’s not that stupid.”

“Good to know,” Matthew said, tossing the now empty bag at their tall companion. Jimmy stared at him then pretended to burst into tears.

“Why are you so mean to me?”

Matt sighed, letting his head hang for a moment. “Fuck, Jimmy...”

“No. That’d piss Val off.”

Matthew had to laugh at that. “True.” But then he frowned. “What’s this sudden obsession with the way my wife feels about shit?”

“What?” Jimmy cocked his head to one side. “I’m not obsessing over your wife. That’s all in your head.”

“Yeah, but what you said before...outside...”

Stroking his beard, Jimmy said, “Oh, you mean about spending more time with her?”

“Yeah, that.”

Michelle interrupted, “He’s right, you know. You need to find more time for Val.”

“For all of us,” Zacky butted in.

“Yeah, we hardly ever see you. You’re always over there.” Brian waved a hand in the air.

Matt lifted his eyebrows, rubbing his hands against his thighs. He didn’t really have an answer for them. At least not a reasonable one. He could throw them the usual line about how The Creed took up all his time, but that was more by choice than because he had to.

Sure, he was TaskerOne, the top most position, except for the General. But, it was by choice that he lived on site at the barracks. It was by choice that he worked longer hours than everyone else. He didn’t have to be there all the time, but he chose to do so. And the crux of it was that he had no plausible excuse for it, he just did it.

“Val understands,” Matt murmured in a low tone.

“Doesn’t matter,” Michelle countered. “You still need to do something with her.”

“She’s busy too, y’know.”

“Not as busy as you seem to be.”

Matthew rubbed at the nape of his neck, scratching absently beneath the short hairs. Then he lowered his hand back to his leg and kept rubbing at it.

“All we’re saying,” Brian interjected, “all we’re saying is you need to find more time. We’re not telling you to quit.”

Matt knew his friends were right. That was what really burned him about their comments. Time was the biggest issue, and he really needed to fix that. And Hell, it wasn’t as if he was against it. He had honestly needed this day off. Perhaps he needed to look into some holiday leave.

Sighing, he nodded to Brian, “I know.” Matthew slapped his palms against his thighs. “You’re right. We need to do this more often.”

“Once a month, at least,” Zacky suggested.

“That’s doable,” Matt agreed.

“I know something else that’s doable,” Jimmy stated.

The others groaned, shooting mock glares his way. Michelle threw her book at him; he ducked out of the way the novel landing harmlessly behind him on the floor.

“What? I was just saying!” Jimmy whined.

“You don’t say...” Matthew drawled, laughing. He leaned back against the sofa, crossing his left leg over his right knee. Jimmy pouted at him.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Rev. Alright! I’ll take Val out on a date, if you’re so desperate.”

Jimmy grinned before chugging down the rest of his whiskey; then wiping the back of his hand over his mouth and his beard, he let out an almighty belch.

“Very good, Shads. I approve,” he nodded his head hard.

Matthew just sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back against the sofa again.

“And that was the best I’ve ever had,” Jimmy added, referring to his belching.

Brian snorted, standing up. “Ready for a second, then?”

“A second burp?” Zacky asked, lifting his eyebrows.

“Yeeeeeaaaaah!” Jimmy answered, a little too loudly.

“No. Drinks,” Brian chuckled.

“Oh yeeeeeeeeeeeeah!” Jimmy responded even louder.

Matt, without opening his eyes, said, “Get him a drink so he’ll shut up...he’s killing my head.”

While Jimmy protested against his friend’s comment, Brian made his way to the door. Michelle got up to join him. And Zacky flopped back on the sofa, closing his eyes as well. Before too long, aside from Jimmy’s continued mumbling, the twin sounds of soft snoring filled the room, a stillness coming to the two men sprawled on the couch.