STEPHANIE:

      I go to the sink to wash the glaze from my brushes, and lay them out on the small baking rack I brought out to dry them on. Then I double check on the mugs I've just finished, making sure that none of them are touching, which would mess up the glaze, and possibly make them stick together when they dry. Once I see that they have plenty of space, I turn off the lights, lock the door, and walk across the yard to the house.

      When I step into the kitchen, I grab my watch from the key rack by the door and put it back on, seeing that it's just past midnight. Macy called me out in the workshop about forty-five minutes ago to tell me that she and Lylah were going to bed, so instead of hanging out talking to them, I need to find something else to do until I actually get tired.

      This reminds me that I left the books I bought earlier today out of my car, since I forgot them when I came home after the mess at the studio. When we were at the Barnes and Noble this morning, they told me that a book I'd ordered on glazing techniques had come in, so I picked it up, along with an interesting-looking action-horror book. So maybe I'll curl up on the couch with a glass of iced tea and read a couple of chapters of that before I go to bed.

      I leave the kitchen and go into the living room, heading for the front door, and I'm almost there when I hear Macy's phone ringing in the charger. Figuring that whoever it is will leave a message, I let it ring through to her voicemail, but almost immediately it starts ringing again, so I pick it up. "Hello?"

      "Macy?" a man's voice inquires.

      "No, this is Stephanie. May I ask who's calling?"

      "Hey, Steph, it's Feldy. Could you get Macy on for me?"

      "Sorry, dude, they're already asleep," I tell him. "The doctor gave Lylah some sort of shot when he fixed up her arm, and it made her a bit dopey, so they sacked out almost an hour ago."

      "Well, damn!" he mutters. "I was hoping I could get her to go out to the house. Since Adam is out of town this week, I can't ask him."

      "Is there some kind of a problem? I mean, if it's an emergency, I guess I could wake her up."

      "That's the thing, I'm not sure. Ashley asked if he could hang out at the studio for awhile and work on some riffs or something, since he didn't feel like going home right then. I said okay, and told him to make sure he locked everything up when he left, but now I'm wondering if that was such a good idea. I mean, normally I'd be fine with it, but in his current state of mind, I'm a bit worried that he might have forgotten to set the alarm, or left the gate unlocked or something. And with all of the equipment in there, and that busted door..."

      "I totally understand," I respond, unplugging the phone and starting down the hall, before I have an idea. "Say, Feldy, I was planning to be up for awhile, so I can go check it out, if you're cool with that. I'll probably end up going along anyway, because I'm nowhere near insane enough to let Mace go driving around half-asleep."

      After a short pause, he says, "Y'know, that might actually be best, when you put it that way. Are you sure you don't mind?"

      "No, I don't mind at all. Just let me grab a pen and some paper, and you can walk me through what I need to do."

      He gives me the codes I'll need, and explains how to go about setting them. I repeat everything back to him, and when he's satisfied that I have it down, he ends the call. I put the phone back on the charger, then grab my purse and jacket and head out to my Highlander. I pull out of the carport and start off toward the studio, being careful to keep my eyes open for lunatic drivers, since it is Friday night, and they seem to multiply like bunnies on weekends.

      Fortunately, it seems that they've either already packed it in for the night, or they're terrorizing a different part of town, because I only have to pull over once before I get to the studio. But when I pull up to the gate, I can see that there are still several lights left on inside, so it looks like I actually will have something to do when I get inside. Then, after I get the gate open and drive through, I notice that Ashley's car is parked in front of the studio, so he's apparently still here somewhere.

      I pull up next to his car and get out, heading for the entrance, but before I get halfway there, he walks rather slowly around the corner, and starts using both hands to separate branches on one of the forsythia bushes growing by the walkway. I change direction and approach him, asking, "Ash, what are you doing?"

      He looks up, blinking at me somewhat owlishly for a couple of seconds, then a big smile spreads across his face and he says, "Hi, Steffy! Did you come to help me?"

      As soon as he speaks, I realize that he's completely hammered, so I just smile back and tell him, "Sure, I guess I can do that. What do you need help with?"

      "I need to go home now, but I can't find my phone. And my keys, too. My car don't start if I don't have 'em."

      Oh, not just no, but fuck no! There's not a chance in hell that I'm letting him even attempt to drive! I reach out and take hold of his arm, trying to guide him to the door. "Well, I doubt that they'd be in the bush, so why don't we go look inside?"

      "Say, thass a great idea!" he slurs. "I was inside before, so maybe the couch ate them, or somethin'."

      "That could be, so lets go find out, all right?"

      I manage to get him inside, and when we get into the lounge, my stomach does a barrel roll when I see three empty liquor bottles on one of the tables, which I know weren't there before I left this evening. "Did you have someone come hang out with you after we left?"

      "Nope, just me and I. Oh, and myself, too!"

      Oh, boy, this is not gonna be pretty. "Well, then obviously nobody else took your keys, so why don't you go make sure you didn't leave them in the bathroom, and I'll look around in here, okay?"

      He nods enthusiastically, almost falling over in the process. "Yeah, maybe thass it! I'll be right back!"

      He staggers toward the bathroom, and I glance around the lounge, but don't see anything obvious. Then I remember Feldy saying that he'd talked about working on some riffs, so I dash to the control room, and when I look through the window into the booth, both his phone and key ring are lying on a stool. Taking a quick look around to make sure he hasn't come back yet, I zip inside, grab them, and stick the keys in my purse. Then I walk back the way I came, and call out, "Hey, Ash! I found your phone!"

      He stumbles back into the lounge, promptly trips over a rug, and winds up draped over an ottoman. After a second, he rolls off, sitting on the floor with his back against it, reaching out his hand. I give him the phone, and he looks at it for a second, then asks, "Wha' 'bout my keys?"

      Hoping that he's too drunk to figure out that I'm lying, I say, "Sorry, I didn't see them anywhere. But I can give you a ride home if you want, and then maybe one of the guys can bring you back in the morning and help you find them. If you did drop them outside, they'll be easier to see in the daytime."

      He doesn't say anything for a minute, but then he looks up at me and says, "You think I'm inxtoc.., imbreni... You think I'm wasted, don't you?"

      "Yeah, I think you might be just a wee bit schnockered, Ash. But what do you think?"

      He pauses, and cocks his head to the side as if he's considering it, then says, "Yeah, maybe I'm a lil' drunk. Are you mad at me, Steffy?" He looks so apprehensive as he asks the question, almost like a little kid who thinks he might be in trouble, that I can't stop myself from reaching out and running a hand over his hair to try and comfort him.

      "No, sweetie, I'm not mad at you," I reply, and hold out my hand to him. "So why don't you let me help you up, and give you a ride home?"

      He takes my hand, and I manage to get him upright, then put an arm around him to make sure he doesn't fall over again, and lead him to the couch. "Okay, you sit there while I turn off the lights and get the alarm ready, and I'll take you home. Where do you live?"

      He looks at me like I'm speaking in a foreign language, and says, "I live at my house, silly Steffy."

      "Yes, I know that. But where is it?"

      He suddenly starts to look worried, and blurts out, "Oh, crap, did I lose that, too?"

      Oh, dear, this may be more of a challenge than I thought. "Y'know what, don't worry about it, Ash. I think I might know how to find it."

      I take out my phone and dial, and after a couple of rings, I hear, "Hello there, love."

      "Hi, Alice, I didn't wake you up, did I?"

      "No, not at all. We went to the theatre tonight, and actually just walked in the door a couple of minutes ago." Ashley starts singing under his breath, and she asks, "What is that? What's going on?"

      "I actually have kind of an odd question for you," I tell her. "And you know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. Would you happen to know Ashley's address, right off the top of your head?"

      "Yes, that is a bit of an odd question. Do you mind if I ask why you need to know?"

      "Because he's completely FUBAR, and can't remember."

      She's quiet for a couple of seconds, then says, "I think I should probably let you talk to Jinxx about this. Hold on just a sec."

      I hear a bit of mumbling, then Jinxx says, "Okay, Steph, what's going on? Alice said something about you being with Ash, and needing to know where he lives."

      I explain the situation, and he lets out a deep sigh, "Shit, I feel like a moron for not seeing that coming after what happened earlier. Is he really that bad?"

      "Dude, there's two empty Jack Daniels bottles sitting here, along with one of something called Coldcock. I'm pretty sure that if someone took a blood sample right now, it would legally qualify as a mixed drink."

      "Three bottles? Are you shitting me right now?" he blurts, sounding totally incredulous. "And he's still functional?"

      "Just barely. Right now he's sitting on the couch singing 'Hotel California' to himself. And he's already tripped over the rug once, so I'm hoping he'll stay put until I get everything settled here."

      "Okay, I can give you his address, and the alarm code, but it doesn't really help if he doesn't have his keys," Jinxx tells me.

      "But I do," I answer. "I found them in the recording booth. I'm just not stupid enough to let him try to drive in this condition."

      "Very sneaky. I like it!"

      He gives me the address and the code, and I write it down, then Jinxx asks, "Are you sure you don't want one of us to come get him? I mean, I can do it, or I could call CC, he's probably still up since Tiff is gone."

      "Nah, it's cool, dude. I'm already here, so I'll take him home and get him settled in. You might check in on him tomorrow, though. He'll probably be so hung over that he'll be lucky if he can get out of bed to dump some coffee into himself."

      He agrees, and I end the call, then go around and start turning off the lights, while Ash segues from The Eagles to "Sweet Emotion", by Aerosmith. Once I make sure everything is turned off and locked up, I go back to the couch and hold out my hand again. "Okay, hon, time to go home and get some rest. Give me your hand, and we'll go to my car."

      After a couple of failed grabs, and accusing me of moving it, he manages to catch my hand, and I help him pull himself off the couch. We slowly walk to the Highlander, and I get him strapped into the passenger seat, then get in and enter his address into my GPS before I pull out.

      He sort of leans against the doorframe for a bit, so I assume that he's passed out, but when we get to the freeway, and the GPS is giving me directions on where to turn, he raises his head and sort of peers over at me. "Oh, it's still you," he mumbles. "Where are we going? Are we gonna go to a party?"

      "No, Ash, no parties tonight. I'm taking you home, remember?"

      "Oh yeah, 'cuz I'm buzzed, so you're my disgusted driver," he agrees.  "Are you sure you're not mad at me?"

      I can't restrain a giggle, and I reply, "No, I'm still not mad. As long as you don't throw up in my new car, that is. Then I might get a little cranky."

      "Okay, I'll be good."

      We finally make it to the address Jinxx gave me, and I pull into the driveway and turn off the car. He seems to be dozing again, so I get out, fish the keys out of my bag, and decide to unlock the door and shut off the alarm before getting him out. I do this, and turn on the living room lights, then go back and work on waking him up enough to walk inside. He finally opens his eyes and looks toward the house, exclaiming, "Hey, I think I know this place!"

      "Well, I sure as heck hope so, or Jinxx is probably gonna have to come and post bail for both of us."

      He finally manages to stagger up the walk and into the house with me, and I lead him over to the couch. But before I can get him seated, he gives me sort of a panicked look and says, "Steffy, I don't feel so good."

      I glance around quickly, and fortunately I can see that there's a bathroom just a few feet away, opening off the hallway, so I sort of propel him in that direction. We get there just in time for him to drop to his knees in front of the toilet, and I hold his hair back with one hand while I rummage in my bag with the other. After a minute, I manage to find the scrunchie that I've kept in there from when my hair was longer, and gather his hair into it, since I'm pretty sure that there will be a repeat performance at some point.

      While he's getting rid of some of the booze, I manage to find a washcloth and run it under the faucet, and also put some water in the glass on the sink. Then when he finally seems to be finished, I help him up, run the cloth over his face, and hold the glass to his lips. He tries to turn his head, and says, "No, don't want it. It'll make me sick again."

      "You don't have to drink it if you don't want to," I tell him. "But why don't you at least swish some of it around and spit it into the toilet? If you don't get that taste out of your mouth, that might make you sick again, too." Apparently he's sobered up enough to comprehend this, because he does what I asked, then I flush the toilet and he lets me walk him back to the couch. 

      When we get there, I reach out and unbuckle his belt, causing him to look at me oddly and say, "Whatcha doin'? I think I'm too drunk for that."

      "No, hon, I'm just taking your belt off. This buckle is almost as big as your head, and if you try to lay down with it on, you're probably gonna hurt yourself."

      He stands quietly and lets me remove the belt, then I help him sit down. He stretches out on the couch, and I pull his boots off as he snuggles into the cushions. It seems like he's about to go to sleep again, but just before his eyes close he looks up at me and mumbles, "Thank you, Steffy. I like you, you're nice. Maybe we can be friends when I stop being drunk."

      "Yeah, I think maybe we can do that," I tell him, picking up a throw from the back of the couch and putting it over him. "But get some sleep now, so you can feel better. Good night, Ash."

      "G'night."

      I go to the kitchen, and manage to find a box of wastebasket liners, then grab the cans from the living room and the bathroom, put three liners in each, and place them next to the couch. I'm just about to turn off the light and go when it occurs to me that if he's sick again while he's asleep, and doesn't turn over in time, he could choke. Now that I have this stuck in my head, there's no way I'm leaving him here alone, so I run back out to the driveway just long enough to grab my book out of the backseat and lock the car, then go back inside.

      I take the liberty of getting a soda from the fridge and leave a message on Macy's phone explaining the situation before I make myself comfortable in a chair near the couch where he's sleeping. I open my book, and look at the clock before I start reading.

      One twenty-seven AM. This is going to be a long night.